no. 53

love poem number 15

there cocooned lies a piece of me

long separated yet

attached by fine threads

almost invisible

there swaddled lies a piece of you

ruddy chick cheeks

smooth as brushed velvet

there enveloped lies the result

when pieces of me met pieces of you

long feathered eyes

unfathomable spirit

we catch our breath

gazing upon our beautiful creation

(written 28 march 2018)

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mundane musing the twenty-fifth

seeds

the seeds went into the tray just the other day

sprinkled on top of crumb cake earth so rich and dark

it was difficult to tamp down the urge to bring

some to mouth

would it nourish this body

was the thought that came to mind

and the mind, so full of competing thoughts

of revulsion and compulsion

finally conjured up most unpleasant imagery

to ward off that repulsive hunger

but the seeds were there, ready to heed the

imperative to grow

and now they’re sprouting

soon they will send green shoots up to match

the tiny feeding rootlets below

uniform in their stretch to the light

and dark networks

if these toes were planted

would they grow roots

would arms mimic grass and reach for the sun?

(written 29 march 2018)

no. 51

of light in the dark, no. 3

light, bathe me

sun-drop, moon breath, aurora glow

submerge me in a heady liquor of

fast-moving electrons

unseen manifestations of dark matter

ultra-violet violence of particles

scour until the point of purification

until i glow like the stars

in the black sea of the universe

(written 26 march, 2018)

no. 50

age

how old do you think this face is

unlined as it is

can you tell by the eyes?

myopic or full of clouds

do you have to touch it to know

the feel of the skin

what it has weathered

or is it the teeth

decades or scores of dutiful attention

have worn enamel thin so that clean

is no longer white

or maybe it’s the heart that betrays the years

for the creature underneath

(and yes, it is a creature of its own making

of unknown and unfathomable brightness)

feels as if it has been in this experience

for eons or moments

days pass like lightening strikes and

seconds like dripping molasses

and when its face turns toward the sun

it still revels in those moments

so long ago

when its creature heart was

young

(written 24 march 2018)

no. 49

every evening

every evening i reread every piece of poetry ever written

obsessively

every evening i regurgitate the feeling of each word, each phrase

some poems are redirected, others already perfected

but still i feel compelled

every evening, i re-insinuate myself into every nuance,

wondering if i will respond in the same way every time.

(written 14 november 2017)

mundane musing the twenty-fourth

spoon

there is that one special spoon

the one with the flowers etched into its stem

just the perfect shape and size

for a small demanding hand

it’s the only one she wants

even though you know and she knows

that six years old is old enough to take

any. old. spoon.

but really, she just wants that one

and so you find it each time

(it always misses the dishwasher

so it lies perpetually in the sink)

and wash it, the hot and soapy water rinsing

away her imminent disappointment

she puts it in her pudding

she bites the tip with her teeth

daring you with an impish smile

and so you smile back

because you know that

someday, all you’ll be left with

is the spoon

you’ll dip it in your pudding

and remember.

(written 24 march 2018)