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Sep 2019 · 303
WEATHER REPORT
We’ve bottled up the rain and sent it East
Where it has swept away the treasures of a lifetime
And howling winds have torn the roofs
Off our houses and our souls

The furies march in endless waves
Of lightning led by thunder
Across the sacred middle lands
That form the heart-beat of our being,

Ravishing the Eastern shores
With hurricanes and floods
While we here in the scorching West
Watch all the green things wilt and die.

We got so little in return
For sending all that water East:
Parched and ravaged forest lands
On Fire in endless places.

We need some of that rainfall here
To cool the blazing desert sands.
To even out the catastrophic
Damage we have done to Gaea.

While little planes fall from the stormy skies
And land on fields and homesteads,
The houses all hide troves of weapons
With angry trigger fingers waiting.

Our lungs burn in the Amazon;
The leader won’t accept our help.
It’s getting hard to catch a breath
As we choke Inhaling flavored vapors.

There’s little hope, but still they come
Across the muddy borders
Seeking safety and prosperity
That’s nothing but illusion

The weather Gods are furious
At what we’ve done, and we’ve become
Just twisted icons swirling in the flames
Of hatred, greed and apathy.

Following a Judas Goat, we march
Toward destruction of our planet
Shouting slogans filled with lies
And promises that all is well.
ljm
Last night, at 98 degrees hot, we  had the mother of all wind,   thunder, lightning, and dust storms. And not a drop of rain to ease the pain.  There's an old folk song called "What Have They Done To The Rain".  Joan Baez sang it. In the song it never stopped raining  .It's  just the opposite here, sad to say.
Aug 2019 · 320
MELODY
As quickly as she came, the muse departed-
I hadn’t even gotten her a chair
Or offered her a cookie and some tea.
She stood inside my cottage door
And sang a lovely song with several verses,
Then turned and faded through the roses
Into the twilight and was gone.

I struggle to recall the words
While snatches of the melody
Play endlessly across my mind,
Eliminating any hope of
Capturing the lovely thoughts
And conjuring a way
To make them mine.

Her melody was haunting
And the words caressed my soul.
They turned the shadows golden
And brought summer to my cottage
Where the winter winds had blown.
The memory of that moment
Matched the beauty of her song.

I couldn’t make her stay with me
And I’m the poorer for it.
ljm
My creative spark is like a firefly.
Aug 2019 · 369
HOOKED
There is an addictive beauty in sadness
It’s easy to get hooked on pain
It’s a one-way street to depression
With no way to get out again.

You feel so good after crying
You sometimes must invent a good reason
There’s some kind of comfort in sighing
It gets you through Holiday Season

The craving for sorrow is endless
It lures like a velvety shroud
That shields from the world’s melancholy
When the ache begins keening out loud.

A funereal smile may be moving
And earn you a pitying hug
But Somehow you must forswear Anguish
And stop yourself craving this drug.
ljm
Misery can become a habit if you don't watch out.  I know this for sure.
Aug 2019 · 1.3k
NEW CAREER
Is this going to be another joke-
A shiny nickel welded to the floor
So when I bend to pick it up
A paddle whacks me from behind.

Will this turn out to be a whoopee cushion
Hidden underneath my chair
So when I proudly take my seat
The room erupts in cruel laughter.

Will I put forth a major effort,
Break my back and heart in trying,
Only to find the load’s too heavy
For me to ever hope to lift it,

Too complicated to untangle,
Too precise for my small skills,
A recipe for certain failure
If I dare to take that step.

Doubts and fears are ***** traps
That I must circumvent to win
And if I find that I can do it
I can be the hero of my life.
    ljm
Yes to all of the above.  I wrote this a couple of months after I lost my job.  I thought I had found a new career but I couldn't make it happen. So I put this aside.
Aug 2019 · 280
SCORECARD
Standing atop the pile of ****
The’ve heaped on me for years,
I am not buried in it. Even
The soles of my warrier boots are clean.

My righteous coating still holds fast
And everything they throw at me
Richchets to land as notes
On their St. Peter score card.
       ljm
Written a couple of months before the ******* found a way to do me out of my decades long job.
Aug 2019 · 270
SINK OR SWIM
My hours are filled with business
To camouflage the gloom
That fills my mind with dizziness
At my oncoming doom.

There’s no way to turn the tide
I’d jumped off the dock.
I should have found a place to hide
Behind a nice safe rock.

In truth, I didn’t really jump
Someone came up behind
And gave my back a mighty thump
How could I have been so blind.

I always knew they hated me
And wished that I would die.
But I was where I had to be
To get my family by.

The water’s deep and I am cold.
I have no choice but to swim
I wish that I were not so old
But I will still show them.

I see the shore not far away
Much prettier than here.
It promises a brighter day
And living without fear.

