Amateur Pomes

071109

ICY HOT

Pricey. Dicey.
Spicy-torrid.

Love affairs
are fairly horrid.


071108

AMATEUR
PRODUCTION

Life is a poem,
a vision, a song:
we make it up
as we go along.


071107

THAT SOMETHING

It flutters skyward,
plummets into bog,
dominates like Dallas,
scintillates like Oz.


071106

LOVE TRIANGLE

Every blessing
is a trinity:
motive, means,
and opportunity.


071105

ACQUIRED TASTE

Cream of avocado,
snowpea pea-pod crunch,
tang of lemon, olive oil,
radishes (a bunch)
–such as these have lately
worked their way into my lunch.

While I won’t enthuse by ballad,
I’m learning to enjoy a salad.


071104

RESERVED

It seems to me I’ve lived my life
like a candle on a shelf:
never knowing what to cling to,
I wrapped up in myself.


071103

NOW TWO

Once
one and one,
we joined in hope:
we somehow made a two.

Now
day by day,
our hopes come true:
life comes alive with you.


071102

OUTFOXED

He studies
management gurus,
he claims.

He claims to have
an open-door policy,
but no one can find
his office.



071101

COUNTING COUP

Only ten trick-or-treaters came this year,
and half of them at once.

Not.

Two boys held out pillowcases,
queen-sized if not king.

“How many of you, altogether?”
I asked, peering beyond them into the dark.

Still into candy, not into girls, they sneered.
“They’re not with US!”

Work and Play Pomes

071031

BEAR, LAMB, RHINO

For Halloween,
our mascots, the armadillos,
wore animal-head masks.

They were promptly given
coworker-inspired names:
Eddie-Bear, Dee-Capitated,
Brad-the-Impaler.


071030

CONTEST

You don’t have to win
to win.


071029

AMERICAN CREAM

Cream and sugar,
cakes and pies,
malts and liquors,
burgers and fries.

We guzzle and gobble our way to success;
nothing does for us but best.

It’s “best of the best” we’re wooing.
Nothing does for us but cream—
but cream is our undoing.

Cream and sugar,
burgers and fries
make us ill
and supersized.

Time has come for us to revise—
or let demise—
the “great” American Dream.


071028

UNDER STUDY

Happiness
surely
comes at will.

Happiness
is purely skill.


071027

DAILY GROUND

some days
I hate my work

it turns me
slow
inept
confused and stupid
frustrated
frazzled
and demoralized

more than I
already am

and caffeine
is no remedy


071026

HI WAY

old white lady
old black man

(that says so little
of who we are)

catch ourselves
smiling, waving

from back of truck
from front of car


071025

THE TRUTH OF IT

Balanced diet plans
are so unrealistic!

Eat that many servings
of fruits and vegetables
and you’d have little room
for anything else.


071024

ARID TIMES

Everything beloved
must be abandoned
now and then,
left fallow and forgotten
to be romanced once again.


071023

THE GAME

fortune, fame,
felicity,
famines, fears
and cancers

poems are impossible
when you know
the answers


071022

VOICE BOX

Don’t HAVE a voice!
Don’t WANT a voice!

I choose to voice
a voice for CHOICE!

[ASIDE: Poets are advised to be consistent, to project a certain persona, if they want to be published.]


071019

FALL IN LOVE
for Becky and Matt

All is fall, from low to high;
fall is all around us.

Copper leaves—brittle, dry,
still-warm breezes, cobalt sky,
glories that astound us.

All is fall, above, below;
fall is all around us.

Here we stand, groom and bride,
both our families at our side;
fall and love surround us.


071010

RESERVING JUDGMENT

I don’t know for sure
what life is all about.

So, thankfully,
I don’t know for sure
that I’m failing
miserably at it.


071009

FAVE RAVE

a daily lunch
that’s hard to beat—
peanut butter
and apple on wheat

Diet Pome

070920

ABC’S OF DIETING

Good advice, or so I’m told:
should Apple not tempt
or Banana appeal;
if Cucumber leaves you cold;
you really aren’t hungry.

Pomes of Death

070823

DEATH SENTENCE

Die.


[ASIDE: First, I heard that "Go." is the shortest sentence in the English language, though I suppose "Be." or "Do." would also work. Then I heard an ad for a "Death Sentence" movie, and something just clicked.]


070822

ANOTHER

It wasn't thin
or fat,
or too much this
or that.

It was a cat.
And now it's flat.

070814

Happy Birthday,
MARIE!!

Roses are red in summer.
Violets are blue in spring.
The world is full of flowers.
None match the joy you bring.

Weekend Pomes

070812

SADDLE UP, DARLIN’

Each August twelfth, we mistakenly
celebrate our wedding anniversary.

Somehow, over the years, we got confused:
the twelfth actually commemorates
the date we got our license.
We enlisted Sherman, our auto mechanic,
to help fulfill the remaining legalities.

“Just the basics,” we told him.
“We want a streamlined ceremony.
Here are our vows. No elaboration, please.
No sermon, Sherman!”

