Ink in the Blood Posts

Forecast

Friday night

two-lane street

dot of lights

strung neath a sliver

window watch

fist of coins drop

in the slot

almost hear

the whirl

of the dryer

and there’s frost tonight

snow sometime

morrow

grab a buggy

hope the wheels

don’t stick

cross it off the list

and there’s a guy on the corner

of high traffic

and he’s mopping the floor

old school

as a young gun

pushes through double doors

hauling boxes of juice down the aisle

and he calls out to the guy with the mop

“Hey, Mr. Wire. How ya doing tonight.”

and he says, “Good.”

back and forth

and it’s gonna be a long night

from the look of things  

steady stream

in and out

and old Mr. Wire

he’s got nowhere

to go

but back and forth

TL

Take It

was it right

all the wrong

this little girl

over her shoulder

sees the dawn

and knows it now

what was right

what was wrong

take the blood

take the bones

take the heart

take the memory

but forget

the soul

for it moves on

and on and on and on

TL

Night Falls

and the stars

in the sky

look the same

cardboard box

or prison pane

multi estate

or backstreet alley

seafaring vessel

or locomotive ribbon

concert stage

or welfare line

boardroom

or bathroom

country road

or city street

mountaintop

or silent sea

cycle lane

or Harley hog

ringside

or bar side

football field

or distant knoll

courthouse clock

or vacant lot

treetop

or mud hole

third world

or Disney

hat

no hat

TL

Faith

the track they see

is open and free

if only they could run it

run it for me

 

the sky before night

is a palette of passion

if only they could see it

see it for me

 

the steel of a guitar

the depth of a sax

the weeping of a violin

the wave upon wave of lapping keys

the boom da boom da boom of dealing drums

if only they could hear it

hear it for me

 

the touch of a hand

barely a butterfly

like a baby’s breath

if only they could feel it

feel it for me

 

the kiss of the sun, the hold of the moon, the jewel of a star

the loss of leaves for greener ones

the high wind a distant breeze

the lilies of the valley say, “I do”

the dust of snow in your hair

the rain, the rain, the rain

the fog and the dew

the clouds of dust that show the road

the well with a wish at the bottom

the wheat in the field

the roots rising, the tiny plant punching up

the rocks of the river in surrender

the mountains shadowed and symbolic

and the prism turns up in a frown

and left you

a smile

bottle it for me

TL

 

Measured

at the light

a standard style truck

braked at the front

of the line

never saw the faces

just the backs

small forms of white

the smallest to the left

neither turned

nor talked

the sky gray-blue

the wind a memory

what was the necessity

packages or papers or property or prescriptions

ever it was

there was a purpose

a plan, a priority, a process

and at the appropriate speed

they went

about their way

TL

New Year

just a different

day

pain doesn’t up

and go away

whatever the struggle

it’s within

numb to most things

the heart hardens

harder to break

work the next day

and it’s just a job

less you love it

and the children laugh

and play

and the only ones

who really pay attention

are the old and gray

or the “no cures”

and the grass isn’t green

like when the stone was planted

and something happened

to that someone

for it to be that bad

and the wash is waiting

order up

“out with the old”

and it’s never new

was it all for naught

or did Thou

love Thee

deepest

in the dark

TL

Stranger

sitting in

a Chinese restaurant

waiting for

fortune cookies

and the cook comes out

his shirt wet

from washing

and chopping

and mopping

and woking

and he starts systematically

clearing away tables

and looks over at me

inquisitively

and asks, “what nationality”

automatic reply

predictable follow-up

automatic reply

“no, I don’t speak the language”

silence

then the look

pity … no family

then he looks at tiny

“is she your only”

automatic reply

predictable follow-up

automatic reply

“we’re talking about it”

silence

then he looks at me

“she will be lonely …”

nod my head

and look at the floor

and say,

“just don’t know

if I could ever

love another

as much”

he smiles

and says,

“it’s the same.

I have two girls,

and it’s the same love.”

silence

is it

TL

“White Christmas”

snow

and was

too tired

to care

barely there

to freeze frame

never felt

more adult

walked barefoot

in the cold

watched tiny

gobble gobs

looked up

at the moon

looming large

and lonesome

stood like a statue

like stone

the night

a chilled drink

should have

toasted it

instead

traded it

for a cup

of hot tea

TL

Lazenby

keep thinking

about him

out there

in that pasture

all alone

praying

his last

how he won’t

be there

Christmas morning

when his grandkids

undo the ribbon

how he won’t

get to taste all the treats

his wife made

or be there

to hear his kids talk

to ask ‘em how they’re doing

or to answer the doorbell

or the phone

or somebody’s wish

how he won’t

be driving around

in his truck

over the 2-lane bridge

on 2^nd Avenue

that maroon truck

his dog knew

so well

TL

Education

what is a world

where conformity

steals individuality

where the need to feel big

makes another feel small

where the jealousy

of school girls

sends another

out the door

where the power

to “fit in”

