Everyday
At least one prayer comes out as a flame.
Syllables sip saliva and slide out
Under the breath of your name,
Untranslated, but slated for repetition,
saying something to me,
Saying something to be
beyond a doubt
more than a mutter.
This slyabic stutter that won’t go out
gives way to every day
speaking more of you.
Magnetic Letters
Movable markings are torn asunder
Unstuck and stuck on a wall of wonder
That locks-in the winter air, cooling the juice.
While outside there’s a magnetic truce
That’s being unwritten
By kids smitten
With letter groupings that show
Kid-words that grown-ups don’t know.
Behind the Vine
I wonder at what you’ve left for me,
How did you know I’d be
Finding divinity
In how the tree and the vine combine?
How could you know I’d stop to see you there?
…I guess that’s why you’re everywhere.
I’ve recently fallen in love with photography again. So I’ll be posting more pictures here.
Shooting Windmills
It’s time to chase windmills
From the window sills of stills
That pass through glass.
It’s time for a new lens on life that shows
More than a picture knows.
Shiny Technology
Brushed metal in waiting,
Stylistic sedating
Of a part of me that I’ve been holding
Inseparably before unfolding
You, who’s been twisting things around
About to let me fall to the ground
Or at least a piece of me
That’s caught in technology.
The Constant
I contemplate the changeover, but then
I leave the roll unchanged again.
An immutable constant that’s never unfurled
Next to an ever changing whirled
Of water cycling before it’s gone
By an empty roll left on
Its axle for another day
Of contemplating time away.
Business Proposal
It’s not that I wanted to kick you in the mouth
But our proposal was going south
As you bit off, and continuously chewed
Both of your feet as if they were food.
Unripened Avocado
The unripened Avocado locks Guacamole in its potential form.
I’m amazed that God didn’t make Guac the norm.
Perhaps a sort of Algae for the fish to eat,
floating on in ooze that turtles would meet
before learning ninjutsu from a rat.
Why wouldn’t God think of that?
Avocado Bandaid
It was too soon and now too late.
The unripened Avocado
Was slit with a knife
By my wife
Who then taped it shut
Thinking what if we wait
Allowing ripeness to take over and grow
Within our avocado?
Suburban Sunset
White siding changes to pink
In a sunset drink
To be consumed by the dark
Softening shadows that mark
The creeping line of night
Until, without a fight,
Shadow fades with light.
BonjourPoetry 