Did we really expect restraint;
from a mechanic who pined to be a minister,
from a born-again Christian eager to
convert a pair of perceived pagans?

He was he, we were we;
the day evolved perfectly, sermon and all.

Friends celebrated with us
at our local hangout, the Runway Café.
Together with staff and breakfast patrons,
they offered Asti Spumante toasts to the
upcoming phase of our partnership.

“What I hope to offer you,” Ethan said later,
“is that when our life together ends,
you will look back on everything and say,
“It was a good ride.”


070811

SUCH A DAY!

Starbucks for a start.

Then scouting movies
and Home Depot bargains.

Terrell Café breakfast specials.

Ham’s Orchard fresh fruit.

Work with one friend
and a Napoli’s lunch.

Panda House dinner
with other friends,
followed by the movie
scouted earlier.

Sandwiched in-between,
a newly-bought camera
and a major job offer.


070810

HIGH ALERT

Whiskers a-quiver,
the cats (and I)
smell it coming—
magical weekend!

070810

REBIRTH PROCESS

His past-middle-age job transition
landed him in a country home beside a lake,
a good choice for a fisherman, except
he also landed in the heart-bypass boat.

Now he's climbing out of it.

It was a wet summer, and months elapsed
between his view of the causeway
bisecting an ultra-low lake level
and the current view where water
laps the edges of the asphalt.

Slap-slap-slap go the waves.

'Lone Pome

070808

OFFA KILTER

all I want
’s t' be alone—
‘way from ever
thang n' body

want m' life
t' be m' own —
n' ever day be
like it oughty


[ASIDE: Today I watched for white birds my whole commute to Dallas. I drove fully west, then U-turned over the interstate to take the short eastward return toward my office building. There, as I faced the dawn, a pair of egrets swooped out of the woods and passed low across the road. Two! All the variations seem right to me lately: alone, paired, and in community.]

One for the Birds

070808

BIRD CALL

White bird, sole bird—
each day one bird
punctuates my sky.

Inward, now stirred,
my own soul-bird
resonates their cry.

Soon, my soul, fly—
fly wide, fly high,
solitary bird.


[ASIDE: On my commute these last few days, a gull, another gull, a pigeon or dove, and today an egret appeared, gliding slowly alone, white, against blue sky. While thinking about this and wondering whether such sole flights were unusual, somehow I got the name Ziva into my head. At about the same moment, a semi truck went by. It bore the company name Z-Bird.]

Makin' an Shakin'

070807

POMEMAKING

What's the point
of pome-du-jour?
What does it ever
save or cure?

For myself,
there's this allure—
waking up, daily
fresh and pure.


070806

HOT HOT DATE

he's a-movin'
an' he's a-shakenin'

sez your world's
gonna be a-quakenin'

sez git ready
sez git set

sez you're in
for a lewd awakenin'


070804

POINTING THE WAY

Where we’re headed is up aways.
Keep straight ahead, and ignore the turnoffs—
this first one goes to the water plant;
that next one goes nowhere,
and takes no time getting there, either.


070803

MONDAY MOANING

Friday night, I just collapse.
Saturday, I mend.
Sunday, I catch up on chores
and (just as Sunday ends)
get revved up and ready
to launch a fun weekend.

Well, a Pome

070801

WELLNESS

Well, today,
I prepared emails
to a buncha national labs,
had a pb peach sandwich,
heard a spoofy russian
volga boatman birthday song,
made a wishlist
and got everything on it
plus,
drove home like a sub-
mariner in a Texas downpour,
kissed and fed my darlin',
curled up with a cat
tv'ed from the bed,
and just generally had,
well, a nice day.

Sweet and Sour Pomes

070731

SWEET AND SOUR

Twice-cream Sunday.
A-la-mode Monday.
Next, this rues-day,
blues-day, Tuesday.


070730

JUST DESSERTS

With disaster
I constantly flirt:
"Just-this-once"
can't possibly hurt!


070729

WHEE! BE!

There you are.
Here I am.
Yabba-Dabba,
We! ShaZAMM!

Food for Thought Pomes

070728

CARE OF MIND

Pestilence, famine,
people unfair—
it doesn't matter,
if you don’t care.

Poverty, aging,
people unkind—
it doesn't matter,
if you don’t mind.

No one’s advising,
"Go deaf and blind."
One thing does matter—
care of your mind.

[ASIDE: Took another stab at yesterday’s theme.]


WHAT’S FOR LUNCH?

Pasta tonight, so don’t do that.
Nothing that will make me fat.
Guess we’re out of bread and cheese.
Not enthused for beans or peas.
Something of the breakfast ilk?
Raisin bran with nuts and milk!

[ASIDE: In fact, we had pita-bread pizza. Don’t believe everything you read in a pome!]

Pome with Attitude

070727

HAD ENOUGH?

Life isn't fair;
life can be crappy.
If you don't care,
life can be happy.


