Another Day Behind Him

He drags in from work, clicks into her site
to read of her day, her every delight.
He thinks, Will she have me? Will she love me someday?
Please continue reading.

Helpless

Everyone deserves a poem, he said
not me, said she
and he laughed at her delusion

Five-O'Clock Tea

She called me to her lair for tea
purring, preening, she licks her sleeve
and looks with lost brown eyes to me.
She called me to her lair for tea.
I'm sure I must, I should, just flee.
I must make plans, plans to soon leave.
She called me to her lair for tea
purring, preening, she licks her sleeve.

JO's Blog

A Thousand Times Over

He sat and watched
as those black spots littered the ground
nearly red lines in the snow
and he ran through the greyscale maze
slipping through the shuffling calves
of a shuffling nation

Whisper

Whisper soft songs surround your face
with baby lace
lullaby dreams
innocence streams

Whose child is this white powder rose
in soft repose
More

Secrets

In secrets lie the bitter truth--
in secrets we all know.
The world, it keeps its secrets well
from all who dare to show.

Walking Through Wearing Black

Walking through wearing black
I've grown accustomed to this place.
The walls are dim
neutralizing
and the ambient light grayer still.
I add to it,
gladly spreading misery.

...more

High-rise Huckster

He put his name on towers tall
for everyone to see.
Bribed politicians, every one
from penthouse luxury.

three poems

I'm just reposting this with the missing link to her poetry. It's certainly worth checking out.

when I got home last night
there were three poems
in my pocket...

three poems

when I got home last night
there were three poems
in my pocket...

Bazaar

I’ve traded my dreams
for these poems of mine
It’s getting harder to see without sleep
But when I turn off the world
it’s the nightmares I mind
They’re worth nothing, nothing

Pirate Muncher

Beware the Pirate Muncher
as you sail to your atoll.
The island may be your's to claim more...

To Evie

On the baking, rattling, blasting oven,

Following silver ribbons from Notting Hill Gate,

Watching darting eyes and suspicious faces,

Studying crossed legs, folded papers, clicking fingers, [more]

Posterity

The Bard once told me,
in a dream of a dream,
Some butterflies are easily confused
for passing genius
and Socrates was a fool
for trusting that hemlock
would get the job done

Life Maximus

Surf exuberant
dancing pie-in-the-sky dreams
jockeying water
knowing the unknowable
spying beyond today's shores.

JO's Blog

Sunbursts

The universe is full of colorful folds
which I’m seeing with my mind for the first time.
Pinpoints of light constellate into nebulous wonder,
every neuron a moment of liquid thought

When I watch you

Can you feel the sun

Shining so brightly

The trees swaying

And the city flowing? [more]

Word Catalyst pays tribute to 9/11

Word Catalyst Magazine will be publishing a tribute to 9/11 in our September issue. It was, and still is a very emotional subject for most of us but it is also one we must never forget. If you would like to add your voice to the tribute please send your submissions to editor@wordcatalystmagazine.com by August 15th for consideration.

Sunday morning at Angel station

I thought I saw you on a train today,

Standing patiently by the door

As the carriages slowly slid by. [more]

Clever Cleavers

Clever cleavers lie in wait
your fate, they only know
for clever cleavers don’t hesitate
come time to strike a blow.

Living in the Blur Between Lucid Dreams and a Slipshod Reality

slapping you silly
with my severed mobility
you gawk at awkward engravings
the oscillations of a lost society

Links To The Future

In a city of embers, underground.
they will escape the dreaded skyhooks
and the stealth bombers
flying silent through darkened skies...
Please continue reading.

Intercity To Amsterdam

Empty minded I stare into the distance the beauty of the scenery whisks by while the light wobbling entire poem

Crying For Parking

It's hard earning your living," the meter said,
"with a pole stuck up your butt. Continue reading...

The Mob

People dashing, fluttering leaves
wasting in trees
branches askew
displaced anew

Confusion-driven winds of doubt
chaotic bout ... More

Reverie

gravity can’t hold you
when the world’s in your fist
and people can’t bind you
when lyrical providence
is on your side
and your eyes burn
and your tortured soul is ready

Drunk Monkeys

Drunk monkeys turned over the outhouse.
Drunk monkeys have taken the farm.
They burned all the hay, plowed the fields the wrong way,
and caused the whole county alarm!

Drunk monkeys got in to my hen house,
choked chickens until they were dry,
and if you think you’ve seen a really bad dream,
watch monkeys when they get too high.

Untimely

There’s only one hole
in the ground for every man.
My basement scares me

Did you ever stop to wonder?

Living emptily is easy, you say:

It's the only way to know yourself.

And yet to crave to make the lie,

Melt into an embracing heart. [more]

Summer's Heart

July, you're a woman
Long in love, strong in light...
more

The Way

Tin cans and rubber bands,
what do they have in common?
Rusty nails and shotgun shells, more...

