Just Poems: The World

Love

I never met a dog I didn’t love...

There are dog scoundrels.
There are dog clowns.
There are dog queens.
There are dog drag queens.
There are dog elitists.
There are dog hippies.

But I never met a dog I didn’t love…
Right away.

It’s hard to love people,
The way it’s easy to love dogs.

Ugly Dogs

Ugly Dogs!
I freaking love ugly dogs!
I love them!

Bilateral symmetry
Kiss his:
Ugly-pugly-fugly-mugly.

Pinch his (How many?)
Chins. (How many?!)
Wonderful!

I freaking love:
Happy! Joyous!
Ugly-Ugly-Ugly

Dog snores from the couch.
Lazy eye lounges
Leers at the front door…

Soon the pizza will arrive.
Hope he gets some crust
With bubbles on it.

God’s Grace is an ugly dog’s face,
Crooked teeth sunk in bubbles on crust
Made just right for an ugly dog.

The Itch

There was a dog named Abe I did see,
Who stood under a tree for a wee.
He met there a bitch,
Who had quite the itch,
So they danced in the style doggie.

The Firs

I’m not ready for everything to die this year.
The wind is consistently strong the past few days.
The people who come from all parts of the world
To see our leaves change color are leaving.

The ground is a sheet of wax paper
Under a blood-let easel.

The firs will hold on.

The dust on the radiator floor vent
Burns from the steamed air forced,
From the hidden hot water
Onto the dead fly that won’t rot.

The firs will hold on.
Through the season of dying,

They don’t.

The refrigerator drones over the fly’s last
Protest as it falls to the faded floor.

The fan above the microwave still hums,
A little more dust, a little more hum,

But it still hums.

The firs weep weary,
Waist deep in wasting.

If you sit still, close
Your eyes and listen,

You can hear electricity
Go into the lights.

If you lie back, close
Your eyes and surrender,

You can feel
The Earth spin.

Winter's freeze freezes.
Spring's flower flowers.
Summer's swelter swelters.
Fall,
Leaves
Fanfare.

Leaves
Fall,
Fanfare.

Fanfare,
Leaves
Fall.

The Season's end
Ends The Season's
Season's end.

Words fail
Watching
Words fail.

Words

Freeze,
Flower,
Swelter,

Fall.

Melancholy mothers nature.
New England fathers poets.

Days you shut the door
And the hard frost won’t leave,

Days you open the door
And the fever lingers,

That dead fly that won’t rot.

There’s only:

Wasting time.
Watching time.
Watching
Firs.

Wait out the:
Inconsiderate
Sun.

Who won’t confess his light,
No matter what I say.

Scroll Down and Forget 'em

Snow last night.

Treetops
Rooftops

Road signs
Topped

Powder sugared
Magnificent.

Why scrub away Autumn's mess?
Let it soak.

Snow like scrubbing bubbles,
When they melt the mess goes with them.

Some metaphors stink.
Some similes are like scrubbing bubbles,

To do their best work,
Let them sit a bit.

Scroll down and forget 'em.
Come back when you can see clear,

What shines under the sludge,
What Springs Eternal.

Home

What about the tree that made the Cross that Jesus bore?

What about such a light, on the field,
That was seen, that was His dream then?

Such a light on a tree alight some yesterday,
So far away from so far away from some yesterday.

No today, know today.
Not a light, no, not at all.

What about this staircase,
About these clouds,
About this sky-break?

What about this day,
About this hour,
About this time

That tree
His tree, wept razed?

And the clock was.
-This-
And the time was.

And The Sun was.
-That-
And The Moon was.

And The Tides were.
-This-
And The Stars were.

And The Day of
-Him-
And The Month of
-His-

And The Year of Time.

And The Weather.
And This Weather.

And the pattern of clouds.

(What was that?)that light
(What was that?) that which moved
(What did not move?) that was seen,
(What was not seen?)but was announced.

There was The Wind, that was The Air
That didn’t breathe, but burst

Open a quiet sky,
The Quiet Sky gone incandescent

For a holy way,
The Holy Way,

His New Way,
His Chosen Only Way,

Home.

For Reason, Et Al.

Enough of the words
What of those out-
Spoken or Spoke-in?

In-way words
Never in-the-way words
Always want back out words.

On outward words
On sail to the sky
Said and sailed words

When the only cry
Heard was the deep deep
Down inside cry.

How to cry!

Without wells and rainbows
To mark mistaken tears
With forsook ancient words?

The sky’s reign- hit
So hard so what
Else could be said?

Stunned-In
Such awe from
A hand so divine.

What word...
How could…
What…?

We called it God.
We call it God.
We still cry awe

For no reason at all.

We still call it.
Still say it.
Still cry out...

God.