[ASIDE: There was, I think, an autobiographical account involving WWII and Eisenhower that the author titled "Past Caring." I loved the nuances of those words together. Anyway, in this pome I'm reiterating that "Happiness is the Way." The fact is, I keep turning wayward, at least in how I feel about events. But I cling to the hope that, by noticing, I can reorient more quickly. ]

Pome of Revelation

070726

LOOK OF REVELATION

How do angels appear
in our lives?
With horns, tails, pitchforks;
as husbands and wives.

Loose Pomes

070725

LOOSE FROM THE NOOSE

Okay, you had your day with me.
You almost had your way with me.
Somehow, you set me up: that's all I know.
Somehow, you set me off. Now off I go.


070724

RULES OF
DISENGAGEMENT

It’s cruelty you abhor?
Then quit creating more.

[ASIDE: Advice for myself and for anyone else it might fit.]


070723

CASTING CALL

Why am I the mess-up mop;
why the one to force a stop?
How come she can play good cop?
Perhaps because she is good cop!

What Not Pomes

070722

WHAT NOT TO DO

I’m makin’ a list,
checkin’ it twice—
but not doin’ nuthin.
This is my vice.


070721

YOU-SURPER!

HEY, Old Soul—
reel in your role!
Your need for control
is OUT of control.

[ASIDE: I may have encountered someone even more controlling than myself. Else, it's just me.]

NOT OK Pomes

070720

NOT OK CORRAL

Dust has not settled.
As yet, I do not see—
have I been broken
or have I broken free?


070719

070718

COMPETENCY HEARING

How to keep work
safe from the worker
and vice versa;
that is the question.

Citing OSHA
as a relevant authority:

...regarding workplace
responsibilities,
a designated person
can never be considered
a competent one
if not given authority
to do the job.


070717

LET THE GAMES… END!

In the arena,
all the while that you are feeling violated,
mistrusted,intruded-upon,discounted,
put-down,frustrated,fool-icized,robbed,
goaded,pilloried,crushed,dismissed,
discounted,slighted,ignored,maligned,
incensed, and just plain hurt,

you suspect
your perpetrator is identically suffering
from perpetrations of your own;
that you pair in some horrid gestalt
of image, mirror, and reflection, and that
resolution, if not victory, depends on
more reflection and less of everything else,
except light.


070716

CONTROL

The more we’re right,
the freakier it gets—
for both of us.

The more we fight,
the funnier it gets—
for one of us.

[ASIDE: first line originally was: When we're uptight,]

Tasty Pomes

070715

TICKLED TASTE-BUDS

Fizziest, creamiest
joy of the south?

Root beer float--
bubble-bath
joy of the mouth!


070714

TEXAS TREATS

Huevos rancheros.
Frijoles and rice.
On a hot day,
just water and ice.

To PrincessOctober

Thanks for your comment and request to use a poem.

I am inclined to answer yes. Unfortunately, I'm unable to email you back. Apparently I don't have the software to do that.

Let me look into this; I don't fully understand blogging yet.


Jo

Circulating Pomes

070713

CIRCULATORY SYSTEM

Four shallow spaghetti bowls.
One clear pyrex pie plate.
One dash of water each;
one drop of detergent each.

Life traps us into killing.
With ghoulish, macabre hope,
I make my nightly rounds,
laying a deathtrap pool
beneath each corresponding
pool of carpeted lamplight,
expecting—come day—
a harvest of tiny corpses:
russet, fetus-form fleas;
clotted spray of my babies’ blood,
and my own.


070712

THE WAY OF WHEE!

fingerless, toeless, clueless—
but dancing to moonlight


070711

STILL KIDS

Let’s butt heads.
Let’s battle!

But if you win,
I’ll tattle.


070710

BRACING

Weather lady
predicts “gutsy winds.”


070709

SELF RESTRAINT

What use is a word
that’s never heard?

What use is a life
that’s kept interred?


070708

LANDSCAPE DESIGN

Grass sends runners
toward the bare spot.
Grass sends runners
toward the flowers.
But—the same grass.

One kind of mind
grows flowers.
One kind of mind
grows weeds.
But—the same mind?


070707

NEED UH HIT

We are shut off.
We are shut out.
We won’t shut up.

“Uninspired,” we’re accused.
We are not, uh, mused.


070706

AFTER WORK

Friday. Home.
Park the car.
Check the mail.
(Odd. There isn’t any.)

At the entry.
Door’s ajar.
Inside—mail!
Up go my antennae.

Back-door check.
There you are,
with a tale
well worth every penny:

“Friday. Home.
Parked the car.
Checked the mail.
Bills, but not too many.

Hurried back
a day ahead.
Wanted home,
you, cats, our own bed.”


070705

GUILTY PARTY

Easy credit. eBay.
“Super-size those fries?”
Mega-entertainment.

Luxury tells lies.

Affluence, that robber,
steals our health, wealth, time;
lending opportunity,
motivating crime.


070704

HEARTS AND HANDS
(for Rick and Debbie)

Here’s my hand, I give it.
Side by side we stand.
Here’s your hand, I take it.
We live hand in hand.

Hand in hand, we flourish.
Heart to heart, life’s grand.

