Shadow Art--15.4

Tall black silhouettes

mirror serious imprint

sandy exposure.

Therapy 15-3

Up at seven
I pull on my swimsuit and head out the door
ready to tackle the group.
Armed with advice and witticism
our conversation like the bright morning sun
is circular
our walk
mired in the tide pools
of rationale and comfort zones.

The old thread that ties us together
is strong
a crocheted blanket dragged from birth
pacifying our discontent
deflecting our resolve.
repeating the sequence each morning
unable to decipher the combination
digging up ancient history
wanting in
unable to find
the entrance
blocked from my view.

Eric-Acrostic 15-2

E-Z Does It at 41,
Ready to party and have some fun
Italian pizza piping hot and
Chocolate ice-cream hits the spot.



Happy Birthday!!!

Meet Me in Maine 15-1

Meet me in Maine

by the shore
I’ll watch the birds
learn some words
hoot and holler
leave some dollars

vacationing with family.

And forget about
writing poems
the rhymes will keep
till I get home
and dig my toes
into the sand
hanging loose
getting tanned

It’s time to go
eat lobster rolls
and for a stroll
then play some cards
and have some laughs
for time sure flies
and that’s a fact.

Unlocking Memory

Witnesses flood perceptions door
banging to get in
plagued by
an impermeable strain
of
dementia
distorted
and dissected into
quantum realities
as facades crack
and begin their
ascent
gasping for air
fearing the vacuum
housed inside their
glass containers.

Time Traveler

Driving back
into a dark overgrown jungle
pushing past awkward and wild

to where the truth lies

rooted deep

impassive
like a tall oak
cooling me
from the blistering sun
as leaves begin to fall away and
expose old scabs
piling offerings
damp mounds
dormant and unruffled
waiting for a familiar face to
burn them on the alter
and appease the gods
applying the salve
soothing the ache
that gnaws
like a fungus
mushrooming
white circles on the lawn.

Breaking the Fast

Piping hot coffee warms
my innards
cozy
inside a moss green mug.

Juicy blueberries burst
pushing against
orange cantaloupe
swimming inside a
slippery pool
vying for my attention
tempting me sweetly
from the second shelf
next to a muscled Greek
packing extra protein
blinking
his vanilla honey code.

Kornelia with a K

Kornelia with a K

sat next to me last night on the flight
from Honolulu
but that’s wasn’t all
Kornelia liked to be called Konnie
I had to ask her twice, to be polite
did I hear it right

Konnie with a K?
yes she said, that was right
Kornelia was German
spoke with an accent
her family
originated in that land
where they made the kielbasa

but that’s not all

Kornelia loved living in Hawaii
but it was time for her to go
back to Germany
back to her family
back to school
she’s no fool
Kornelia will be back some day
to the land that paved the way
so send an email, drop me a line
keep in touch for you won’t find
many of us in economy class
so plant your behind, listen up
Cornelia is coming from the back of the plane
and Cornelia, dear sisters, is unrestrained.

Bake, Bake a Cake!

An old German Nursery Rhyme in German and English with a Haiku at the bottom.

“Backe, backe kuchen!”
der Backer hat gerufen
“Wer will guten kuchen backen
Der muss haben sieben Sachen:
Butter und Saltz,
Zucker und Schmaltz,
Milch und Mehl,
Und Eier machen den Kuchen gel.”

“Bake, Bake a cake!”
the Baker called out.
“Whoever wants to make
a good cake,
He must have seven things:
Butter and Salt,
Sugar and Lard,
Milk and Flour,
and Eggs to make the cake gold.”

German rhyme calls back

Happy childhood memories

Bitte, Deutsch sprechen!

(kindly speak German)

Ready to Go

All packed
Breathe deeply
Check list
Determine objective
Early on
Freedom earned
Goals accomplished
Heady thoughts
Ignite memory
Jump high
Kick habits
Leave anchors
Manage choices
Need little
Open up
Pop pretense
Question everything
Resolve approval
Speak clearly
Tackle doubts
Use resources
Value judgment
Work hard
X-ray attitude
Yield for no one
Zealous stance.

Wonder Bread and Klingons

We grew up in a quiet town surrounded by four lakes;
sometimes we'd go hiking and swimming at the fourth lake,
since it was a short walk from the railroad tracks,
halfway between my house
and my cousin Ralph’s
just before the town dump.