blurs the pane

and breaks the frame

where instant gratification

removes any inclination …

where the need for public attention

overshadows the best intention

where the likes and the dislikes

carry over

to the love and the hate

multiplied and divided

to total what

where what a girl wants

is altogether different

than what a boy wants

where lessons

are learned

and scores are settled

where the strong rise

and the weak get by

where the sensitivity of a boy

is mocked and ridiculed

and brought to bare

where looking good

means more

than feeling good

where concealed weapons

are not the only

cause for fear

and it really is the world

out there

just contained

in time

within stone walls

hidden in locker halls

and made visible

in the blank stare

of that boy

here

that girl

there

TL

One Down

dropped a dish

THUNDER CLAP

on tile

swept white shards

and lint-like specks

whole one second

shattered the next

trashed the pieces

and swept it over

not fine china

or heirloom sake

just a plain old plate

set of seven

used to be eight

TL

Christmas Tree

he said

he wasn’t

looking forward

to Christmas

this year

80 odd years

nearing 90

there must

have been

some great ones

somewhere

in all that

time

but met him

late in life

later still

used to be

a tree

they put up

each year

but there’s

no tree

blinking

in the window

this year

and hasn’t been

the last few

but he smiles

when he sees

tiny

and his eyes

blink

TL

View

cold like snow

and the vultures

come calling

round the

dead deer

on the side

of the road

and tiny

sees only

a bunch

of black birds

and wishes

she had

her camera

to take

their picture

TL

Memory

before she

knows

what love is

she colors it

red

before she

writes

a sentence

she scribbles

an EKG line

before she

says

a word

she’s taking in

the rays

how a raindrop

f    

    a

         l 

    l

    s

what the wind

can do

where snowflakes

go

how a candle

burns

how after a wish

the smoke

drifts

TL

Newborn

there were

two doves

cooing

in the backyard

that day

and we watched them

peck the ground

without a sound

as we swayed

side-to-side

like a tree

rocking

in the wind

TL

Sightseeing

the year’s

almost out

men and women

still in the field

somewhere

or in their homes

grieving for the loss

of something or someone

or on the street

looking for food

for shelter

for somebody

to see ‘em

someday

or filing papers

and fighting over custody

and everything else

or removed from their house

and taken somewhere

else

or losing their minds

their memory

their name

or standing in line

at a store

bagging presents

without purpose

or sitting in traffic

with the music on

with the music off

or reading a book

turning blank pages

or clicking on the tube

watching re-runs

or in the hospital

in the bed

out of the bed

or in the classroom

in the desk

at the front

at the back

or in the cube

surfing the net

eye on 5

or in the factory

punching cards

in and out

shifting gears

year to year

or behind bars

chained to their shame

or in court

handing down a sentence

for life

or in a fast-food joint

trying to stay sane

at the window

or behind a counter

scanning cans

living for a break

or at the liquor store

brown bag lunch

or at the register 

taking a carton down

stick relief

from what

or living with a diagnosis

cure

no cure

or trying to stay awake

in the rig

or sorting mail

picking up packages

putting them down

or at the switchboard

red light

green light

or in a dorm

and nothing matters

but passing

or in the park

sitting on a bench

with nothing to say

or grazing at the frig

trying to fill

some empty place

or sweating to the beat

trying to

stay young

or hooked on a feeling

meth, crack, weed

or wasting away

this

this very day

the year’s

almost out

TL

Little Light

like when

children sing

that kind

of goodness

and the bells do ring

and the street is empty

and the church is full

and the lights aglow

a Kinkade canvas

in the snow

and nobody’s hungry

or hurting

underneath the wreath

of a Christmas star

TL

“To Thine …”

suppose

that some

would never

face

themselves

in the mirror

far easier

to pretend

to lie and deceive

to not know what

you believe

for fear of losing

face

who you think

you are

but what is fear

but a room

you put yourself in

would that you want

to turn the key

and walk

on out the door

free

TL

The Garden

for umpteen years

Farmer Green

walked the rows

pickin’ out the weeds

so the good would grow

scheduled sprinklers

timed just right

then how the seeds

would sow

and fill the field

to die

and come back

again

that’s how

the wild flower

grew

it shown its face

one morn

to the waking sun

and caught

the farmer’s eye

and by and by

he delighted

in its budding

brilliance

so removed

this floral was

from the perfect patch

he knew

the one

just up the hill

he kept

behind a pristine

picket fence

to keep

the rabid rabbits out

and the red, red roses in

he tried

to do the same

to this foreign flower

for it had become

his heart’s desire

but the fence

he built

could not

withstand

the wind

or the will

of a single

stem

to die

and come back

again

TL

Aged

people with their faces

barren they come

barren they go

like a night

without stars

the clouds took

when once

not a patch

of shadow

did show

and full

was the face

that shone

a harvest moon

TL