I didn’t answer the phone.
it was ringing.
I’m not a telephone ignorer.
but I didn’t want,
like you,
to talk to anyone either.
call me,
we can talk about it.
false spring
the rain drop
in february
washed winter
to the curb
long enough
to remember
layerless forays
into a day
wrapped warm
‘round my neck
without a
cowled knit.
the laird of my heart
a ballad (sung low and slow with the whine of a blustery wind and a belly full of beer)
the laird of my heart,
oh, he's the laird of my heart.
over loch and great glen,
my heart I did send.
I gave him my time,
I thought he was mine.
the laird of my heart,
oh, he's the laird of my heart.
his love I held dear,
without any fear.
he left what he made,
his feeling did fade.
the laird of my heart,
oh, he's the laird of my heart.
now the loch holds my tears,
what will come of the years.
he owns my sad heart,
even if we're apart.
the laird of my heart,
oh, he's the laird of my heart.
the laird of my heart,
oh, he's the laird of my heart.
the laird of my heart,
oh, he's the laird of my heart.
over loch and great glen,
my heart I did send.
I gave him my time,
I thought he was mine.
the laird of my heart,
oh, he's the laird of my heart.
his love I held dear,
without any fear.
he left what he made,
his feeling did fade.
the laird of my heart,
oh, he's the laird of my heart.
now the loch holds my tears,
what will come of the years.
he owns my sad heart,
even if we're apart.
the laird of my heart,
oh, he's the laird of my heart.
the laird of my heart,
oh, he's the laird of my heart.
Valentine Hearts
 |
| Note: circa 1969. My sister added the 'A' and smiley faces. She graded my little book of poems as play. I love that I had to correct the spelling of 'Valentine.' Yeah, still making lots of spelling corrections 40 odd years later. |
gone
what good is gone when
I can still see, hear, call out.
what do I do.
stab myself in the eye
not to look at him no more.
jab cotton swabs in my ears
‘til they bleed so I don’t
hear his voice none.
chew so hard on my cud
I bite my tongue off.
I don’t want this big pain.
I want jabs. jabs. jabs.
like lightening in a summer sky.
intermittent. electric.
or maybe better, a left hook.
blunt force trauma
that would take me out.
the fly
I would like to be
the fly on the
wall
when you tell
yourself your secrets
do you lie
embellish
make believe that
you’re someone else
somewhere else
we all have our
sense of who we are
but it’s rather different
than what others see
I would like to be
the fly on the
wall
when you tell
yourself your secrets
do you lie
embellish
make believe that
you’re someone else
somewhere else
you don’t see your best
you stick on a stereotype
that becomes you
but isn’t, quite
representational
I would like to be
the fly on the
wall
when you tell
yourself your secrets
do you lie
embellish
make believe that
you’re someone else
somewhere else
it isn’t any different
than how you look
for what’s worse in others
not seeing them
helps you not
to look at yourself.
in the end what will the fly
see
a fine line
a line
fine in length
point a to b
sloped
y-intercepted
independent
set of points
linear
equation
the only thing
it isn’t
is a direct line to you
is a direct line to you
the only thing
it isn’t
linear
equation
set of
points
independent
y-intercepted
sloped point a to b
fine in length
a line
a line
fine in length
point a to b
sloped
y-intercepted
independent
set of points
linear equation
the only thing it isn’t
is a direct line to you
is a direct line to you
the only thing it isn’t
linear equation
set of points
independent
y-intercepted
sloped
point a to b
fine in length
a line
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