wednesday

and here it come
the most famous day of the week
there is so much about it
of those things I speak

first, it has a nickname
hump day is the thing
get over this day and you’re there
or maybe you like to swing

then, it has impossible spelling
the n after the d
why it is pronounced that way
i can’t really see

the final thing i notice
it has the most letters
this day tries really hard
to make none other better

yes this is wednesday
the day smack in between
one thing you may not know
this day’s color is green

tuesday

well, here comes tuesday
it always feels
like monday’s lost cousin
not too much appeal

a person may have
a feeling of hate
for other days, but tuesday
doesn’t have that weight

it just sits between
two days that are famous
you can ignore tuesday
you really can’t blame us

just another day
as the week goes along
not too much notice
nothing too strong

there is one thing maybe
that tuesday can claim
and that thing is tacos
Taco Tuesday, a good name

so go eat some tacos
if that is your thing
there are no other praises
of this day i can sing

monday

let’s explore this new beginning
i hold that monday starts the week
you may say sunday but
not for me, not this geek

monday’s the starting point
a nice clean slate
a time to set plans
to do something great

it has none of the baggage
of deeds just half done
it has all of the promise
of battles to be won

yes, monday feels shiny
and new and exciting
adventures and exploits
and no more fighting

with yourself to do things
things you don’t like
mondays are days
when it all seems just right

so enjoy this new vision
this endless landscape
of all that is possible
what will take shape

magnification

Have you ever felt small
like no one can see you at all?

Have you ever felt big
like you are some sort of pig?

Have you ever felt like hiding
because you were getting some chiding?

Have you ever felt important
because you did something to warrant it?

Have you ever wondered
what is your real size?
Would you be
quite surprised
to find that we all
use different eyes?

what if you were

What if you were a pirate and sailed a mighty ship
You were out there on the open seas
a rum bottle on your hip

What if you were a knight and rode a regal steed
You were out there on the open moors
ready to do your next good deed

What if you were a wizard and could cast magic spells
You were out there in the dense forest alone
finding evil where it dwells

What if you could imagine
almost anything around
Put yourself right in the action
and feel how it all goes down

You can do that anytime
with the eye of your own mind
use your imagination
and see what you might find

all the letters for you

A is for Always, right there beside me

B is for Best friend, forever

C is for Cuddles, early each day

D is for Dog, nothing better

E is for Ears, yours are long and they flop

F is for Friend, here again

G is for Gassy, you sometimes are

H is for Heart, mine you are in

I is for Itchy, you seem to be sometimes

J is for Jumpy, for sure

K is for Kisses, when saying good bye

L is for Lap, mine is yours

M is for Missing, I do when I’m gone

N is for Nails, yours are long

O is for Open, I want to go out

P is for Petting, stopping is wrong

Q is for Quiet, not with the mailman

R is for Race, to the door

S is for Smelling, pretty much everything

T is for Treats, give me more

U is for Usual, isn’t it time for a walk?

V is for Vet, we must go

W is for Water, I love to jump in

X is for Xray, oh no!

Y is for Young, I wish you could always be

Z is for Zillion, the pounds of joy you bring me

❤️ This poem is dedicated to my friend David and his new buddy Athos. ❤️

the small girl

did you happen to see
the other day
among the leaves and branches and sticks and bugs
waking up

the small girl
peering out
I could only see her eyes and I wondered why she was there
she disappeared

I pondered
only lightly
if she lives out there alone and does she need something more
she is gone

under a tree

i’m seeing it all
as a great adventure to test
out things that i have not tried before to watch
what happens when i try something new and maybe
delight in what occurs or maybe not like it at all but it is
becoming clear that it does not matter much what happens
once the deed is done and the thing whatever the
thing is yes we have tread that ground
before but sometimes perhaps
i will get tired and i
will
want
to sit
under
a tree
and
rest
and
see
bees buzz
around me and
then i will smile and be done

The Letter

I am exploring forms of poetry. One is called The Letter or Epistolary or Epistle. Not that I knew this before I looked it up but a piece of learning - the Latin word "epistula" means "letter."

