Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Just No Way

I had 10 squirrels at the feeder today,
Dapper in their gray and brown business suits;
Busily eating sunflower seeds.
They seem like 4 year old boys
Cute and intent
on what they want.
Selfish and charming
sitting on their haunches
tails tightly coiled
dark black eyes glinting
Energetic and yet
so vulnerable.
I buried one yesterday
who died likely crossing my street
for the same irresistible seeds.
There is no way to teach them
or even explain
or offer to hold their hands.
Paul A

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

And You Wish

When you love there is
Never a letting go,
No free and clear, oh no.
Circle round
And round again
Like a dark tattoo
It will fade
But not dissipate.
And the promise of pain
That connected you to love
On that first day
Will be there to the last.
It is what you get with the strong
It is what you get with the light.
It will buckle your knees
And suck out your breath,
And you’ll wish you had never…
Never had to let go.

Monday, November 7, 2011

I Sleep

I sleep most every night,
And you?
How odd and yet familiar:
A trip to a spa nocturnal
Heavenly or quite Infernal  
To meet up with that secret you
And randomly adventure too
Yet essential
Somewhat frightening
Or so enlightening
It’s somatic and dramatic
REM inducing and seducing  
Sexing and perplexing.
So are we doing a review or some
Overture preview?
Of a parallel existence
Or of death oh so persistent
And brother,
Which side of the bubble are we on?
Which side of the bubble are we on?

Friday, November 4, 2011

Manifested in Moments

She only knew me as a poet
No back story
No sidebar
No in way of explanation
Just the words of my mouth
And the meditations of my heart
And we both found that acceptable

I only knew her as a skier
And the strong hand that I held
And the knees with the scars
And the wind still in her hair
And a mountain out there
Where she had been so
Alive, and now so early deprived

We sat in the dull roar
With the ocean below
And watched a movie together
Without earphones
Adding the dialog
Making our own story
Offering our own interpretation

And then we let go
At the beginning of the end
A phone call or two
Did not satisfy
We both realized
It had only manifested in moments fleeting, flying
A half-life of an encounter
Very real
But now evaporated somewhere
High over the Pacific.