Posts Tagged ‘Woods’

Fragment 001

Posted: November 4, 2002 in Poetry
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Here in my cabin in the woods
I feel trees leaning over me
Rain coursing down their trunks,
A sad splishing of water
Pooling, making wet mud
Stirring load, packing leaves
Measuring time patiently.

why can’t I
just be another guy?
but I’m a person
with a snake-sharp tongue
and I’m a ripped flannel…
I shoot my mouth like a shotgun.
riddles and rhyming and rhythm,
not taken seriously enough to stay honest
just another number in the GTE phone list.
I lie and I lie and I lie
to convince you all
that the poet is just another human being;
that I am just another guy.

I thresh through these lines
like a dog wrapped in seaweed,
thrown with stones in the ocean:
I can’t breathe –
there’s all the smoke from the fires I’m lightning,
I’m telling the sheriff that I’m struck by lightning.
when does it all stop echoing ‘round in circles?
I think it’s just another dream.
I’m on a porch with a candle and a carpet;
there’s crickets all around
and I feel wonderful without the world dragging me down.
look, I see you don’t understand with a frown.

I can’t even repeat what I’ve said.
I can’t think of a poem I’ve written,
then read,
and thought that this is it, this is perfect!
I’ve even given up trying to rework it.
I don’t want to write for a living anymore
I feel like the homework that’s always lost to the dog
and I don’t remember whatever
I expected from myself anymore.
these fireworks of joy that I wished to paint the skies with
are nothing more than explosions
of white-winged moths from a log
that I’ve kicked walking alone in the woods.

a Man of Many Talents,
none too outstanding, but outstanding in having
many talents; things to choose from
but the worry is happiness and
peace of mind – though he won’t admit it,
he wants the instruction book:
he wants help in figuring it out
what goes where and which thing does what,
why this thing moves and this one doesn’t,
and why things are the way they are.

thus the poetry.
a book of lessons learned and notes,
ideas on what was going on then to be
hints on what to do if it’s happening now.
affirmations of belief to view
when unsure and vaccilating
about what to do.

Untitled Poem #149

Posted: February 22, 1993 in Poetry
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A Druid has stood
In the green of my woods,
A forest of lines of verse.
The light from her eyes
Has given me my eagles
Which soar through my nighttime skies.
I hunt for the words
As mice run from an owl
And stand them in bowls;
Bouquets of flowers
to please me.

Stick Man and Rock Man

Posted: November 17, 1990 in Poetry
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I remember stealing through the woods
admiring the trees all the while
catching a magic glimpse of you
dancing alone with a smile.

walking along a seaweeded beach,
I play in the sand with you.
I build you castles for your delight
then walk home with sand in my shoes.

Devices

Posted: October 31, 1990 in Poetry
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out in the woods by myself
I follow footprints which are someone else’s.
no-one knows where I am.
nobody understands just what I’m doing.
I don’t follow to be like the others;
I follow to see where they’re going.
then I scamper off in my own direction
leaving them lost to their own devices.