Loves and joys and blessings
one by one expand—
day by day as hoped,
year by year as planned.


070703

GO FOURTH

Go forth, Marie,
and multiply
your every joy
this Four-July!


070702

MATTER OF MIND

Mantra mind
replays this loop:

What’s best for one
is best for group.
What’s best for group
is best for one.

(What is this “group”?
Who is this “one”? )

Re-Borne Pomes

070628

RE-BORNE

Holding on,
I hold to light.

Through the error
of my day,
through the terror
of my night,
holding on,
I hold to light.

Reaching my extremity,
I release—

Then light holds me.


LITTLE VICTORY

Always I’m
a pome behind,
but just one time
before I’m dead,
just one time
(in fact, this time)
I’ll be a pome ahead.


070627

ANOTHER LIE

I wanted us
to be good friends
but we’re at odds,
and so, at ends.


070626

FOREGONE

Which to choose, fun or chore—
write a pome or mop a floor?
Only time for either/or.
(Nothing here to explore!)


070625


MEANT FOR BREEDING

Five tiny finches share a cage.

Four are female, which sets the stage
for the drama I’ll invite
when I get home tonight.

Stopped at a pet store after work,
found a bargain, paid the clerk.
There’ll be drama; that’s my guess.

Just one mama bird, at best—
just one—can sit this nest.


070624

ESSENTIALS

All I have to stave off death
(besides my body and my breath)
are this paper and this pencil.
I need no other utensil.


070623

OVERABUNDANCE

Blueberries fresh,
blueberries frozen;
what else can I stir up?
Blueberry jam,
muffins, pancakes, syrup.


070622

740 GOES TO FORNEY

Celebrated Janet’s birthday
with lunch at Napoli’s.
An eye-opening comment
prompted some strip T’s.

Because of religious convictions
(rap sheets rather long),
instead of « Happy Birthday »
we rendered this rap song :

Though we’re in this world with Janet,
we live on another planet.
Seven-forty goes to Forney :
left at tower, right at rabbit


070621

VERNAL
EQUINOXIOUS

Nature has
few guarantees.

Every spring
the cats get fleas.


070620

MY LUCKY STAR

Ethan is amazing
he dropped here
from a star—
or somewhere else afar.

My life is amazing;
how lucky can I be?
For Ethan lives with me.


070619

GREENERY

What is green,
besides what’s seen ?

There’s greener grass
than what the sun
shines on.

Go out at dusk,
go out at dawn,
and judge the hue
of each lawn’s view.

The greenest grass
is what the sun
shines through.

Whole Buncha Pomes

070618

SALINE SOLUTION

When something sour
or bitter appears,
When some new challenge
triggers old fears,
When some dire question
or tragedy nears,
Here’s my sum answer:
dissolving in tears.


070617

BEING A DAD

How does a person
who has never been a mother
understand a father?
She can’t.

How does a daughter
who has never been a father
understand her own?
She can’t.

She can only try--
she can recall, muse,
wonder, and appreciate.

Thanks, Dad,
for spending your life on mine.
Thanks for valuing, safeguarding,
and nurturing your family.

Thanks, Dad—for being a dad.


070616

RAZOR WIT

“Houston Special—
that’s your favorite breakfast.
So why the grimace?”

With a forefinger,
he touches the corner of his mouth
gingerly.

“Ingrown hair, I’m thinking.
May have to quit shaving.”

My face registers disapproval,
judging by his own.

“Just here,” he defends himself,
touching the spot again.
“Nowhere else.
Not my bikini line.”


070615

TAKEN IN

i never thought
i was meant to write
i often thought
i was not to

either my angel
or demon muse
goes ha ha ha
i’ve got you


070614

APPETIZER

Mexican eggroll
with pineapple salsa;
nothing rhymes
with that but balsa.


070613

SYSYPHIST

My dream
ran out of steam—
not for its first time.

But then
it rose again—
not for its last climb.


070612

BEFRIENDED

A friend will lend a shoulder,
if you should need to cry.
A friend will lend a hankie
to dry your cheek or eye.

A friend will lend an ear, dear,
if you should weep or sigh.
A friend will end a poem,
if that’s what makes you cry.


070611

[under development]


070610

LAUNDRY PRE-SORT

When did I start
to not like my life?
What does it mean
to be someone’s wife?
When did I start
to feel less than nice?

I thought I could do this.
I thought I could twice.


070609

ROYAL DELIGHT

Emma is a cat
on which to dote.

She’s light and fluffy,
yet doesn’t float.
She’s quick and nimble,
yet not a goat.

Emma is a cat
on which I dote.

Run her for princess—
with her fur coat
and eyes of topaz,
she’d get my vote.


070608

DEARLY BOUGHT

I didn’t do the shopping.
I didn’t write the check.
The gift itself is heaven,
but I will pay like heck.


070607

BURNING THE
MIDNIGHT INK

I need some sleep!
I need some snooze!
But, what-the-bleep,
I’ll take some booze—
words that rhyme, and ink.

Poetry’s my drink.


