Noir Morning

April 13, 2019

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

March 4, 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

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/

 

 

 

 

ImageImageImageImage

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

February 7, 2019

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

February 2, 2019

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.

 

 

.

 

 

QUILTLESS WONDER

January 31, 2019

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?

“THEORETICALLY”

January 30, 2019

“This  ole  sot

Theoretically  is   empty,”  he went,

“Momentarily  anyways.”

Faces death, & all that rot,

Not to say, not so long before  he’s meant.

He sifts scenery…all Regret.

But m’Lord of Mercy. .Not that scent!

 

“More of whatcha  got,”

Forwarding his fine glass there,

“Don’t stop  just yet.”

 

 

 

20190130_161954_Film4.jpg

 

 

 

 

STILL, THERE WAS THAT LIGHT

January 24, 2019

She won’t remember when  without a word we wandered
Dark collegetown neighborhoods.
Where were the dogs & cops? I wondered.
We were thrilled for the night still.
Still, there were all the satellites.
And very still, there was that light
In a candlelit picture window.
It gave a silhouette, a shadow  readying a bed.
Buffing up a sheet, she showed us,
(My sister Janny and me),
Her heart-stopping Beauty;
A silent ballet shadow show that
We acknowledged.
Her walk-stopping ethereal naked lines.
Then we  continued on, still wordless.
Then got stiller yet.

BIT OF A RECLUSE

January 23, 2019

It could be I got bit
Three times by a recluse spider.
Here in the sub-tropics
Where recluse spiders are a risk
But I’m a bit of a recluse, too.
I like the dark,
My own time, & whiskey.
Oh, the friends and kin they call me;
They go “Cool Guy!”,
Man, they might  “Night Falls”  me.
When  there’s  three red moons on my arm,

They all do enthrall me,
Almost with their own flow chart.
It’s dangerous art,
Three red, full moons on my arm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WORST BEDTIME STORY EVER

January 21, 2019

 

 

If   he’s  truly  gone

He fell from a tree

Night-vision just finally darkened black

That might happen, if  it’s  true,

When he would move forward to a new branch

.

I found an opossum  on my lawn

& if he’s truly gone

His  odd  defense

Odd  Lazarus  gifts

Of cessation, resurrection.

Odd mask of death  did drop?

We’d ask if his time was up.

 

Give  him  a  kick

“Wake  up”