TO SEE GETHSEMANE

Blackened breezes rustle
Sacred/ olive trees, skies muscled thick.
I took a sight that set me more lost
More sour than seasick.
I see him, knees bloodied,
Face drawn/ down
to earth.
I was being/ once/
Just a man also.
I spied/ by my back down
To my murk/
I cried/ by my own shadow,
But did not cry out,
To interrupt all that too intimate.

.

.

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When I was a young/ more willful man,
I fasted/ from dawn friday
Until the last of easter/ Today
I’m past that/ I take the families
To the best italian place,
For sacrificial lamb & blood red wine
& all before that, maybe grace.

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DA VINCI’S CLUE

 

To adjoin Your Maundy Thursday observances.
“But, behold, the hand of him that betrayeth me
is with me on the table”
Can you find Da Vinci’s clue to just who?

 

HALF-HALE & HARDY, yet

“The thick leaves in my murmur/ Are rustling like a dream/ And all their myriad voices/ Instinct with spirit seem”        Emily Bronte, from “The Night Wind”

 

 

 

 

 

I’m half-Hale & a Hardy old man.

Yet I have one world  of failings,

Yet  universal   ‘elan.     

.

The endgame  is a sight closer

I can only see it  now

Like the woods across the street, Close,

Like one worn path for the woods.

T R E E

 

 

 

T R E E

 

There’s a tree in this stretch of barren hell

It has Beauty  and surely shade

I’ll sit and see how far I’ve come

I’ll look off to  somewhere I’ll die

 

 

 

Noir Morning

Change & keys upon a bureau corner

Can’t be far from boots and his trousers

Low volume all night tv tells murder stories

Some are unsolved like this week I’ve been havin’

I could get my car back if the garage is open

My fuckin’ phone got lost in a downtown without pity

I’ll maybe get another once I am way  down the road

Some contacts, all the music won’t be easily replaced

I can chalk it up to “Oh Well”.  Sunday’s almost come

THE WAITING

 

 

 

 

 

 

I couldn’t keep my shirt on
I actually had a hand at the door
I wouldn’t wait for the EKG guy
.
The express lines were full up at the IGA.
So was the cart in front of me, the one in my way.
My body required liquids I needed to buy.
& me, I wouldn’t wait for the EKG guy
.
My car needed work (I see I did too, OK?)
Ever still again, Time stalled & would stay.
Never, “Our time is up for today”
I’d bet Time’s a fleeting debt, not a gift.
I about bolted but my Ford’s on the lift.

.You’d think a man with wait issues
Would shy away some
From a long-distance love, he could only see some.
How he’d wait & wait for her laugh on the phone
How he’d wait & wait for her letters to come
How he’d wait & wait for liaisons alone
How he’d wait & wait for a time all their own.
.
.
.
.Artwork “The Waiting” kindly loaned by Christian
http://chriseastmids.deviantart.com/

 

 

 

 

CAROLINE VALENTINE’S LAUGHTER

Here, lover’s laughter remains a remnant.

She’s  there  in  Vermont.

But like laughter  in the next room.

She’s near enough for sharing joy

Nearly enough to emit the warmths of

Chimes..and vibes..and glockenspiels..

The mix makes songs  of her laughter.

And not just in the next room,

Not just this focused moment,

But most heatedly here, this resounding chamber

Of this house and this heart.

 

 

A GOOD WORD PLEASE

All oncoming traffic headlit my shadows, just behind this parapet

No, that’s not the word, really

Not that word, a good word though

Like “peripatetic”   for me

You,  “peridot”.

.

Oncoming traffic’s shadows brush me rough

I’m tucked in a kinda cove  in some lemon grove

I’m sitting it out  for a breakout

Once the sun’s out

I’ll turn & make out for greener pastures

I’ll make up for  what they seen as grave errors.

 

CAROLINE VALENTINE’S EYES

lovers,  when asked about lovers

all I can muster, “Is it likely

I even have  likers?”

.

But I’ve known  you  like  me,

&  I’m too fond of you.

I’m too fond of yr. brilliant squinty eyes;

It’s  faceted blue apatites,

Aquamarine, no, blue topaz,

Wild emeralds,  a hell of a violet spinel,

No, tear sapphires, for real,

No.   Aquamarine.

,

I’m urged to end virtually all this spelunking business

What?  My time’s up? (& dearly departed?)

I just did “eyes”,     I just got started.

 

 

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QUILTLESS WONDER

Will a quilt that drapes,

Dramatically,  one  wicker

Adirondack  chair,

Drape  me?

.

.

Will a qualified straight-shooter, finally,

Dramatically, shooting his or her mouth off,

Try  to  be  fair,

Capturing   me?