I don't know

 "We had the first run-through on this stage, and I felt so good. I ran upstairs to the dressing room, and my first thought was, 'I've got to call Rob'... I don't know if I want that to keep happening or I do want it to keep happening." -Billy Crystal on the Death of Rob Reiner People Magazine

Ingenuity

Genius
Pierced a hole
In my heart
 
Ingénue
Filled the void
With golden jewels
 
Humors
Replaced pain with
The need to pain
 
Genuine
Stoned comforted
Distraction until
 
Curiosity
Asked why stop
At ingenuity?

Day Off

 

Kitten

 

Kittens with Milk

Perhaps as a
Little lady
I found compassion
With the kittens
 
On the farm- like
Baby Jesus, warmed
In the manger
By blankets of straw
 
Perhaps I found
Pearls of beaded
Cows milk on
Kittens’ whiskers
 
Unpasteurized like
My Grandmother and
I am her age, now
With softer skin
 
Her dried hands
Fed the kittens
With milk, poured into
Margarine containers-
 
Containers collected
In the memory of
Depression.
Waste not want not
 
I had the depression
And no one understood
So, I sat on a bales of straw
Counting kittens
 
I left the farm
To a place of
Higher learning
To play Shakespeare
 

Wasted and unwanted
My life sealed andLabeled: 
I can’t believe
It’s not married.
 
Later, I took kittens
To my grandmother
Beneath my over coat
A photo in my pocket
 
You like cats
Like I do, she said
Instead of; what no
Great grand children
 
Perhaps, as her ashes
Were tossed into the sky
Caught by the hand
Of adult Jesus
 
I found nourishment
In the emptiness of
Her hand denied to me
As she fed kittens with milk.

Nope

And what is your favorite colour

Nope, she answers; Nope.

 

She lives differently

And doesn’t answer to

 

You to your silliness

Boundaries up

 

We teach our children to respect no

To say no, and she begins

 

Nope: to questions like

Favorite colour

 

What do you want to be

When you grow up

 

Nope

And I accept

 

 

Mr. Daisy

He loves me?
He loves me…
Not.
 
Young children
Pull petals from
My daisies.
 
Squealing in
The garden of
My passion…
 
We all
Scatter like
Feathers
 
Grounded by
Journeys own
Deception.
 
Not if he
Loves me, he
Loves me, not:
 
But do you feel
Something for me…
Mr. Daisy?
 
So, naked, so
Much certain
Uncertainty-
 
That love is
Also, I love
Him not…
 

One of Those Moments

 

By The Bridge, Water

Weep

Weep, Weep

Little red bird

Little rose bud

Flowerless on a hedge 

Frozen tears

Little blue bird

Passing over time 

Clear skies on cloudy days

A paper cut

Little black bird 

Tips your red wings

Bleeding like my heart

A coo, A coup 

Little white dove 

Beneath the willow 

Crying out for silence

Sometimes, it slips

Clipped wings grow

As minds forget

We could ever fly

Yes, Thank Goodness