MUSCLES QUIP

April 4, 2020

Naked, Upper Body, Fit, Lifestyle, Athlete, Person

 

I confess

My prowess is

To wait & to watch &

To wit, if fate slips me a quip

Take a sip & reassess then readdress

The matter no later than now

 

 

It might have been one long neon light

In the laundromat that set her off

When it flickered & popped

At us/ Everyone up late

Our eyes were hypnotized some

All bets were off

On what might happen

She was the first to go

To distract us from our books & hand-machines,

Pull us from our puzzles, also  our magazines

Her  saying all that nonsense  AA

Interrupted that late night scene

Her calling names out

All intense, her pleas   fowled by fire

We stared some  & stuck out someone’d stop her

Her call to fallen reveries

Her own  effin reveries

 

 

 

8

MOTIVE

November 17, 2019

She said I am deaf as a bat

At least I think that

So she yelled  like I’m a child

Folks in the grocery think it’s wild,

& turn their heads  to her, than me,

Or politely  towards the floor.

.

.

.HANDCUFFSjohn cameron- photo

D I S T A N C E S

July 10, 2019

1st chance I was free, this morning

I tried to get you on the horn

You’re too far, two or three days away,

At least a half dozen states away.

That’s  a ways away.

.

I would speak about weaknesses here.

I could talk about how bleak it is here.

Your laugh could alter things.

That’s a ways away.

.

.

Those who know me best say I’m worst.

In the day, I’m dark.

My points of view are too sharp.

My brain is broke. They’re checking now, here.

“It’ll all be OK”,  I was taught to say,  but I fear

.

That’s a ways away.

MY OWN HANDS

April 14, 2017

 

If I’d insist on playing the pacifist

(I’m maybe miscast)

I’d resist being all-too-willing

To killing time.

If I would want to resist the persistent praying

For my mercy, for all our mercy,

Inarticulate verses of mercy,

Maybe I’d want to take steps,

I’d want to take things into  my own hands,

Maybe I’d want to take on the task

Of yanking my mask off,

Of thinking of thanking

Myself more.

Tho’  I’d  heed  less

Jesus

R E D H O U S E

October 11, 2016

I  can  do  candor

My favorite secret

Reads & takes stock

On a Miami-lime rocker

Far, on a Vermont autumnal

Calendar’s glossy next month’s

Promissy  call.

 

1010161718

 

 

 

 

“There’s a red house over yonder/ That’s where my baby stays..” -Jimi Hendrix

M I S C A S T

October 1, 2016

 

 

If I’d insist on playing the pacifist

(I’m maybe miscast)

I’d resist being all-too-willing

to killing time.

 

If I would want to resist the persistent praying

For my mercy, for all our mercy,

Inarticulate verses of mercy,

Maybe I’d want to take steps,

I’d want to take things into my own hands,

Maybe I’d want to take on the task

Of yanking my mask off,

Of thinking of thanking

myself more.

Tho’  I’d  heed  less

Jesus

.

.

.

.

.

.

(from 2009)

 

I’m no man who takes stock

Or should be shocked by

Omens.

But I bet it was  one day

Or less,  I honestly met

Two unlucky others having,

Both, unlikely christian names..

Both  “Heaven”.

I take it I’m not too long

On this old

Achy world?

Just because I joked

Last night  at friends

Arthritis in my hands

Might makes it easier

It takes not so slow

To let go of the rail?

 

 

 

AFTER SHE LEFT (Excerpt 1)

August 23, 2016

It’s nonsense you live on

As a sensitive one

False walls should fall

As you give pause to yr farce

I doubt insulation bubbles

Pop so fun  when you can’t stop so

And  open  up

Wounds  et al.

 

 

 

of all the lies

in the air

that this liar

is truely unaware of

(is  ’truely’  the right word?)

of all the lies

casual and caressing there

the air currents  n

night-blooming jasmine

(is  ’current’  the correct word?)

the stolen ones, emboldened lies

(I’ve told em. All alchemy.)

are all born, arabesque,

of an open pen pumping onto paper,

.

from nothing.