Adelia was bedeviled
by the deal she got from me
she was bedeviled by the things
that she could feel but could not see
not that I was near
my dear Adelia when she died
the preacher said she left
us here to be with Jesus Christ
they buried dear Adelia
in a grove upon a hill
I visit it and sit
with dear Adelia still
she’s gone to be with Jesus
unbedeviled, no more fear
of unheard voices, unclear thoughts
at peace Adelia dear
toss it out
make some room
for new memories
ain’t no reason
to be hangin’ on
to what there
ain’t no need for
give a fond
remembrance now
and put it
in the trash
no yard sale stuff
that only crowds
some other person’s peace
some other’s mental space
jus’ toss it out
an’ move on . . .
words are plentiful
words are like dust
words are everywhere
you say words to me
in turn, words form
in my head but
are these the words
you spoke – or
some other words
I think I got it right
the words, that is
the words I think I
heard you speak
certainly there are
lots and lots of words
they are like dust
did you speak words
to me? or did I
form them myself?
I cannot understand
the words when you
shout at me nor
when you mumble
She was a witness to disaster
And emotional upheaval
She’d seen families that were torn apart
And in economic despair
There were carnal violations
There was blood upon the easel
But she didn’t seem to notice
Or she didn’t seem to care
You said happiness is a puzzle
Some unworkable conundrum
And life is never really that
What life appears to be
Love and hate and in between
Sorrow, joy or boredom
We’ll not project the paladin
And not impose our sympathy
I was sitting in a diner
You were right across the table
I was drinking coffee
You were busy with your phone
I asked if you were happy
You didn’t even answer
I thought I caught a smile from you
But I could never know
And though I walk these fields alone
I want only to be gone
I think I hear you call my name
I think you seem so far away
And while the summer breezes blow
From seeds the roots begin to grow
I think of you
But you’re so far away
Take the passions from my past
They cloud the present story
The good times fade – the bad times last
And keep us from the glory of our lives
And though I walk this field alone
And wishing only to be gone
I think the world is still the same
I think you’re still so far away
And while the summer breezes blow
I know we reap the crops we sow
Regret the bargains that
We cut so long ago
Take the passions from my past
They cloud the present story
The good times fade – the bad times last
And keep us from the glory of our lives
We know that
Everybody has one
And we all make excuses
Every single person has
An evil friend
We also know
The day is long
And, too, the night is short
How can we ever live without
Our evil friend
We do things
That we should not do
We don’t do things we should
We struggle yet accommodate
That evil friend
We rarely challenge
And sometimes, too
We all become
Some other’s
Evil friend
‘Cause we all know that
Everybody has one
Why? We don’t quite know
But every single person has
An evil friend
i once was as the morning
breaking through the night
and singing like the sun
i never reached the mid-day
never noon
my sunset rests
on someone’s dark horizon
go ahead and light those matches
you can burn them all and
all night long to keep from sleeping
short and quick
they’re tossed away
they’re only matches
i need a day
I got a wood burning kit for Christmas
one year, long ago
meant for searing names,
designs and numbers
This plug-in, electric art/craft wonder
occupied childhood time
now spent with computers
and video games
S.S. Kresge Five and Dime
sold trinkets and
affordable diversions
like birdhouse kits and bookends
And small plastic soldiers and dinosaurs
which, in early adolescence,
offered up their heads
to my wood burning kit
I kept Glenn’s bookends
the set he made for ma
with his kit many years before
they were pretty special
to ma and me
formed
in flutes
where candles flicker
waxy table tops and wooden chairs
silhouette in blue air
floats
our point of intersection
I saw your duplicate yesterday
She looked a lot like you
But she wasn’t really you
She wore the same shoes
as you, too
The ones you wear to work
Burden not the solitary equine
Willing servant, sumpter of e’erlasting woe
Tribulations tensed and thus so high-lined
Carry that which rightf’ly’s your own
Make not the son some candelabra stool
Nor husband tote contentment all and then
Nor daughter eat the sins of ancient fools
Nor wife protect the vanities of men
What share we may this blessed earth belong
To sing and dance as glad participants
To have and so be had in joyous song
The best of times we know shall never last
So burden not the solitary equine
For sorrow if it choose is only mine
When do my senses get caught up in fences?
When do my thoughts take a trip on their own?
All that I’ve wondered, the thoughts that I’ve pondered
All that I’ve seen, heard or touched all alone
My eyes see a stranger, my nose senses danger
But somehow I’m hearing the words of a friend
The air becomes cool as I sit on my bar stool
Playing another sad game of pretend
Sometimes we smell victory, sometimes a trick
Or follow your nose, move from where you are at
See all that is blue or look into the future
Hear what they’re saying up under their hat
What things seem to be, I often don’t see
Like feeling the fool when I’m winning respect
Or I thought I heard praise as their glasses were raised
But I’m not sure what next to expect
(I don’t trust that pat on the back)
I’ve watched while he preaches, I’ve heard all his speeches
I’ve read of this, that, and the other big deal
My thoughts are confused, is my voice being used?
Concerned about credence – and what I don’t feel
When do my senses get caught up in fences?
When do my thoughts take a trip on their own?
All that I’ve wondered, the thoughts that I’ve pondered
All that I’ve seen, heard or touched all alone