mourned I my marraige less

Things come on me quickly; losses
do I mourn. Carried with I so long
in symbiotic succor they were me -

anger, regret. How can I mark
your leaving save like sickness.
I had you once, now I do not.

Anger was left as well as regret
by a graveside or two, more
if divorce be death of an existence.

And in the rebirthing I immerged
lighter by a thing or two, more
counting those as yet lay unfound.

***this one may need more...not sure what i want to convey...is.


something natural and real

I am not a prophet, am in no way prophetic;
from my lips, my tongue, fingers that mediate
comes harsh reality as well as romantic ideals.
For though I dream, dreamy I am not.

Presuppose upon me and I will let you down.
Let me succor you instead at the breast of life;
human frailty, doubt and confidence, fear
overcome, all in weights and measures day-to-day.


suddenly

I suddenly recall
sixteen years of

feeling stupid. Funny
how things come back to you...


Gray skies and rain today…

Gray skies and rain today

Last time as you lingered
in the morning as you left

tempting me to keep you
all the day and all the way

thought I to stop awhile
in ponderance to attest,

let laughter meet my eyes
and sighs heave my breast;

soft my heart did smile
of your pleasing I recalled

how wet my body craved.
Once more, once more,

whispered I in the hall.