launch code

 

soul is constant

a bell whose rope is already pulled

ringing in my ears all day long.

my body is its dog

sticking close, loyal as hell,

but short-lived. 

stars are soul

that couldn't be contained

kissing the dark with intention.

one day my body

past all nursing past all curing

will open like an underground silo

and everything

will expand in an instant BOOM

wow, hi, i'm not

an ant, i'm

a piece o' god on fire across the sky--

icarus eat your heart out.

_________

for Word Garden Word List--Gerard Manley Hopkins 

Music: Shay Torrent Flying Fiddles

Rosey

 I'm not much for babies.

Oh, I dispense a few sweet noises on demand

like a reluctant gumball machine,

but as often as not, the nickel gets jammed and there I am,

stifling a yawn.

My own child was different of course, but he's grown and gone.

I look around, and it feels like my heart is bunged,

So today I'm on the sidewalk in front of a pet supply store,

navigating the cages, looking.

I'm drawn 

to the shy ones,

the small ones,

the hurt ones,

the lonely ones. 

C'mere baby, come to mama,

Come on-a my house, my house-a come on.

I will make you bold.

I will make you safe.

I will make you well.

I will make you loved. 

It's mother-magic, presto! and we'll make a ton of it

out of thin air.

_______

The Knave Of Hearts Victorious

There is a sweet weight beside me in bed

curled close,

and that is my heart wandering

beyond the edges of my skin.

There is a jester who conquers with nonsense.

Ancient queens called, "Bring me my fool!",

but I am the witless one enticed into battle

over a headless rag that used to be a green frog.

See, Master? My heart is flown

and follows wherever you go,

like a colorful pennant declaring my imprimatur and blessing 

over Lord Goodboi, royal dog!

________

for Sunday Muse #119.

Old King Bosco, blind but still all-seeing. I was (and am) his personal Sheep to herd.

 

Young King Bosco, certain of a treat!

Zacky Peanut, heir to the royal throne!

Dogs

There are dogs who carry Winter in their mouths
and when they smile, it is your smile
with teeth as white as pitcher-cream.

Like you, the dogs do not speak
because what they want cannot be put in words.
With eyes like November noon-dusk,
they radiate need and knock my heart over
low enough to be carried off and cached.

In frost-dark, I am the Moon,
and the dogs are rings around me.
We howl at every kindness because we know
it isn't freeze that makes us flinch, but thaw. 

Like the dogs, I carry Winter in my mouth,
and when I smile, it is your smile
like a collar around my tongue
from a Master who wanted me
silent, but devoted, and other such prideful notions.
______ 

Big Boss Z

Peanut Man goes out in his back yard on a windy afternoon, picking his way carefully over the ice beside the house, and then high-tailing it over the snow to the back fence to see what neighbor dog Quinn has to say. That accomplished, he sees the birds under the feeder and takes a duty run at them, delighting in making them fly.

windy afternoon

bird house on its string swaying

as winter hangs on

______

for Season Your Poetry pt. 2

If those birdies want their seed, got to talk to Mister Z

 

The Walnut Leaves, In Their Terror

The walnut leaves fall in groups,
In fear of
Zacky Peanut, who brooks no nonsense
And is ferocious (but fair.)

Into their bags they go,
Silent siblings to the sticks
Also lately fallen.

She who has a dog
Need never fear walnut leaves
For he is a Good Boi
And always at the ready.
_____

for Real Toads.

Letter To An Old Love

I have arrived here, no wiser.
I'm sorry, a million times over,
but for what? All and nothing.

I meant well.
I was hopeful.
Weren't you?

Every beginning is a poison tree.
I know this and still I
tend each one as a favored child
and wear the blooms in my hair like an ingenue.
________

For Kerry's 55 Plus at Real Toads. The "plus" is to write with your favorite tearjerker song in mind. Here's mine: