Daily Litany

So that that old 

Orb the sun may sink to his knees 

In the end and share 

 

In our humility, poems are 

Offered in turn—who is it now

That hasn’t a prayer?

 

Unwavering Line Of Defense

What I have made 

Of myself, let others offer 

 

Judgement commensurate 

With the facts— 

 

All I can do in return is what 

I do best—demur. 

 

 

 

 

Revelations Of A Third Kind

Certain entities always 

Reveal themselves 

And make us feel right— 

 

Others prefer keeping to 

Dark, out-of-the-way places, 

And under certain circumstances, 

 

This too is all right— 

What’s wrong is never knowing 

When all that’s wrong appears 

 

To be dead right.

 

Writing Prompt Found Wanting

Start writing right off 

About a vivid childhood

 

Memory, don’t break 

Your lines or punctuate 

 

For at least five lines and see 

What happens; repeat 

 

One phrase at least 

Three times; continue writing 

 

To wherever the memory might 

Lead you, keeping in mind 

 

You may have to 

Do this several times before 

 

You end up writing 

Everything off, going on 

 

To bigger and better things 

Every time. 

 

 

 

The Pedestrian Spirit That Moves Us

When the last light 

Of the fire left 

In your eyes goes 

Out the window 

Of your domicile 

Like the proverbial 

Bird in flight, do not dawdle 

 

There in that earthbound 

Hearth of darkness, telling yourself 

You did all you could 

To avoid the worst when 

Deep down you know you were 

At best just one more docile, 

Accommodating guest— 

 

For Christ’s sake, 

You made your own bed, 

Didn’t you? Now, 

Go sleep in it. 

 

 

 

 

Unquenchable One

There are many

Reasons one chooses to write 

 

Poems, though in my book, 

The only one that holds much 

 

Water is the one that’s writ 

On the bottom of a bucket 

 

With a hole in it. 

 

 

 

Midst Mad Midsummer Air

most 

in 

 

dis 

creet 

 

ber 

serk 

 

ci 

ca 

 

das 

jack 

 

hammering 

the 

 

stifling 

heat 

 

in/to 

 

in 

dis 

 

crete 

 

                        p. 

 

                                    i.     

 

      e. 

 

                             c. 

 

                                          e. 

 

                          s. 

 

of 

re 

 

in 

forced 

 

con/\/\/\/\crete.