I know that I can swim that far
And I’ll have the last laugh
When I excel in my new life
To spite that hateful staff.
ljm
This was written last year, right after I lost my job.
Aug 2019 · 756
FLOCKS
Flocks of birds
Across the morning sky
Tell me
I’m not in the city any more.
             ljm
Don't know what they are, just know they're beautiful.
Aug 2019 · 269
DEFICIT
I thought that I had cried enough
But I was sadly wrong.
Full thirty years was way too short
To cure the injuries I caused.

A tear can only heal so much.
It takes a torrent to begin
To wash away the kind of hurt
That flares up on a random day.

It takes the peaceful weeks between
To make the pain more sharply felt
When it comes back, tied to a word,
A song or photograph.

It takes an education
To learn how to make a smile
Across a face that’s etched in sorrow
And convince the world it’s real.

It takes a will to lift the load
And carry it another day,
When there is nothing but more days
And tears that need to fall ahead.

I thought that I had cried enough
But I was so mistaken.
There is no sign that says you’re done
And you are free to go now.
ljm
I wrote this a while ago.  I'm better now - at least until it pops up to bite me again.
Aug 2019 · 849
I JUST DON'T
I don’t know where it went
  I just know it’s gone
    I don’t know how it happened
      I just know I did it
        I don’t know what it even was
          I just know I miss it
            I don’t know where to go to find it
              I just know I have to try
                             ljm
Ever feel like there's something missing in your life?  Every day.
Aug 2019 · 262
QUESTION
Why is Omni suddenly unable to post???
He got this message:

Forbidden (403)
CSRF vrification failed.  Request aborted.

What is this all about and why did it happen?
Hey, Algorithm guys...how about an answer?
Lets get one of our primo contributors up and running again.
Strange are the ways of HP these days.
Aug 2019 · 198
USED TO
I used to be the prettiest girl in the room
And usually the smartest
I was the queen of reparte'
And good at almost everything

I used to always get
The biggest piece of cake,
And the seat nearest the front
Was always saved for me.

I used to juggle seven ***** at once
While keeping ten plates spinning on their poles
And dancing to the latest beat
Dressed up in next year’s fashions.

I used to keep track of everything
I had my finger on the pulse
Of what was new and meaningful
And helped to make it real.

I used to write enduring verse
That awed them when I read it
I wrote of Hollyhocks and love
In words that time could not erase.

I used to visualize today,
No longer beautiful or smart
And wonder how I’d face the world
And make my way across it.

I used to be what I’m now not
So when I make a smaller splash
I find it’s nice to not get soaked
Therefore I’m happy to be me
ljm
Living past your looks is not for the faint ofh eart.
Aug 2019 · 180
VISAGE
Twenty years of endless anger
Now are etched across my face-
Forehead gauged with v-shaped furrows
That a smile cannot erase.

When not grinning, lips turn down
Sad or happy makes no difference,
My countenance looks like a frown
Though this is not my usual preference.

Eighteen months of peaceful calm
Cannot remove the anger’s trace
Massage and oils don’t do the trick
Nor did moving to a better place.

I am not a harridan,
I need to tell the world,
Even though my angry look
Seems like a battle flag unfurled.

I’m really nice - give me a chance
To show my gentle heart.
Let me put the frown away
And make a brand new start.

Let me speak in poetry
And not get trapped in rhyme.
Let me show a happy face
And try it one more time.
ljm
They say every woman has the face she deserves by the age of 40.  Took me a little longer and I don't like the results.
Jul 2019 · 791
VIEW FROM WATERCREST STREET
VIEW FROM WATERCREST ST.

Clouds that look like something
           A novice wedding baker
                    Would pipe onto a cake

Spread themselves across
      The distant mountain tops
                   In swooping shades of
                            Peach and cobalt blue.

The sheet cake of
          Remaining sky
                Resembles Blueberry Yogurt
                        Swirled with apricot jam.

As quickly as this
         Wondrous dawning scene
                               Appears, it fades

To ordinary morning
          Clouds, and sky that hints
                      Of rainstorms and
                                         Humidity.

What did I do yesterday
          That earned me
                      This reward today.
ljm
Jul 2019 · 363
FLIVVER *
I am a vintage model car
Sought after greatly in my time
Sleek and shiny
With fancy wheels
Capable of great speed.

Driven hard for all those years
I’m ready for an overhaul.
My engine’s powerful and good
But other things have failed.

My side-view mirror’s cracked
One door wIll not unlock
My turn signals do not work
I need some new upholstery
And a little paint would help.

However when you turn the key
I roar into impressive sound
And get you where you want to go.

No one admires me any more
I’m just a useful tool
But I remember long ago
When I was the new car on the block
And people looked as they passed by.
ljm
*  Google it.          .Omni will get it.
Jul 2019 · 20.3k
SEARCH & RESCUE
I still pine
       for what I’ve lost
               the promise and
                               fulfillment.