---

Here I am again, coaxing
At your door, waiting for you to throw confections
out of the window
Trick or Treat… Trick or Treat

I have, up to now, known you to be
benevolent
Always giving me what I want and sometimes much more
But trust does not come easy
on this side of the glass

I want to confess something to you
I hope this doesn’t damage Us
Yes, I called Us, this thing we are doing,
an Us, is that ok?

I’m afraid I haven’t given you what you need
Does that make any sense?
Instead of bringing you Walt Whitman
I show up with Walt Disney
Instead of Robert Bly
I bring you Rob Lowe

What I’m trying to say
is I may have brought us down.
I worry, I’m sure you feel this,
and oh I hate to say this,
that your ability is not as it once was.

Maybe I’m wrong?
I hope I am.
I have noticed one thing, as I struggle to change
the tone and the tenor and the vibe and the feeling and the spirit of this letter
Is that you don’t let me down with knowing where to go next.

So perhaps as I reflect in this Epistolary
(and yes, there we see a new kind of diet emerging)
we will venture forth as Us

Using our diet full of sweets as our starting point
and maybe even our ending point
how can we really know?

I will work on Trusting.
And, here I turn again and ask you,
can you work on Focus?

Sometimes this new diet does seem bland
or boring or dense or impenetrable or impossible or tiresome or irksome even
but I have the feeling we need to keep ingesting it, albeit slowly.

I have no expectations,
and let’s make this clear here as we make this stop along the way,
I have no imagination of becoming who We aren’t.
What I want, and it is really fairly simple,
is to make something that someone else, who isn’t Us,
might call Beautiful. And maybe I also want Us to call it Beautiful.

Not all the time, mind you.
But sometimes, or even once.

There is really so much to learn.
I’m seeing it all as a great adventure.
Maybe here I can close with this -
I am glad you are my partner.
I can imagine no better traveling companion as you.

I’m sure we will stumble, we have many times.
But we will keep going and
because I know how We are together,
we will have some fun doing it.

the beast in the east?

i saw it in Panama
it had a great big jaw

it was just standing still
and it gave me lots of chills

i still don’t know what it was
that is likely 'cuz

when i saw it there
i ran away like a hare

maybe it was a yeti
standing there on the jetty

maybe the ness monster from loch
standing there on the dock

i know it was something to fear
standing there on the pier

oh wait…
i just realized something
is it possible i have been wrong
was that thing that i saw
with the big giant jaw
was that just a sculpture or statue?

The Villanelle

I am working on learning different forms of poetry. Here are two poems that are written in a structure called a Villanelle.

---

The Truth of We

There is a matter dear to me
Tender purpose I hold close
A place others do not see

Setting aside my own warm tea
To make the meal loved most
There is a matter dear to me

Stopping to tend the growing weeds
I allow occasional boast
A place others do not see

Listening to unvoiced needs
I see a long past ghost
There is a matter dear to me

Watching for the urge to flee
I reach for inside post
A place others do not see

Hoping for the truth of we
To invite my heart to host
There is a matter dear to me
A place others do not see

---

Lick of Madness

Lick of madness, rough worn tongue
Words have claws and bite
Smoke of sadness, overcome

Return again to be stung
Hold shoulders tight
Lick of madness, rough worn tongue

Knife of malice, slice and hum
Letters twist out of sight
Smoke of sadness, overcome

Endure days, lowest rung
Do not dare to fight
Lick of madness, rough worn tongue

Quiet sorrow never sung
Retreat day and night
Smoke of sadness, overcome

Breathe it now from your own lung
The wettest form of fright
Lick of madness, rough worn tongue
Smoke of sadness, overcome

a wagon of witches

a story with witches
or beasts or a dragon
why are these tales
i want to put in my wagon

i think it’s because
they smell like magic
and in my mind
there is nothing so tragic

as this boring old world
of going along
just doing your chores
not singing a song

i would rather
devour my life
get sort of dirty
go fly a kite

i know i don’t listen
nearly often enough
to this life nudging
i’m afraid i’m not tough

instead i stay safe
follow the rules
let’s be real honest
this gives me the blues

so when i hear
of a beast who is growling
there is a part of me
that wants to start howling

it is honestly truly amazing
that i can conjure a thing out of air
something a moment ago
just wasn’t there

something appears
that wasn’t before
and all of a sudden
life’s not a bore

it is almost as if
it becomes real
and then magic
i start to feel

so bring on the dragons
the beasts and tree frogs
watch them all moving
among those big logs

make it a big
and mighty narration
it is all coming
from my own imagination

the words come

what do you do if you have nothing to say

you wake up one day with the words gone away

do you stomp your feet and wring your hands

sit down with yourself and make some demands

or do you open your mind and your heart

let something flow, don’t worry about art

let your brain start to dream and imagine

allow some new letters to arrive in a pageant

not out of order, nothing like that

but just something silly that rhymes with say cat

something might happen, something silly indeed

and you learn that the words come just when you need

an accidental love poem?

