Monday, August 27, 2007

Chattering Teeth

I remember a professor
invited to speak
to us about careers.
He could not wait
to dig his hand
inside a paper sack.

Like an overgrown boy
he pulled out a toy
wound it up
put it down

a set of teeth
chattering away
bouncing itself
around in circles
clackity clack
smackity smack
falling off the edge.
He ran to catch it.

I forgot his message.

Today I think
of people like that
whose mouths
flap endlessly,
they gossip away
as mindless puppets
their words mean little
and wonder
why they fall.

I remember
falling like that
feeling low and worthless

yet somebody out there
a mentor or voice
like that professor
caught me and helped
me back to level ground.

New Orleans Clown

no, don't drag me into your world
your skit, your mime
the silent dialogue
of your white-gloved hands

don't make contact
with those painted eyes
or frown and smile
with that hotdog-shaped mouth

don't put me through a guilt trip
if I don't play your game
of catch and release
don't make me cross the road

I don't care if I hurt your feelings
you tricky man hiding
as an innocent under that clown suit
how do I know you mean no harm

Saturday, August 25, 2007


for many hours
when we were young
we played with those prisms
rainbow colors bouncing off the walls
refracted light shining through from the sun
those entrancing slanted surfaced paper weights

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Four Walls

Float to the ceiling
I'm light as a feather
my arms have wings
at first I lose control
bumping into walls
twists and turns
spinning me around
as a tornado
tosses wreckage
it scares me to death.

Like a baby bird
first learning to fly
I figure the balance
and slow my speed
level my arms
gliding my way
travel the room
around and around
without hurting myself
and then I wake up.


My strained right eye.
Frightening debris
obstructing my vision.
Did somebody clip my eyelash,
and place it in my eye?

A hemorrhage,
posterior vitreous detachment--
a sudden blast
of venous fibers,
octopus tentacles
floating in my eye.

It hurts
pain behind it
like tissue ripped
from the retina.

That eyeball
feels larger than the other,
a marble popping out
of its socket.

Sleepless nights
forcing myself to get more rest
fear of losing my eye.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Rain in August

I raise my window
God's musicians
play in the cooling rain
I listen

a steady waterfall
tinkle a running creek

raindrops rap in a bucket next door
as percussionists tap
timbales and tom-toms

combining different thump beats
booming base drums
hands ripple one finger at a time

I want to dance as I am--in the rain
like dancing on noisy cellophane
to crinkle at least for the night

the pail has its fill
drum taps take intermission
the sky keeps raining

rumbles echo from the southern sky
God's kettledrums
roar and fade as lions on hilltops
a timpani in God's symphony


Good sleeping weather