week 677 [from week 1] a simple transference of radiance

a simple transference of radiance
at the moment the sun hits the water
before it’s extinguished light together
with reflection a golden circumstance
that we await wine glasses held ready
to salute and in that instant we are
giddy with twilight the ocean calls our
names watching waiting darkness descend we
head indoors light within us laughing at
our good fortune to be here friends away
from all that is uncertain morning may
overwrite this feeling but we know that
for now we are strongly simply happy
and everything is just as it should be

week 676 [from week 2] I swallow my heart like a goldfish

I swallow my heart like a goldfish and
hope it remembers how to swim back to
its old spot in my chest what did I do
to end up holding disappointment’s hand
again I say it doesn’t matter it
really does though I close my eyes but my
mind pops open and as hard as I try
I can’t collide with sleep so we just sit
my dreams and I on the edge of the bed
and wait it out like drunkards or cowboys
or someone with plans until light destroys
our refuge and day drags us out instead
of hope grant me a lifetime warranty
so I can schedule my recovery

week 675 ~ the bittersweet morning arrives in grey

the bittersweet morning arrives in grey
trailing a rain cloud on the horizon
we wake up in an uncertain autumn
a tilted world holds disaster away
with thumbtacks as hope slides to the edge say
what you will we can taste oblivion
in our cornflakes in our eggs overdone
in our coffee bitter and black today
we suit up to save the world though doubtful
of the tools we can employ we’re steadfast
armed with a belief that democracy
won’t fail on our watch chewing a mouthful
of all that’s gone wrong we mean to outlast
our misfortune from sea to shining sea

week 655 ~ the world of tattoos and a pickup truck

the world of tattoos and a pickup truck
American dreams now riddled with rust
someone’s utopia sneer if you must
but where you grew up’s a product of luck
and what you believe shows whose words you read
we all still have parents and families
children we want to be happy one breeze
can knock us into a new path so heed
the little voice of doubt look through someone
else’s glasses squinting into the sun
being kind’s the best choice in the long run
perhaps there’s common ground before you’re done
look truth in the eye our land of the free
demands we all deserve equality

week 653 ~ as you fall off the edge of the known world

as you fall off the edge of the known world
remember to reach for your sanity
or what’s left for the future’s not pretty
and you’ve been living indoors tightly curled
up in a ball of denial the loss
has made prognostication difficult
will your wings still work or is the result
of brain disuse disabling please don’t toss
jagged shards of truth at anyone fly
as best you can right now because escape
is essential to progress to reshape
expectations will take time you and I
don’t have so let’s just move ahead seeming
convinced we’ve not reached the end of dreaming

week 643 ~ woman who lives at the edge of the world

woman who lives at the edge of the world
at the end of time the mother of all
who have lost their way forward hear my call
as I stumble my destination twirled
in the claws of defeat unraveling
while I wait and grow old without solace
no sheltering harbor here or safe place
to rest or hold fast always traveling
in circles asking why I can’t break through
grabbing hold of my own inner wildness
fighting to eradicate spurious
references to expectations to do
what I do well do best is all I ask
some opportunity outside this mask

week 641 ~ pouring music in the top of my head

pouring music in the top of my head
until it fills my ears blocking the sound
of what isn’t happening here around
me anymore the atmosphere is dead
and dampened spirits drift ever lower
causing my motor to run down nothing
inspires or engages far from spring
raw cold seeps through the cracks moving slower
I fear I may stall out and sit useless
it’s just a matter of time before rust
renders all progress futile who can trust
themselves to plot a future course to guess
how the world works its way out of this maze
where hopes flounder in a morass of days

week 635 ~ I wish it had not happened in our time

I wish it had not happened in our time
this pathway isn’t one we’d ever choose
but we are on it regardless of whose
nightmare valley boxed us in we can’t climb
out by sheer will stuck in a pantomime
of the life we were living when our muse
had free reign it does no good to accuse
while mourning hapless souls lost in their prime
so we trudge on and go nowhere staying
safely home as more lost days trickle by
redrawing roadmaps as music playing
evaporates and make us want to cry
out in frustration as patience fraying
releases fading hopes in one long sigh

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.

week 629 ~ as the seasons are all a kerfuffle

as the seasons are all a kerfuffle
we become tourists in our own backyards
umbrella drinks in November muffle
election confusion sending postcards
back to summer waiting for early snow
we keep gloves sneakers umbrellas ready
when the future says maybe where should we go
stark changes leave us bewildered heady
fumes of too late rend us dizzy stalled here
asking the path forward what we can do
in the face of disaster when we all fear
regretting decisions please tell us who
knows how this will all work out in the end
will nature undone still have time to mend

week 620 ~ writing poems on the empty pages

writing poems on the empty pages
of our passing summer to overlay
a desert of cancellations they say
there’s no end in sight it seems like ages
since the topsy-turvy righted itself
when we could see ahead to a clear space
beyond the mountain of no we erase
forward momentum stash dreams on a shelf
precariously stacked dangerous to
ask when what if we stand with fingers crossed
mourning months of plans alas now lost
with friends and family far away we do
what we can to build a now while before
gropes ahead blindly searching for the door