When From Des Arc to Brinkley, Arkansas The podcast is drowned out by The steady and yet aggressive Pitter patter on the windshield And you can only drive At a speed around 40 And the crop dusting Airplane is parked And shock Sets in As a Lightning Bolt suddenly Jolts near your car You think then it doesn’t Matter how far you have to go Just as long as you get there safe
What do I recall of my grandparent’s home? The combined smell of them and their living There. I was keenly aware of strong coffee aromas, Tasty baked goods too, and how well we seemed to all gel. What could be heard there? Shuffling of cards, two decks mostly, Ghostly tv screen static as they fell asleep Again to the late night news, reclined softly. What else did I see? Golly gee, what didn’t I see in the garden we planted outside Taken inside to cook after me poking deep in soil, where Fat worms roamed and ants tried making their home? How about fresh mint mixed with sugar, water, and tea bags, Drags of ash growing longer, closer to their cigarette butts, Plus a sizzling pan of fried eggplant bubbling in the oil? Yes, I was quite spoiled too when we left all that. Pawpaw’s hat? Check. Cane polls, bait, a light snack In the backseat next to me in the old Chrysler Plymouth. Perch with cut off heads, scaled, and back into the frying pan Our hands were always full of life, liberty, and our mouths Were quite proud of our hard work and family quirks.
The water movements And reflections of sunlight Create great delight
We each reflect a mere shade of the divine Why should I shame one with a different shade than mine Mine, as if I possess what’s been entrusted to me A gift rusted from being overexposed to my ego Low and behold, there’s a newness, a purity, an innocence Waiting to be unearthed, baptized into consciousness Self meet soul child, whose been present since birth Rehearsed away by your unconscious, spiraling actions Now rising a Phoenix, dusting off the thing that you called your life Rife with life in a True Tone, renewed to your shade of divine, sublime
When light suddenly dissipates And darkness overshadows you What is that sense you get within? That powerful feeling called dread Status update: a cloud overhead Then you relax as your keen senses Diligently continue their important work Driving my kids to school one morning I discovered animals, different sorts even Have theses senses too, although maybe less Exhibit A: a young squirrel running forward Instead of, like most its kind, darting to the side Passing dead momma or papa, finally it runs up a tree Or take the oversized puppy, oddly seen after Plodding along like an idiot in the street, literally Excited to please, presenting himself in front of cars Alas, on par, is a mourning dove, seen last Passing from side street into my street slowly Noticing near death, it backs up looking quite lowly
If I had to be woken up early I guess I’d rather it be by owls Their long Os are soothing to me This really happened one day Once when my wife woke at 3 am In order to teach her online class, yay The second sound was jarring, ah My wife’s alarm sound is of an old Time-y car horn: Ah-woooooo-gah Again, I prefer the initial Os Of one owl talking to another Peacefully: Who-ooo-oo-oo-oo I wonder if they were settling in for the night From doggedly hunting their prey down all day
“There are moments that cry out to be fulfilled.” - Mary Oliver For Justin Holloway Mud-marked stencils of leaves on the concrete Remind me of recent rains that spanned days But let’s not genuflect on fall’s ugly beauty Instead, there’s a day most special to me Picture that first real day of the season When we all went down to Peebles Farm Charmed by the thoughts of pumpkin patch As our friendship, true and meaningful, latched You wore your puffy black vest While the sun shone oh so bright Right in our faces as we waited and waited For funnel cake and kettle-cooked corn to satiate Inquiries brought new discoveries of living Once in California and other shared interests Rest beckoned somewhere behind the scenes yet We hid time away, happily and otherwise invested There was a spirit in the air, full of cheer As we, with glee, sat by the fire and talked on Drawn to deep speaking to deep and the mystery Of others coming together to be seen and also to see
1 Lie down we now, fast awake Wondering what we want to do Considering all we have at stake Sleep deep soon as restless fools 2 Snuggle her fast, tight enough She feels mostly contentment Eyelids shifting, now abrupt Sun down, moon revenant 3 Brain cells fire, then reload Slow and cease taking in Cycle a different mode Living essence within
They say humans live to eat and eat to live Well, my dog plays to live and lives to play I say too that I live to drink beer and whiskey But that doesn’t work round the other way Hey, my problem really is living to eat Past a treat or minor indulgence I full blown overindulge, since I stopped paying attention And round and round We go again, asking Is it better to live to eat Or eat to live?
Here's a little beach inspired poem to brighten your day. I can't wait to go back! "Attention" Reading tea leaves at the beach, The man bends down picking up What he decided deserves attention: A barnacle shell cluster I found lots of pelican Feathers I can utilize As quills with ink wells for many letters To my beloved friends and family Not bad for a day rainy, now windy This day fits over my soul like a glove As others shove nets in for some treasure And thwack-thwock a ball in a game they love
POETRY, RANDOM THOUGHTS AND STUFF LIKE THAT....
Where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry.
Poetry BLOG By Edge of Humanity Magazine
a life incredible, vivid, excellent.
Gnawing on Life One Bite at a Time
Speaking in a hundred silent ways
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This is all going on in mine....whts in yours??
Rhymes and Reasons
Brett Kristian
Poetry, haiku, tanka, and micropoetry
traditional haiku in the english language
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At the table in picture and verse
Hardtack Rat 