070606

RELATIVE VALUE

none of these words,
as you know, are “mine,”
unless, perhaps, aloristically,
emphoniously, or zhedat,
and then only briefly,
nor are you “my” reader,
although, somehow,
I get to charge anyway…
oh,
what, by the way,
are you paying
for all these commas?


070605

HORSE-GIFT

Sporty, red, a horse well bred,
I call my Mustang “BAM Babe.”
A hot machine from my marine:
“Grateful’s what I am, Babe!”


070604

[under development]


070603

ANSWER WITH CARE

What can I do to please you,
your friend asks.

What he really wants to know is,
What can I do to please myself
that would please you also?
It’s a very good question.
Do you have a very good answer?


070602

MASK ARRAYED

My behavior defies
my desire to be wise.

Do I have a face,
any face,
that is not a disguise?


070601

PENCILLED IN

The purpose of all this writing,
the purpose of all this thinking,
the purpose of all this—
I’m beginning to expect—
is to be done with writing
and thinking and expectation.

The tighter I hold my pencil,
the tighter it holds me.


070531

INTRUDER I.D.

The other cats
think it’s a cat.

One hides.
One growls.
One is oblivious.
One rubs noses.

Soon it will
master the pet door.
It will come inside,
the little weasel.


070530

QUIERO QUEZO

Beans and rice
would suffice—
but twice
as nice as these
(my own pet vice)
is beans and rice
with sliced, diced,
melted cheese.


070529

AMSTERDAMOISELLE

I’m silently hearing
something appearing—
a swirl or a whirl nearing.

I’m busy Vermeering;
reading and cheering
a girl with a pearl earring.


070529

BEYOND MEASURE

A day I may forget;
a day I may not treasure.
A day without regret;
a day I read for pleasure.


070528

MY DEATH SONG

Beauty. Beauty. Beauty.
From beauty I go.
To beauty I go.
From life, to life.
From love, to love.

Beauty. Beauty. Beauty.
All is well.


070527

FOUNDLINGS

Mama! Kittens came today.
One is orange. One is one gray
All day long they jump and play.
Mama, may the kittens stay?


070526

JUST A SOFTIE

Possum Bill T.
is so suave;
a model of civility.

His pointed snout
and pointy teeth
he uses with agility—
but uses just for
self-defense;
never for hostility.


070526

HONOREE

Men are judged,
and rightly so,
by the company
they keep.

Stand-off cat
claimed Ethan’s lap,
relaxed there,
went to sleep.


070525

NIGHT AT HOME

Open windows,
whippoorwills,
wispy clouds,
and moonglows.

Reading late,
talking long,
familiar sheets
and pillows.


070525

SALVAGE VALUE

Hot red Mustang! What’s it worth?

Price, as wrecked, five hundred dollars;
fix-up cost, a few thousand more;
sales tax, a couple hundred;
property taxes, undetermined.

“Just vehicles? No house or land?”

That’s what the property tax lady
wanted to know when we assessed.
Searching diligently, she discovered
recordkeeping anomalies.

Due to no fault of our own, we owed
delinquent taxes: a dollar seventy-five.
Our entire homestead might soon
have been sold for that amount.

Hot red Mustang! What’s it worth?
Considerably more than blue book.


070524

SALLY INTO SILLY

Buddy, I’m not writing to you.
Nor do I use that book of rules
you drew up after seeing too many words
used too many times and boring yourself
silly. I’m not writing to an audience
either. Readers don’t deserve to be bored,
silly or otherwise, and this would surely
do it, or would set them on edge.
I’m just writing to myself,
because tonight, with the power outage,
and my computer screen the only light
in the house, I find it somehow
narcissistically enchanting to be
silly.


070523

TO SANDRA’S BROTHER
from Jo

Your sister, Sandra, ’s mild and meek;
not the type to curse or shriek.
But when McD’s sold out of Shrek,
she very nearly said, oh heck!


070522

IT’S TOO MUCH

Help! Help! I have too much!

I have too much to do;
much too much, and here is why:
I have too much, don’t you?


070521

BY ME!

Up. Work.
Down again.
Up, work, down.
All again.
Autopilot.

Lately,
I’ve noticed,
I don’t notice
a thing.


070520

DO THE THING

It’s totally optional,
even frivolous.
It will rip me apart.

But I know
I’m going to do it.


070519

BY WACO BRIDGE

Little fuzzy-headed geese,
little gosling babies;
nothing cuter, river-wide—
no ifs, ands, buts, or maybes.


070518

HOME TO HOME

Friday night.
Home from work.
Home to you and babies.

Friday night.
Hold me tight.
Home to you and babies.


070517

WAKE UP CULL

Zap! It hits you, or your friends.

Life as known abruptly ends.
Loss of money; name; health; way;
cache of goods or good cachet:
something (through these very griefs),
winnows excess, scours beliefs.

That same something makes amends;
better life, better friends
(better loved, in any case):
grace transforms us through disgrace.


070516

OFF TRACK

How to publish, where to publish,
when—

no, still whether to publish.

