Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Bearing Witness

Tone
more than words
mixed with grunts and labored breathing
is thrust upon a teenage son
too busy nursing bottled water to help fold a mound of clothes.

A father's face wet with effort
turns puce
as the drink is drained
and the boy fishes for money to buy another bottle.

[written 7/23/17]


Dissed By Dryer

The machine did not want my change
so I changed machines
but this one won't spin...
Closing my eyes,
I breathe--
reminding myself
that I have survived much greater rejection.

[written 7/9/17]


Surviving the Butterfly

Shooting from the hip,
I have flown by the seat of my pants
for far too long.
Now, given a moment to ground,
I keep checking my feet
for quicksand.

[written 7/9/17]


Teleporting

The sound of tires on asphalt
with little effort
transforms into waves on the shore.
A motorcycle hum
metamorphosizes into an outboard motor
as imagination conjures the cry
of a laughing gull.

For a few fleeting moments
an Allentown parking lot
captures Cape May.

[written 7/9/17]


An Einstein Moment

Eyes closed
sitting in sunshine,
I find inspiration as priorities shift like paradigms,
finally full realizing
everything is relative.

[written 5/28/17]


Cycling Wash

Two weeks and a day ago
the call came
as I sat in this laundrymat
watching clothes spin.

Sixteen days of wheels turning on the PA turnpike,
of doctors and nurses
and pharmacists and therapists;
of terror
and relief
and exhaustion.

Knowing he is at home
resting with a new liver,
I sit here again
watching clothes spin
and praying my phone doesn't ring.

[written 5/21/17]


While Waiting

The woman sitting next to me is texting
and it sounds like an energy chime.
With each notification
my mind turns toward an inner temple
and a yearning for peace.

Startled by a touch on my arm,
I jump as she smiles and shows me the message:
"Stupid people should just shut up."

The temple shatters
and I think...
maybe they shouldn't text either...


[written 6/27/17]


Yet Another Panic Attack...

Fiendishly
Erroneous
Apprehension
Returns


[poetry form: acrostic - written 6/19/17]


HUP

Ten
days
sitting
in one room...
Grateful for the care
but wanting for some sun and air.
With sunlit leaves, the tree outside beconds an escape
pleading with me to lite my mind
upon its branches--
to breathe in,
let go,
be
home.

[poetry form: Fibonacci - written at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania 5/16/17]


Reus

mea culpa
   There is dust on the journal.
mea culpa
   The ink has congealed.
mea culpa
   Promises made from the self to the Self
   not yet broken
      but strained
   and I fail to wrench the flail from my hand...

mea culpa
mea culpa
mea maxima culpa

[written 4/4/17]