stalking
quietly slowly stealthily
waiting watching noticing

this prize i want to catch
it comes in many forms
this road that i have traced
it has passed through many storms

it has been always
a challenge to my will
to keep on going
and going i am still

i thought i had caught the thing
several years ago
but it vanished from my grasp
and starting again has been slow

it feels premature to ask
how to keep it caught
the question that is here right now
is whether i can catch it or not

maybe i need to change my tack
consider it more of a courtship
woo it with some love poems
not start out with a guilt trip

leave it little treats and such
say things just to flatter
make sure that it knows the truth
tell it how much it matters

stalking quietly waiting
seeing those small tracks of
a wondrous thing i really need
something that i love

guess you had to be there

seasons bees birds squirrels
crickets mosquitoes anteaters

wait a minute
stop right there
you’ve seen an anteater?
yes, fighting a bear

oh come on, this is crazy
where could you possibly see that?
i saw it in Panama
while getting a hat

you are making this up
you are pulling my leg
nope, i saw the whole thing
the bear’s name was meg

oh come on now, get real
i can’t believe that
what was the anteater’s name?
i suppose it was matt!

no, he was charlie
and meg was his friend
meg wore glasses
at least until when

charlie had come
from a feast of termites
and meg was just lumbering
as bears often might

charlie was bragging
and waving his snout
meg got fed up
and started to shout

this is crazy, i’m walking away
i can’t believe one word you say

that’s fine, do whatever
your loss indeed
you won’t hear the part
where i intercede

you stopped a fight
between anteater and bear!?!?
i did, most surely
guess you had to be there

a space inside you

can you find a space inside you
a place you sometimes go
where everything is quiet
where your thoughts you come to know

when you go to this fine place
what person do you meet
do you treat her with affection
or is there some mean heat

can you tell her she is fine
that nothing is so wrong
this message can be hard to hear
while in the worldly throngs

but in this inside space of yours
maybe make it clear
that no matter what’s outside
this inside space is dear

send the message to yourself
that you love you true
if you can do that for you
there is nothing you can’t do

the truth of perfect

what if you found a bag of perfect
and put it on your back
would you always be real happy
would your life be void of cracks

is it possible you’d discover
that the richness is beneath
you find it when you have some tears
and when you grit your teeth

disguised as some struggle
and a little bit of strife
the truth of perfect seems to be
it doesn’t make a life

the dog is here

I get a little frantic
when I see that we
forgot to buy more coffee

today I am tired
and weary
in the space between wanting to sleep
and wanting to be productive

but the dog is here
and we did have some coffee
and I am cozy

a raft of words

on a raft of words
she set sail one day
not sure where she was going
but sure she’d be ok

her raft was not so mighty
she made it all herself
the words were small and mostly rhymed
none from a fancy shelf

the trip would teach navigation
to heed the inner compass
she expected many times
to become cattywampus

on one certain day
of her fateful trip
she came across a ship
it was poems that won awards
and her raft it almost tipped

but onward she kept going
sailing on her raft
because she was determined
to wield this mighty craft

not sure where she is going
but sure she’ll be ok
as long as words keep flowing
for another day

somewhere else

i wish i lived somewhere
where people always said hello
if any person moved away
you were sad to see them go

i wish i lived somewhere
where people liked each other
if any person disagreed
you were anxious to discover

what made them think so different
was it some evil spell
or was it perhaps some underneath thing
that you in fact have as well

i wish i lived somewhere
where it was easier to go along
there wasn’t so much hate churned up
where it seems other is so wrong

maybe the place i want to live
maybe it can’t be real
instead i’m left with a world of hate
it is sad but it is how i feel