This circle of parapluies;
they are really for the Sol.
I totter avoiding their white-tipped points,
cruel burns waiting in the gaps between,
trying not to crush the not-yet-ground-to-sand shapes
devoid of creatures,
smooth and empty in their primes.
I'm living one of the lifes, certainly;
apple, peanutbutter and cheese,
book and phone,
blanket and computer
and all with the lovely fan escorting the air
past the sunlight.
You might have noticed I finally bought this domain! This website will continue to be about poetry and photography, but I'll be adding some sister sites; one will concern my legal contracting business, and the other one will be about protecting your chapbooks! I look forward to revealing these new sections to you and hope you'll find them useful.
June 11, 2015
I was scared it could be taken from me,
the usual passage of time life got busy got away from me excuse parade.
But the fuzz unfuzzed when I sat down at my fingers
to write something that mattered
so I mattered
and it can't be taken away from me
and that matters.
There once was a poet named Rachel
with a website she loved to update 'till
she became a lawyer
with a couple employers
and her free hours began to fill.
Don't worry, loyal readers; I'm not leaving or closing down my website. I just figured I'd update you; I'm working on a full-length poetry manuscript, I'm still writing and editing, and I'd definitely be down to perform for your audience if you run a poetry show it's not prohibitively expensive to get to. Let me know.
We passed the Semaphore on the way
and I always wanted to eat there but it closed
down to the dirt below a foundation ground and mixed
into rail-bed and intersection.
When I had no job I had to worry about getting one;
now I have one, I have to worry about losing it
but put my hair en ponytail just once
and the shape is ruined all day.
Hair is a language I never learned;
so is makeup. I went for olio/oleo instead,
letters each boxed up neatly but part of
at least one thing greater than themselves.
So Lauren Banka featured at the Portland Poetry Slam this past Sunday. Her books were $15 but I only had $2.10. Ms. Banka traded me her book in exchange for that $2.10 and a poem that expresses her essence/soul. See: below. The orange is quotes from the book.
Poem for Lauren Banka's Soul
(in exchange for her book You Don't Scare Me minus $2.10)
Can't pin me
nobody ever suspects...the butterfly
even when it's holding
the gas can
and the matches.
what I don't fit in
No illusions at your prow,
only in your wake.
Ariels chasing rotors
Aladdins chasing jets
a carpet of helicopters
and an ocean of scraps.
Nobody knows me on time
By the time you know who I am
she is who I was
and you know nothing at all
you have only
a minute without a motor.
these are excellent questions
There are stupid questions;
you are not one of them.
There are pointless answers;
you are not one of them.