Whoa Poems -

For the visitor…lush imagery, fragmented laughs, wavering lines.

Currently random but eventually categorized. Maybe.

Shit

She recycles her old college notes
Tips her rinsed tea cup into the strainer

Puts the cooled boiled eggs in the fridge
Almost loses it on the way to the toilet

Desponds and despairs
over her lack of accomplishments

Rebukes her age
and cleans the cat boxes

Sleight

Put on your heart-trampling shoes and get to work
Sashay along my levee walls and find my gate

Lazy jolts and fluttered looks, a cloying touch
roost persuasion in my heart-bank’s vault
Using your sleight of tongue
you pilfer and stupefy

Tilted (it looks a little)
Nearing jilted, my unfortunate defenses
have no chance though they stand bundled
against your onslaught

Backsies

Take me back about 5 steps
and help me figure out where
I was going with this turbulent tangent

Was I about to blame my mother
for my own nutty-ness or naughty-ness
Or describe how dad came to be
where he is and that’s why I’m
where I am

And to they who say you can’t
blame your parents for your B.S.
yes and no
Isn’t that what they’re there for
To mold and guide and goad you
however horribly or helpfully they do

Forged

Standing of the brink of aging
I look back and laugh
Or is it weep
Am I a success
Is my canvas a forgery?
I made you grin, chuckle, weep
roll your eyes
question
Have I had any affect at all
I must say I’m
sorry to see your smile muscles have
atrophied

Tinkerbelle

Hunching muscles overtaxed
the pooped poet takes her two-furred beast
double coated double trouble
Tinka-puss
to the window
to share widened pupils
and a chattering laugh
at the chattering birds

Hope in our lifetime hews and tears us
Find it in walking away on twigs
What we nurture likens to nature
Lose it in the glow of a bulb and the suspicion of a filament
Trek into a native land and find the heir setting

Erp

A puff of sadness burps up from my diaphragm
Imagining the past worse than it was
Constantly beating myself up
Bright spots remind me of better days
One of which will come tomorrow
Bad today good tomorrow
And vice versa
And so gusts go

Weren’t We

We are neither of us ideal

I needed you to tell me to take a
hike off the edge of heartbreak cliff

Was I?
Wasn’t I there?
Wasn’t I right?

We are nobody’s favorite people

A formerly grand shell hollowed of soul, now detritus and dust that flowers resist

We are all of us doomed

Filigreed paper sadness repels the finger

A stretch between uch and heartstrings aflutter, none of the latter

Prickly eyes close; misery bubbles

We are none of us doomed

Birds still fight and maim and cannibalize

Bees turn on return

Pondering Purmione-Puss

Say hello to the Dark One, Purmione,
for whom words could be spilled all day

Purmione the energetic
Purmione the race horse
Purmione the crazed

Nincompuss

She who buzzes in sleep
She with the begging golden eyes
She who is missing a feline filter

Scatter-logical black-catted beast
If my heart had a heart had a heart
If ever I ode it to cats

Purmione a-buzz

Quietless gloom
A vibration here, a weeping there
Click
Hum
Shake
Rattle
Bustle
A rhythmic world
A lost pond
The snapping beech
The seen and the
unseen thrum and rustle
audacious in
the breath of the wind
Rocky pre-spring hewing winter’s deductible gift
Awash with notes of bark
She titters
shrugs a shoulder
rolls an eye

Old Mrs. Arrogance

Known to have a solid stance

Hides behind her outrage

Lies directly to your face

Happy almost New Year promised Old Mrs. Arrogance

A revision
A revising
A reversing
A reversion

Naturally there was an innocent ring to this conundrum’s beginning

Judgement/judgment/get it right

That’s Me

You don’t deserve my genius

My eyes turn titmice turquoise, the ghost of a bluebird

Sunshine and spotlights lessen not the darkness

An image so clear it’s like I got knocked in the head

Full due

Hands air-stab my temples, heart, face, hips

Crooked smiling jokester eye-rolls and sighs

Judgement/judgment/get it right

All over the place

Tulip Soup

The northern lights imitate tulip soup
Pulses from the past light a path
Bulb and flowers’ filaments twist like a redheaded tingle
A life-changing nap! Only better
Turning off the shine
to dream of
a luscious tableau of roasted, pickled,
green, savory and sugared nuggets
Was I previously dreaming?
An epic swirl of cocktails and fireflies dusts
and calms the corners
of my slumber

Hidden

Previously believed
eternally hidden in the ground

A corpse of storm-slain tree roots
No moratorium on will

Worms, bugs, bacteria and microbes supported
by another’s dirt coma

The wasp a springtime sniper
arises from its pithy sandy brown rocky burrow

A smirk, a shoulder shrug, an eye roll from Mother

Torpor

Like cats or ants in torpor

Startled to a soft head/soft day

Deadened trees clutch scaly grey senescence

I blossom pins and needles, inhaling the quilt’s furry smothers

The pendulum stabs stabs stabs Thursday’s grind to ash