Too busy thinking
about what’s already been written
to actually write—
except. of course, about writing.


070515

RUNNING ON EMPTY

Finally! Alone time.
Drive time...

I am so tired of
think, think, think,
talk, talk, talk,
words, words, words.

Give me a break!

Ahh, reprieve.
Now I can just
put my car in drive,
put my mind in neutral—
Hey! How do you
shut this thing off?


070514

MAMA AND CHILD

Offered by her child:
Yellow rose for drama.

Taking it, she smiled.
Yellow rose for mama.


070513

Mother’s Day

I felt in the peak of health
till I peeked in a mirror,
then fell into a fit of pique.
Now I feel rather peek-ed.


070512

[Under development]


070511

HANNIBAL REVISITED

Start your parents reminiscing
about their early married days, and
you’ll discover how colorful
your childhood was—
quite an adventure,
if you had only known.


070510

OVER COFFEE AND TOAST

Horse-hair snakes
(a whole ‘nuther story)
have the crew at the café laughing.
Others eating there
smile along and launch
side conversations.

“Laughing is important,”
says the elderly woman next table over.
“We should all laugh every day.”

She speaks with earned authority.

Until recently, she worked at
the local footwear factory
in spite of severe arthritis
and swollen hands.

When her retirement became imminent,
her work instructions changed;
she was told to work standing up
for the entire workday.

Knowing what her employers
most certainly did also—
that her body would not stand
the strain—she quit.

She has little money now, she says;
no retirement funds, but no regrets,
no grudges.

She smiles with earned authority.


070509

YOU LOOK LIKE YOU
COULD USE A HUG

cuttlefish, cuttlefish;
do you ever cuddle, fish?
fish so subtle! fish so sly!
with mock meek face
and languid eye;
a masterpiece
of fish eye spy—

cuttlefish, cuttlefish,
do you ever cuddle, fish?
your rounded eye
with squared lid-flap
that doesn’t meet
(that leaves a gap)
never seems to be asleep
never seems to take a nap;
only spy, only peep,
only peer through
tears you weep.


ICHTHY: YES!

What are ichthies?
They are fishies.

One of them’s an ichthyus;
ichthyii is more, is plus;
each-for-all’s an ichthyist.

What’s an ichthyologist?
One who’s very ichthyous;
one who studies (nights and days)
ins and outs of fishy ways.
Should he turn quite wise
at this, he’d turn ichthyosophist.

Now consider; answer this:
what, pray tell, ‘s an ichtheist?


070508

TEXAS BLUES

Above; no blues
at all, for grays surpass.

Below; bluebonnets
all outgrown by grass.


070507

AN EFFORT TO BE AROUND

When will it be enough,
I wonder. How much
must I do? When will life
be satisfied with me?

I suspect the answer is:
when others don’t have to
wonder these very things
in connection with me.


070503-06

[under development]


070502

STORM FELLED

Pinecones
still litter the alley.

At its end,
that tree must have been
scared shitless.


070501

DOGGEREL

if you get
an idea for a poem
and it’s a dog,
you can dress it up
in a frilly outfit
and make it jump
through flaming hoops
or do other fancy tricks,
but it can’t outdo
itself:
it’s always going to be
a dog.


070429

VISITOR INFORMATION CENTER

Welcome to Texas declares the site,
offering parking-space teats aplenty
for every suckling vehicle.

Inside, basins upon basins and
stalls upon stalls assure no stalling.

Obviously, and perennially, and why not—
Texas is always expecting a stampede.

Pomes of Revelry

070429

SIBLING REVELRY

Go away. I was here first.
No, that’s my spot. I want it.
Find your own.
Okay, I’ll wrestle you for it.

Hey, you wrestle good!
Let’s explore.
Let’s play hide and seek
out back by the flower pots.


070428

OZARK BRUNCH

April morning mellow heat
warms this stone; a pleasant seat.

All abounds that makes life sweet:
barest breeze, a buzz, a tweet;
simple fare to drink and eat;
kittens playing at our feet.

Pomes fer Bliss

070427

A DAY FER BLISS

They’s a weddin’ t’day!
A big’n. ‘Deed they is.

They’s a weddin’ t’day!
They two—Ariel ‘n Chris.


FUR FETCHED

One hand, two arms, or one lap
can hold him—the little fellow—
but only if he’s willing.

Too likely to get in trouble
if left to roam outside his cell,
he nevertheless escaped and was
carried back—the little felon—
by the scruff of his neck.


070426

UNDERCOVER AGENT

Camo kitty, sly and sleek
(prodigy of spy mystique),
disappears, then makes a streak;
calico of hide and seek.


HIT A NERVE

It’s all familiar;
gumline injections, banding
and clampling, numbing,
humming of drills,
taps, prods, pressures, tugs,
intermittent gurgles.

Unfamiliar is a remark
about my handling of pain.

The dental assistant
begins to dab at my cheeks
instead of my chin.


YELLOW STREAK

I have two ways of easing pain.
One: give it full attention.
Two: withdraw attention entirely.

