April Whispers-May Daze

April Whispers-May Daze

I whispered into her ear
hopelessly, in wistful undertone
But she quickly turned away
evanesced before my eyes
My words never reaching
her inner ear fade softly
into May daze

An April PAD Song

An Assembled symphony
An April PAD song
A sensational vibration
Thirty days long
Reverberating
Immensely
Still echoing
Bounding
Reflecting
Traveling
Carried
Through
Wind
Distancing
As
an
Echoed
Word
Flown
Yet
Still
heard

Ella Muse

Ella Muse



She comes
to visit
unnoticed
creeps
leaves
without
saying
goodbye
sometimes
she
comes
arrayed
in red
clothing
sexy
charming
alarming
sometimes
she's
full
of
choice
words
sentiment
over
flowing
confident
other
times
she's
hardly
there
uncomely
bashful
lacking
but the
reality
is
sometimes
she
doesn't
show
at
all

The Trouble is keeping the Fire going

The Trouble is keeping the Fire going



Who is the author of this April PAD ardor?
With combustible talent, just who could be the starter?
Not in concurrent flames existing that burn side by side
But of collective spirit enkindled, conveying collaborative stride 
Daily prompts, daily poets, daily cheer, daily views
A sightly thirty day ignition and fruition of muse
What emission, transmission revealed in each hued ember
Every poet inflamed, incinerates precious poetical timber 
Another April PAD at the cusp, of yet another glamorous end
The only treasured thoughts are...next year can we do it again?

Transformation

Transformation


Somewhere in the night
I morphed into a sloth;
Dim blackened eyes,
Woolly-haired three toed beast.
Lanky arms slither-n-slide across the bed
With slack hand releasing
The snooze button... again.

The Good Old Days

The Good Old Days


Simply no longer in the
limelight of any sort of sport
Unless you include chasing kids
before bath and bedtime.
Laid waste as the day draws
nearer to forty
than in the beginning

Now I contemplate
the hustle and bustle
of the good ol' days;
the days of old,
which were new
back then...

It was growth like a beanstalk
evergreen, with lasting foliage
dashing down the court
contesting every shot
dodging the potholes

Posting up in the paint
Ascending for the rebound
Now I hardly leave the ground
My feet pain of fasciitis

My knees scream retire
Nothing left in these old tires
The air of youth has rescinded
From this old vehicle
And the weight born
Wears with every mile

Ashes

Ashes     (anti-love poem)


It was nothing less than
your hazardous double-edged
discernment that hacked us into pieces.

Our lingering hopes were shredded
by your serrated attitudes.
Our marriage, was irreconcilably minced.

Our union reduced to sawdust;
clambered in the wind
and scattered like chaff.

Addled Attraction

Addled Attraction


I love your sass
And sarsaparilla hips
Luscious, dark raven locks
Sauced, glistening lips
Those thick thunderous thighs
With nothing left undisguised
But only to your surprise
Do I say, do you love me?

Pillow Talk

Pillow Talk


Mmmm...
Just another minute...
I definitely don't want to leave you.
With you, I'm so comfortable.
Deluded by buoyant embrace.
So, so drawn to your softness, cuddlesome character.
When I'm with you, I'm weightless.
And my cozen bones whisk away...

Miss Morning

Miss Morning




In the womb of the dawn
Morning awakens
With fierce arising
From the depths of night unkept
With bounteous hope in her ray
Gathering spring in her step
Splashing emergent newness
Nascent quickening day
Scattering darkness
Piercing forest, leaf, limb
Fully pacing, hastening her way
Racing for miles
Smiling and giving smiles away

Unreliable Minds

Unreliable Minds


The mind works by knowledge
When knowledge is lacking
It operates under free assumption
That holds no truth
But rather fallacious fabrications
That lead to irrational conception
Issuing in unreliable misjudgment

Supplier of Life

Supplier of Life


Precious is the heart
the invigorating muscle of the human body
Constantly handling our life blood
day in, day out

Effortlessly dispensing
the precious life juice
to every cell in need
fostering growth, function

Precious is the heart, the enduring ox
that only knows to labor
showing no tire
knowing no fatigue

HUMAN HARMONY

HUMAN HARMONY  (Tanka)

Brick by brick conjoined,
Layered cellular beauties
Perform their duty
Interdependently well
In multi-cellular tune

Uninvited Guest

Uninvited Guest

Arctic winds push
Sly wintry mixes
Weathering limb, life
Feathery masses
Of crystal flake
Dominate the landscape
Dressed in snow white blankets

Let's Write something

Let's Write something

I'm willing but my mind is void
The muse is not open yet
My words have abandoned me
And have gone astray
Retreat!
...time for coffee

Still Quietness

Still Quietness

It's almost been a month
since I've last seen you...
In a casket, coated with make up
Dressed in silence and your favorite
beige suit.  I won't lie, it was quite burdensome
to see death reigning over your mortal body
feigning a smile splayed across your face

For as long as my soul has known you
You've always been a busy man
But here, you're forever settled...
Laid silent, in still quietness.
In this, Dad, rest in  peace

Sweet Potato Palace

Breakfast in bed
With sweet potato pie
Paradise on earth
My, oh my
Please tuck me in
In sweet potato skins
With Marshmallow pillows
Let the games begin
Hand over the cinnamon
And please pass the potato
Grab your popcorn
And watch this rodeo

Slow Cooker

Slow Cooker

A little love, a little hate
quantified sufferings
mingled with joy
Cracked hopes
spilled together
into one vessel
stirred with emotion

Measured spices
sprinkled stress
a dash of sweetness
a pinch of strife
seasoned by
lengthy lessons of life

This Old Bag of a Balloon

This Old Bag of a Balloon


Give me those primal cheeks, those irresistible charming buttons
and don't turn away,
but let me clasp your cuteness betwixt thumb and index...
yes, palpable pleasures, indeed enjoyed, compressed, still squeezed.

Let me see your winning countenance
display those genuine sizzling smiles
slashing self's misery straps
once thickened with constraining wiles

Now this old bag of a balloon
is released in the joy of your unmasked face
now this old bag of a balloon
re-inflated with your effervescent child-like grace

Love Me or Love Me Not

Love Me or Love Me Not


Love me or love me
not. Our sullied hearts entwine,
Love's affliction knot--
Tighten, clench: two halves made one
in unison's cord and song.