Cancer

 

decade_45pierreholtzreutersyeehee-com_2010_12_16_best-pictures-of-the-decade-the-noughties_.jpg

I’ve lost the use of my heart,
But I’m still alive,

When you cannot find the people you walked through life with,
You are still alive.

I hear voices and want to talk to everyone,

The hustler and the prostitute together in fur coats,
The glowing car salesman,
The mechanic,

Audible to me all,

The rat at the corner,
Selling drugs,

I’m crying everyone’s tears.

 

Photo♦Pierre Holtz for ReutersBest Pictures of the Decade

 

 

 

-short evocative poetry-

Published in: on February 15, 2017 at 09:41  Comments (4)  
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Dying is the first race

20170110_1541431

Never mind Lawyers,
Children with no mouths,

Never mind Inspiration,
Write Now.

 

 

Photo – ♦Personal♦

-short evocative poetry-

Published in: on January 29, 2017 at 18:15  Leave a Comment  
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Pain relief

800px-semana_santa_antigua_guatemala

Builders will continue to build, and
White folk dumpster dive, 

In the winter anyway,

In red,
And blue overalls, scavenge –

Scavenger,
Some for profit, others fun, and I

Cannot be a predator, I
Cannot carry luggage, I

Am dying, and

Perhaps giving things away, a
book or something will relive the pain, lord

Knows I just need some pain relief and, I
Just cannot afford to hoard right now, nor pilgrimage, how

I wish I had done this earlier like,
Forgiven my lover, myself –

Wait,
I’ll do it in dungarees, I am dying and I

Will giv away yellow popsicles instead.
 

photoHoly Week, Guatemala♦

-short evocative poetry-

 

 

Published in: on December 31, 2016 at 20:01  Leave a Comment  
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Tea-time in the sun with friends

20161213_0728281

Imagine all those who have to swallow pills;
One a day,

Everyday for every illness,
-and sometimes just

For age, they don’t

Taste good in,
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday packets-

Bitter pharmaceuticals to make you better,

Those that do it with smiles,
Yellow,

And creaking bones and gorgeous flannel;

Respect their furrowed brows and dimpled cheeks, their
Trick of light, their

Twilight years,
Respect your elders now.

Photo – Shitsugane

-short evocative poetry-

Published in: on December 13, 2016 at 11:50  Leave a Comment  
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Midnight Gardener

jacob-y-angel-pelean

I hear God in cushion prints,
Leopard pants,

Ancestors,
We Forget;

What if it took place at midnight, would you

Stack hay and win,
Chicago with the broad shoulders,

Hunt mosquitos,
Midnight lover, the

Ebullient wrestler in a,
Pink Venetian mask,

Would you,
Be a brute,

Pretending the contender was not God,
Brisk breeze,

Be the one who,
Proof read the script,

Then promptly forgot,

Alzheimer,
And Jung?

Anger never works.

Photo – Jacob and Esau

-short evocative poetry-

Published in: on November 7, 2016 at 02:15  Leave a Comment  
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Death in a foreign land

Betty

 

Charge woman,
Through life, take it all away
Charge, man,

Pretty poet, write it down,
When was the last time you looked at a lover,
In the sand,

Swam with sting rays,
Over African boys asleep with pink men,

Charge woman, stagger drunk,
Through the pavements,
Outside home,
Under the lights by the stoop,

Bring it home, the suitcase in the corner full of,
Yellow memories,

And language.

 

 

Published in: on March 22, 2016 at 07:34  Leave a Comment  
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Loosing our minds

 

Righteousness, Relationship, Time, Alzheimers

I am right.

You may say that I am not, but
I have,

Demanded love and,

You,
Are wrong.

Black and blue and red hummingbird, I
Know what I am saying, you

Left the kids again,
And we argue,

Tall as bamboo we,
Kill each other,

Taking long hours to,
Identify precisely who left the faucet running,

Forgetting the long, yellow grass of home –
I am right,

You never listen, and that’s the problem
Left,

It says so on the map.

Fold your wings.
Concede.

Allow the dull,
Green mother

Her time at the till

 

Picture       ♦Space Shuttle Challenger Crew♦

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We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and “slipped the surly bonds of earth” to “touch the face of God.” – Space shuttle challenger-

 

Published in: on January 21, 2016 at 09:02  Leave a Comment  
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Street-walker

God and Folly

It is raining outside.

I am reminded that,
Rain has rhythm.

Rhythm has heart-beat,
A beat, a

Rat-a-tat-tat,

Every city has its gangsters, its’
Street corners, its

Unbelievers, every

Heart has its beat, and
Every beating heart, its’

God,

Where folly is a pink bear,
An African American,

A bionic car round the bend,
Sunlight at last,

Caught,
In the hair,
Of the joggers,

In the difference it makes to,

Walk with a friend,
For a mile or a minute,

Healing,
Not everywhere is fear.

♦photo♦ Laurieanichols Scenes from New York in January

-short evocative poetry-

 

 

Published in: on January 5, 2016 at 05:48  Leave a Comment  
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Hostage

image

Promises are made to be broken,
Thwarted,

Made again,
Whilst Jasmine pours,

Perfume;

Where God,
Is an impression, a

Figment,
Asking why, if

Birds and fish and,
Creatures of all kinds,

Flourish,

We terrorize each other,
Impossible,

Even at crimson sunsets, to
Be the first to apologise, and

Stop polluting the Earth?

Picture – ♦Reuters/Daily Mail

-short evocative poetry-

 

 

After

Cancer, palliative

2004_150 002

We spend our days,
Getting ready for tomorrow,

Hoping the past will not catch us,
The bad eating, the saccharin juices, when

Now is the only moment, to

Love, to
Speak,

Re-pack your life, forgive –
Go,

On an adventure or,
Simply state your piece,

It will be alright.

We may yet,
Save the climate.

♦photo♦ – High Museum Art of Atlanta

 

-short evocative poetry-

For my friends battling Cancer.

Published in: on December 14, 2015 at 23:30  Leave a Comment  
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Choose

Choose, environment

Bombing everything,
You prevaricate,

Humans in an upside-down chandelier,
Prevaricating,

Pompous,
Unable,

Hot air rising will cool.

Cold air,
Kelvin

Is frozen solid so,

Focus.
Save a butterfly.

Choose.

♦Photo♦ThingLink

short, evocative, poetry

Published in: on December 10, 2015 at 04:48  Leave a Comment  
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Office Lover

 xPWRd3p

Dreaming of;

Colorful balloons on an African plain,
Hot air rising, with

Rich people making eye contact,
Heaving brandy glasses at the bar by the salt-lick lake,

Making new friends with,
Levitating boobs or

Buoyant balls,
Out on the reef, whilst;

Putting out lurid spread-sheets,
At the office photocopier,

With Sam,
And his dark blue eyes,

Hoping buoyant balls will crack it too,
That male or female,

Cleavage wins,

That bobbing balls will sway him from the levitating boobs of Caroline in the corner,

Will bring Sam round,
With his dark blue eyes,

To dreaming of African sunsets with me.

 

 

 

-evocative short poetry-

Published in: on November 24, 2015 at 05:37  Leave a Comment  
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