Withdraw means
focus on something else.
Neil Sedaka works for awhile;
after that, fingertip sensations—
the texture of my skirt,
my purse beside me,
the vinyl of the chair.
Inner-eyelid viewing is good;
or is it inner-eyes?
No pain there, just abstract art.
Best to make it more engaging,
more compelling, more interactive.
Create purple. There’s a spot;
make it bigger. Bigger. Good.
Actually, purple’s too serene.
Do yellow.


REFRESHMENT

fresh-squeezed
orange tabby


AN EVENING OUT

A day’s worth of toil and turmoil
can melt in less than a minute,
for nothing can unspoil one
like a night with a kitten in it.

[ASIDE: This started out, “There’s nothing to complain of
on a day with a kitten in it.” I like “unspoil one," since it
can refer equally to the day or the person appraising it.



070425

ER, GO!

Economics—
functions and movements
and postures of wealth.

Ergonomics—
functions and movements
and postures of health.

Health and wealth as a pair go.

Ergo:
to make a fair go
at a prosperous life, dare go
under their tutelage.

To win your fair share, go.
Where go they—there go!

Prosperity—
ergo: economics.

Prosperity—
ergo: ergo.


[ASIDE: A slip of paper turned up on my desk
that read, “ergo.” “Ergo, what?” I wondered,
then remembered it was about ergonomics—,
ergo: ergo. I determined to write a poem
that ended with those two differently-pronounced
words. The surprise was that the set-up would
end up being so long and silly.]

Pome Exchange

070424

EXCHANGE

“Wow—new job, more money,
better health,” she enthuses to Ethan,
“you must feel like a new person!”

“Naw,” he says, patting my arm,
“I like the old one fine.”


[Version 1: 070424
EXCHANGE

“Wow, your health, your job,
and your finances have all
just improved dramatically;
you must feel like a new person!”
she enthuses.

He pats my arm,
“Naw! I like the old one fine.”]


070423

MENTAL DENTAL

So how’s your tooth?
Fine, thanks for asking.

Which did you take;
ibuprofen or acetaminophen?
Salt water.

You mean you’re risking a spike
during the writers’ meeting?
The tooth’s been fine all day;
no pharmaceuticals since 3 a.m.

You surely don't think you can self-cure
with your astounding mental powers!
That’s not it.

Then are you just too cheap
to down a pill?
Think whatever you like;
that’s what I’m doing.

Gonna think your way to health, then?
Yes, if that’s possible.
And I’m going to think my way
to silencing inner voices like yours.


CUSP OF TRUTH

Can salt water
cure a tooth?
My back molar
sure is loothe!

[ASIDE: These poems were created in tandem
during a writers' meeting in Dallas.]

070420

GENTEEL

Only on bad days does she appear,
tapping at my window, peering in.

Then she turns outward again
to brace against the day’s misery,
courteously restoring my privacy.

I admit to an affinity toward pigeons,
but Lucy is my favorite fowl-weather friend.


070419

WEEK-AWAY APPOINTMENT

I take this toothache day by day.
I take acetaminophen.

My dentist lives a state away.
That’s the state of state I’m in.


070418

EMBODIED TRUTH

Bodies touch, bodies feel,
making sense and sex appeal.
Bodies hurt; though that’s real,
so is this—bodies heal.


070417

WORK-RELATED

Evonne, Juan, Swan—
three good names.

Swan’s the teacher
(first name James).

Evonne and Juan
team to tame
course logistics;
that’s their game
(thought they also
play at blame).


070416

IN TROUBLE AGAIN

my mentor
is a fomenter


070415

STARTING OVER
(AND OVER)

Recurrent lesson
of apprenticeship;
shed illusions
of mastery.

Pomes at Eleven

074014

ELEVEN A.M. SUNDAY

Ladies arrive
in nighties and caftans
for the buffet brunch.

“At our age,”
says one, buttering her toast,
“we let some things go.”

“At my age,”
says the eldest, raising a toast,
“I let every thing go.”


070413

INVENTORY

He wakes up optimistic.

He wakes up minds
and spirits.
He smiles a lot.

He waters the plants
and the finches.
He tends the cars,
the cats, the fish, and me.
He is generous with praise,
encouragement, flowers,
food, and fun.

Of course, he has ways
over which I inwardly
rant and moan.
He's human; that's part
of the balance.

One of his best attributes:
he doesn't mention
attributes of mine
over which he inwardly
rants and moans.

Everyday Pomes

070412

EVERYDAY ROSES

Early unfolded,
buds and blossoms both
endure the blast
of unexpected frost.

Outer petals shocked,
at first reprieve
they resume unfolding,
releasing their beneficent aroma.


070411

APRIL APPARITIONS

A silent stampede of shadows,
or ghosts of swirling leaves,
flits across the pavement before me.
Behind and above, a pigeon flock
regroups, ascending sunward.


070410

WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT

All day long today,
people around me
said witty things.

Laughing, I remarked
that I would make a poem
of what they'd said.

By nightfall, pencil in hand,
I'd forgotten every key detail.