Mid summer
the urge to explore
strange new trails became strong,
Captain Kirk and
Mr. Spock were my heroes.
Ralph and I would
set our phazers on stun
and dare to encounter
alien life forms.
it was quiet
except for the odd branch
falling or when our shoes crunched
on a dry patch of leaves,
occasionally a snake would cross our path,
but Ralph would always arm us
with a cap gun
or a long stick with a sharp point
on one end to protect us.

The favorite part
would be lunch,
my chubby cousin
always made sure
that we had plenty to eat.
Being a skinny child,
I was more interested
in the possibility of
running into some
Romulans or Klingons
but when the food appeared
I would inhale it.

One favorite, when my Aunt ran out of bologna and cheese
was cherry koolaide accompanied by
wonder bread and white sugar sandwiches,
the grit of the white sugar
against our teeth put us into orbit
and I would lick the sugar
and let it dissolve
slowly on the tip of my tongue
after showing my
cousin,
who had an annoying habit
of teasing me
for no reason.

Sometimes I would daydream
of him falling down
and breaking a leg
and then I would have to save him
and he would be eternally grateful
and never tease me again, of course
I would have to let him lie there helpless and in pain
for a very long time before I came back,
and risk running into aliens and bears just to teach him a lesson.

The Rose

On a dusty August night in 1974 a rebel rode into the Town of Rosendale in Ulster County, New York on his 750 chopped Honda the chrome was polished and the sissy bar gleaming,

as he parked in front of The Well, where he met Billie Ghoulie, the unofficial mayor who
owned and bartended there. Billie was freakish in his top hat, black cape, and skin tight jeans
but had found his niche and calling. Billie also owned the Astoria, the only hotel in town. The Well had a good reputation and you could find well-known bands like Three Dog Night jamming to “Jeremiah was a Bullfrog” on a Saturday night.
That first night he met and befriended a man named Dirty John and his wife Sue.
Dirty John’s Everything Shop housed both him and that Honda for the next few months
as he quickly made his way through the local town
produce, squeezing and partaking of all the fresh melons
passing on the Astoria—full up for the Labor Day holiday.
Of course, she didn’t know that yet, a good girl, Cheryl was barely out of high school.
Sue had whispered about him
the way he shined like a new copper penny.
He had called her pretty lady, that first night they met
fresh from a hot bath, he didn’t know
he had swept her away
smelling that way.
Not until much later did he recall
that he had stolen
the Rose out of Rosendale.

Self-Loathing

Bruxism


that's what they called it

grinding her teeth

at night while she slept

only one of the nasty habits

she'd picked up

the main reason

she still needed

to unlock those damned doors



Her subconscious

still directing

the plot

tangled

inside a sixties B movie



protecting her

by hiding

the truth

redirecting

her thoughts

leading her

towards the light

but the dark

still beckoned

leaving a slick stain

beneath the sheets

of her memory

like unwashed skin

exuding its distinct odor

she had to find the key

she had to let go of the ring.

Defiance

How does this sound for the prologue of my new book?


She’s thought about it
way too long
anger simmering
like pasta writhing
in boiling water,
only she doesn’t soften.
Lingering in the old pot
as she plots and
plans her escape.
The final details
appearing as foam
on a briny bank.

One last thing
before she departs
into the unknown
a card
to a loved one
with
unconditional
instructions.

The Human Equation

We are a speck
 in the grand scheme
of the universe
ignorant and
full of hot air
waiting for Mars to appear in the night sky

billions of tiny pulses of energy
lowered to their least common denominator
like lightning bugs in a glass jar

Studied from space
like a lab experiment
impatient for the resolution
for a brilliant scientist
to discover the true meaning
behind the meaning

Or are we mere child’s play?

Is it all an illusion

Is our splinter of hope

Fool’s gold

Will we try to use it
to feed
the hungry
cure cancer

What is it about the moon?

Dare we recall
or is it better this way

GOD

If you do exist
have some pity
on us
we still don’t know why
we are here?

Waiting for Dawn

I can see the flushed pink
across the bay as I
wait for the glow, focused
as I envision an orange rim
cresting over white pillows
flanked by a Pirate’s
Black Pearl.
And as my
mind lusts for its
buried treasure
hidden
in the east.

Black Pearl

Aye-- that be the Pearl
Savvy Captain Jack Sparrow
at your service, mate.

Cookie Cutter Shark

*** photo courtesy of photobucket



Cookie cutter shark
Round suctorial lips gouge
Stealthy sacrifice.

Captain Tommy D. and 160 lb. Ahi

CONNIE

C--  autiously
O--  ptimistic
N--  ervy
N--  erd
I--    ncites
E--   nthusiasm