a little girl chose me from the crowded ground
she gave me a tiny flower
as her little sister sang a pop song about a universe
no doubt a gift from the great beyond
to wash away the midnight in my heart
crowded ground
Eugi’s Weekly Challenge
finally relieved
my sister later said
that when mother left
the tears on her velvet cheeks
were like lily petals
time has passed
on most days when
i notice myself in the mirror
memories of her voice and sorrow
crowds my day
by eve’s time
sitting alone on the porch
some plump flying angel
will rustle up the honey suckle
and a vision of mother i can feel
quiet resting finally relieved
his motor dies
in midnight stroll cool ocean roars 12 steps away
time clutches in between my thoughts i am unforgotten
sea salt on my lashes tips
flowers closed and snuggled away
my cold left ear catches a rift of a stray gull
every step approaches me as my thoughts are unforgotten
a childish smile caterpillars across my chin tucked under my achy hand
as i move on looking through chain link walls in hopes of finding sleep
then theres a clock his face is lined with human history
from the instant hes wound up to the moment his motor dies
we are unforgotten
legs are still by the sand dunes edge
a 7UP can glimmers
my cold fingers hidden beneath folded elbows
my chest fills up with moonlit air
to be alive at waters arms
to ponder on why i think Adam Duritz is the Robert Smith in Bennie and the Jets
is why alone with the night time thorns i remain unforgotten
dendrite and soma
the network of your arms
strong like a cedar tree
fingers from both of our hands
connecting transporting us
to those sinfully delicious places
our animal scents my sweet flavors
pony express urgently
via dendrite and soma
speeding messages between our hearts
mine located where a heart should be
yours more toward your mid center
cup o soup
the chill condenses
as when porridge does
and the tips of my fingers
begin to ache as if to crack
like when i used to pour vodka
on the giant designer ice cube
since i was little i liked corners
memories of life and how its come to be but hasn’t changed me
at an angle framed by brick weeds and piss the King Eddy has closed
window and door a silent rigor mortis
no more free drinks or musty teamster gropes
skid row catches the eye
twilight lives here day or night
but at times it shimmers
like when a man sings a new song
like when i can afford
to tip him five dollars
i like the twilight i feel
and when she staggers to me
and tells me her story
i think that all of us here are missing some teeth
that justice is served
that in this twilight here
Lennon’s imagination
is clear
we are all important because of our story
our statistics aren’t of value
in the twilight of these years
we are one
and we can all use a cup o soup
the other stars
at night with the party of stars
the stars in the sky i mean
i sit in quiet tender happiness
on the summer eve sidewalk of Sunset and Vine
my eyes scan the shoes
some old some new
there is history in the step
some style some regrets
at night when traffic dies
buses groan and open their doors
warm freon stink hisses
no one exits they just sit
my hands play
with blue Bic pens and loose sheets
their surface wrinkled tears
happiness of simple truths recorded there
at dawn barley curtains fall
the stars have took their bows
coffee’s bitter cocoa moan
stirs my knees and center
in the newness of the old city yawn
where i died lived and was born
onto this place where my soul has soaked in this world is my happiness
prodigal tanka
*to Rob
nature in your soul
the light in your heart brightens
frozen in the wind
in low valleys of my world
your blue starlight captures me
urban meadow blues
meadows i see on the packages in the lady business aisle of my regular supermarket
when i was young and high living the downtown life meadows were tucked twixt the words of John Fante
on crowded freeways i imagine meadows green with polka dot flowers instead of beer bottles and trash
i too have stood on meadows ignoring reality when news and accounts have been grim
on the meadows of my mind while i stand in line waiting for my time with the speed ticket money taker i swear i have been a Hopi princess
meadows in the park constructed from repurposed everything that underserves the very point of wild God created freeform and bear in mind your parking meter too
magic haiku
it
is
there
tucked
in
the
breath
under
the
heart
of
love’s
magic
embrace
dislocated ribs
there are bright yellow red hearted blossoms waving at the cars
trees screaming with a hundred demanding little birds cleansers of the earth after the war
telephone wires obselete and dead
wireless carriers facilitate what’s next
skies gloomy skin tanning albeit
here in my new home away
from the sores of tough living
my body moves more
still the pain gets stronger
wars can still reach me
the curse of gab from shallow tongues
remind me that i’m not enough
and that my fat rolls and brittle hair
are cause for alarm
not that our Mother is burning
i too am fragile to not cry
too salty
to not have the strength to soldier on
i’ve made an executive decision
today i’ll have no viewpoint
instead i will experiment with hummingbird nectar
and hope that they will come and partake
their wings without rest
their bodies steady in the air
thoughts scurry in my head
and the heart
hasn’t found her resting place
still lingers there
between dislocated ribs
for all times sake
words less spoken 