Yes, dear neglected reader . . . more poetry! Sorry. It has been a long while, but my poetry is back. Hopefully, it'll be back forever . . . or close to that. Anyway, working on some new stuff . . . here's a taste:
pastel and present
one with just enough firmness
to keep my back from aching
when I finally decide
I've slept enough for one night
it breaks apart like window glass
when I wish too hard for it to live
are a clumsy lot they'll drop
a well-oiled fantasy in the parking lot
and watch it melt into darkness
and swear to your unconscious being
that you are mistaken you had no dreams
you had no dreams no dreams at all
nothing but this potted plant
a couch a few chairs and a tiny
dining table with a broken leg
Woodie July 31-2o15
pastel and present
think
I'll fall to sleep now
encase
myself in a warm thoughtone with just enough firmness
to keep my back from aching
when I finally decide
I've slept enough for one night
I won't dream . . . or if I do
I won't remember that I did so
A dream is far too fragile
a thing to wrap my sleepy self-up init breaks apart like window glass
when I wish too hard for it to live
The
moving guys who reside inside
the
subconscious working worldare a clumsy lot they'll drop
a well-oiled fantasy in the parking lot
and watch it melt into darkness
and swear to your unconscious being
that you are mistaken you had no dreams
you had no dreams no dreams at all
nothing but this potted plant
a couch a few chairs and a tiny
dining table with a broken leg
that’s
my life my life
a
trail of broken thingsWoodie July 31-2o15