Carpentry

I saw the whole world naked
I never thought I’d see it break apart
Without your hands over my ears
I cannot ignore the rending of my heart

because whenever I was blinded
you would find a way to make me see the light
and today I’m feeling broken
so won’t you please just make everything alright?

Car Koan

Father/Son road trip Seven hundred miles each way Tom and Huck redux

A New Blogsboro Feature: 15MinutePoet.com

I don't know why I never thought of this before. While I wish I could do it every day I sometimes find the job of searching out obscure blogging poets to be too time consuming but I'm not about to give up.

That's why I'm asking you to join me in giving each poet I feature their very own 15 minutes of fame. Continue reading.

Jeff Mangum

he discovered that he didn’t need
to repeat the masterpiece
and that like everyone else
he simply was
and eventually
he was not

Blue Lake Rhapsody

Kings and Queens of lake waters blue
insouciant fanning display
splendid colors, every hue
among grasses green, ducks at play
fluttering quackers, sunny day
quick steps like elegant dancers
water music, nature ballet
winds strumming in violin streams.

JO's Blog

A Day Like Today

I imagine that on a day like today when the sun shines early and the sky's a spotless blue while warm winds thicken the air with heat and dust and temperature gets clothes sticking hot it'll be a good day for me to let go For on such a day when no one seems to be in a hurry and hours pass notably slow I guess the reaper can take his time too maybe even show me some special kindness and let me pick a nice moment myself Maybe then I'd choose to go when children's laughter and splish-splash from their cooling pools come in from neighbouring gardens drowning out the womens chit-chat over iced teas and turkey sandwiches while I picture myself amongst them with my own dear little ones Or maybe I'd wait for ... entire poem

Saving Energy

Conservation, that's the word
though some might think it quite absurd.
It's a mystery, it seems to me
that every thing we need's not free.
It cost too much to drive my car,
heat my water, start a fire.
The cost of groceries, mostly fuel,
Please continue reading.

Poetry Challenge #2 at Be Not Inhospitable To Strangers

A Bukowski inspired poetry challenge--click here

Paper Clips

In the end, it came down to the tangle of paper clips that I am sorting into piles. more

Musical

Musical
bird chatter ribbons
wrap around me with lace bows
capturing my finely spun heart beats,
scattering them to and fro
across sparkling fields
like gum drops.

JO's Blog

Easy

It is hard to find people With whom it is easy to be

Love Letters

She read his letters-- every one.
She even told him so.
But in silence did her volumes speak
of the things he longed to know.
He admitted insecurities,
made clear to her his flaws,
secrets only she could know
and every bitter fall.

Before Storms

Before storms
a man stands alone
hiding deep in musings black
waiting for thunderous roars before
stepping back with eyes cast down.
Trouble knows his name
and speaks it.

JO's Blog

Hope you're happy now

Meet me down the back way

Where the lights don't shine

Bring your nursing agonies

And your fetid, stupid hate [more]

Where Are They Now?

Where are all the hippy chics
from back in the Summer of Love?
And where are all the activists
who used to push and shove

Animals

Wide eyes
surrounded by
steps of grace, cry of wild,
God's beauty in animal's gaze,
pristine.

JO's Blog

Striking The Capitol Steps!

"Strike, strike!" the meters cry,
"It's time we got our shake.
No more will we be cheated.
We want the market rate.
Read the poem inspired by the Washington Post

5th Avenue Philosopher

Chalk on the sidewalk
A quiet proclamation

The Talk

Sandy beach drowned in soaking sun
mother-daughter summertime fun.
Flowered bonnets belying gloom,
mother-daughter impending doom.
Before daughter speaks, mother's won.

No ruby lips, no ankle shows.
You're much too young for all of those.
Read more...

Truth And Consequences

Never a lie...
I told her the truth-- every word--
no omissions would go unheard.
The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
and when I could I offered proof.

Crumple

all men must die
she said to me
but perhaps, just this once
we won’t mind

A.D. Winans Interview

Read at Be Not Inhospitable to Strangers

The Fourth Of July Poem by A.D. Winans

Stop in Be Not Inhospitable to Strangers and read the work of a small press legend. A.D. Winans sent in a poem--The Fourth of July Poem

Watson Retires

Always back-seat driving, poor Watson. Not a more...

Summer rain

Rain danced on the pavements,

And wind caressed the trees.

Pigeons fought on railings,

And umbrellas jounced along. [more]

Alone In My Room

It's quiet in here.
I'm all alone.
The time, it passes
but is never gone.
These many words
I long to say

Midlife Reflections Midday on a June Road 6/28

It is midpoint between day and night

In the still quietude of June afternoon

Two seasons have passed

Two seasons to go

My Dreams

My dreams

soar high like crows

flee angry gnarled branches

twisted and torn by restless winds

of truth.

JO's Blog