Maybe I can make a poem
out of what I forgot.
Maybe I can make a poem
out of nothing!

(Seinfeld would be proud.)


040709

PURR POSE

Does that make you
happy, baby?
Does that make you
a happy baby?


070410

INCOGNITO

Skin artificially tanned,
hair artificially dyed,
makeup made-up;
it isn’t that she lied.

Now, plastic surgery—
a further way to hide.


070409

DEVELOPING STORY

Lucy has a boyfriend,
or is one;
that's the office gossip
of the day.

She's been seen
strolling along the ledge
with another of her sort;
we'll call him Desi for now.

And the rest, as they say,
is mystery.

Over and out;
that's today's pigeon report.


070409

ANNIVERSARY OF AN OPPORTUNITY
(words found on a Subway napkin)

The time to write a poem
is when you just lost your cellphone;
the brand new one your husband
gave you only yesterday; the one
that must havepopped out of its holster
in the Goodwill store where you were
trying to get inexpensive furnishings
to establish a new household.

The time to write a poem
is that same evening after you've
stopped at the Shell station
to use their pay phone to call
your husband and let him know
about the cellphone loss.

The time to write a poem
is when you're sitting at a bistro table
in the combined KFC/Subway sandwich
portion of the Shell station,
long after you've eaten a 6-fatgram
teriyaki chicken on wheat with
Lay's potato chips and a diet Coke
instead of the pumpkin pie, tortilla
chips, and casserole dinner that someone
mistakenly placed on your pickup seat,
prompting you head back inside to
try to return it and absent-mindedly
lock the door of the running pickup
in the process.

Now the inexpensive furnishings
lie open to the air in the bed
of your truck; the cab is locked
and the engine is running,
running, running...

The time to write a poem
is after you've reported this
to your husband who is too far away
to rescue you and recommends breaking
some window glass, only you prefer
to enlist the services of a locksmith,
meanwhile wondering what happens
to a truck engine that depletes its gas
while running, running, running...

"Twenty to thirty-five minutes,"
said the locksmith dispatcher
forty to fifty-five minutes ago.

The time to write a poem
is--no time like the present.


051120

NOT FOR RANSOM

Who else would sing throughout his
entire kidnapping? It was unnerving
and strangely thrilling.

Obviously, our restraints were inadequate.
Bound and gagged,he rode between us
in the getaway truck; the steeper the grade,
the louder his tuneful clamor.

Our latest mission requires just such
a defiant spirit. He can be turned;
he is turning already, pacing his
protestations to the rhythm of the road.

He will serve as our sentinel
once loyal to the new camp, tracking our
minutes and sounding out our quarter-hours
from his post on our new home's mantel;
heart and voice of our new home
across state lines.

[ASIDE: Just found this written on
an old notepad. It was dated 051120.]

Salvaged Pome

.
070408

SALVAGE OPERATION

Brilliance of the day.
Power of the night.
No crystal, no lace,
no mahogany in sight.

Bungalow-rate rent.
Pungent shoreline walk.
Seaside harbor havened,
pain resolved, they talk.

[ASIDE: This was purely an exercise.
A local writers group challenged
members to write a poem using these
seven words: resolved, power, billiance,
rent, mahoghany, harbor, pungent.
My meter doesn't match in the two
verses, but somehow that seems okay.]

Comparison Shoppers

Astin Martins, Maseratis,
a Spyker Stryker Spyder,
antique Rollses and Bentleys,
Borders Books' bookshelves
and gift displays--
out for a Saturday drive,
we reconnoitre the territory
of our dreams.

Why do you suppose?

... what I compose doesn't look like the preview, and neither one looks like the post. What's with these Blogs; no WYSIWYG? And what's with the line spacing; why does it condense?

Oh, yes... why does this cloud picture appear the same size whether I order up large, medium, or small? What gives?

Strange Weather

That pale-rimmed,
February sky
was upholstered by
tufted gray clouds.

They hovered
oppressively overhead
like a gigantic mattress.

Lucky me!
That was the day
my whole world
turned upside down.

[ASIDE: Actually, it was an April sky but a February mood.]

Nano Poem Eight

Them little nanoparticles!
Dunno how they starticle
to work into your brain,
work into your hearticle.

Its kinda hard ta know ‘em,
but learn; you’ll get so smarticle!
They may inspire a poem,
or book, or nano article.

You're Smart—Why Aren't You Rich?

Something’s surely wrong
if you think there’s a message
here for you; a smart person would know
by virtue of his very life, breath,
health, and ability to think and read
that he is already rich beyond calculation.
If you want to make money,
though, quit just reading about it.

Nano Poem Seven

They’re everywhere you look
but nowhere to be seen.
They come in every color
but hopefully they’re green.

Nano-thingies:
wow, they’re keen—
ultra, infra, in-between!

Debut

Greetings, Spy Pilot~

After years of your encouragement at poetry-writing and months of your encouragement at blogging, I dunnit--got launched!

This is pretty basic, but I'm proud to start.

Link to me! ~Jo