Collection plate

The riches I've collected
in my years life purse
pocket butterfly net
could be whispers
words wordly goods

they persuade the senses
to believe cry love
scream smile live
out loud so everyone
can see hear taste

touch the bitter tears
the sweet honey
laughter the warm
embrace of your gaze
arms soft breath in
my ear

Glee club

Loving her was a breeze.
She had a
laugh that tickled the senses,

the kind of giggle that
crept up the
corners of your own mouth

till your chuckling joined the
choral crescendo and
filled every inch of atmosphere.

It reminded you of warm summer
days running barefoot
through the grass and mellow

afternoons splayed belly up in
a field, just
enjoying the breeze with friends.

Yes, loving her was easy.
And her sunny
smile still keeps you warm.

Smittener

Inspired by Sandol Stoddard Warburg's "I Like You," the most amazing love poem I've heard, which was read at a wedding I attended yesterday.

SMITTENER
I know it's not a word
but I don't care because
you speak my language.

Weather vain

You blew in like a
hurricane, a force
of nature looking for love.

You were raw and wild,
chapping our faces
as we watched you pass.

The storm chaser grinned. He
delighted in you,
knew you'd tame to an

ocean breeze that would kiss
our cheeks and
stroke our hair. He smiles

every time that weather vane
turns, grabs his
umbrella and watches the show.

better off blind

sometimes i wonder
if my eyes could be shuttered
if i would even mind

sometimes i think
feeling the braille of your skin
would be much better

than reading your face
and thinking i understand
your entire story

sometimes i wonder

Saved by the bell haikus

"Saved by the bell" is the prompt for Carry on Tuesday. And it conjures so many different things for me!

SIT CALM
Saturday mornings
I spent with Bayside High School
I miss Zack Morris

---

RINGSIDE
He starts with such fight
Throwing jabs and lefts and rights
But a hook stops him

---

PAY THE TOLL
I'm not an island
My life is your life, and your
death is also mine

Hell on wheels

An tribute to the mad men of Kerouac's "On the Road," men who rubbed their bellies and talked about life and laughed so loudly that people must've thought they'd gone mad.


HELL ON WHEELS
Sometimes it calls, that slow
burn of madness,
a spring fever that sweeps

like a brush fire through
your senses and
drives you toward the road

to an adventure that leads
wherever we feel
at that very moment, to

the places we're meant to
be, and to
the us we're always becoming.

After burn

It's been awhile since I wrote about our house fire in July 07, but it's always therapeutic and my thoughts about it are still evolving.

AFTER BURN
There is nothing left here,
just the shambles
of our past life together

heaps of blackened pictures and
memories of a
past that's better off forgotten.

We paint each other's faces
with the soot
and no longer recognize ourselves.

Extra sugar, please

Coffee is an acquired taste
sort of bittersweet
like a long kiss goodbye

Sweet sorrow

Whenever you leave, a part
of my heart
always goes along with you