I still search my memory
                for hidden fragments
                                 of that treasure.

     Time has covered
                some of them in
                            shadows of nostalgia.

     But the flaming pain
                        still brightly burns and
                                      tears will not extinguish it.
                        ljm
Sometimes I feel like a broken record.  Healing much too slowly.
Jul 2019 · 497
BIRDS
I saw a giant flock of Wrens
Fling themselves across the dawning sky
Like a scattering of onyx jewels,

Flowing like the tide at ebb,
This way and that, swirling
In fantastic breezes I couldn’t feel.

As suddenly as they came, they left,
Headed for some magic place  
That only birds know how to find.

The sky seems empty now they’re gone
Even though a brilliant sunrise
Lurks behind the distant mountains

And promises a light show of it’s own.
The birds became an Obbligato
To this morning sunrise Etude
And I am enriched for sharing it.
ljm
More of my dawn walking adventures.  It'll soon be too hot here in NV to go out walking, even in the morning, so I'm enjoying it while I can.
Jul 2019 · 406
SPOUSE
Agony is dripping off of me.
It’s leaving puddles that will spoil the rug.
I’m tracking footprints of it
All across the kitchen floor.

My misery is a shrieking wail
That has the local canines all on edge,
And could entertain by breaking glass.

My hopelessness is fog so thick
I cannot see across the room.
It snuffs out any candles lit.

And yet you do not notice
You do not see
You do not hear
You do not know my flame’s gone out.

How am I to make you share
This awful death I’m dying -
Or must I do it all alone.
ljm
None so blind as those who will not see -Bible
Where have the daily poems gone?  
That’s how I start my day, and I miss them.
June 27 was the last date one showed on my Mac.  
Was nothing worthy in the ensuing week?  
Is Eliot unwell?  Who chooses the Dailies?
Is that person also unwell.
Does anybody know anything.
Somebody tell me something.
                        ljm
For those who can't tell the difference, this is not a poem.  It's a query.  § :-D
Jun 2019 · 355
FOREIGNER
In this foreign, hostile land
Who will mourn me when I die.
In this place where no one knows my face
Who will lay a flower on my bier.
Who will say my name with tear stained eyes
And mark their journal with this date.

In this place I didn’t want to be
Who will notice when I’m gone
And feel the hollow left behind.
Who will long to see my smile
And know they never will again.
Who will cry for me here when I’m gone.
    ljm
Still struggling to feel at home here.  Two steps forward, one step back.
Jun 2019 · 378
SNAPSHOT
A  sliver of the moon
Wearing the North star as a hat
Perches over a cotton candy sunrise
In an otherwise clear sky.
Morning in Nevada.
ljm
I'm so in love with the sunrises here.
Jun 2019 · 272
MISFITS
Fishes out of more than water,
We swim against the tide at every turn.
We finally find the key, only to learn
The door has just been welded shut.
We tiptoe softly. but the echos sound.
Even though we close the windows,
The wind still whistles in
And we are chilled.
ljm
The feeling is not really fading with time.  Maybe more time is needed.
Jun 2019 · 345
SUNRISE WALK
Looking like white cotton ***** pulled and stretched
Til they are thin as gauze and wispySpread across the morning sky
With other clouds that ripple like enormous corduroy.
I see them as I step out on my daily sunrise walk.
Up sloping streets, down slanted lanes,
I revel in this twilight of the night time.

Knowing there will be a show to take my breath away,
I climb the rubbled hill that separates our steeets
From those across the access road. It’s very steep
And I place my feet with caution on the narrow path.
It would’t do to slip and tumble down the rocky *****.
I walk the ridge-line - half a mile - avoiding
All the off-road tracks that scar the tumbled surface,
Making daring runs across and up and down the steepness

First the bottom of the clouds turn Cotton Candy pink,
Just at the horizon line of jagged, distant mountains.
Then as I watch, the color seeps across the other clouds
Until the morning sky resembles bubble gum.
As quickly as it comes, it fades and takes a golden hue
That gradually turns pink to gold, as the clouds
All change their dresses.
The indigo of the pre-dawn sky plugs in to nature’s power
And the sky begins to glow a neon azure blue.

A flash on the horizon line announces the
First shimmer-glimmer of the sun
As it wakes up and stretches arms across the sky,
And all the pink and gold goes home until tomorrow.
At which point I do the same.
         ljm
Never seen dawns like these before.
Jun 2019 · 816
BLINDED
You pull me down so I can’t see the mountains
You block my eyes so I can’t see the sky.
You take the joy from every day endeavors
And I am left with naught to do but cry.

You don’t return the sentiments I give you
You never say the words I long to hear.
You don’t observe the world the way that I do
It causes me to shed an endless tear.

You know you cannot live without me
Yet you treat me as an unimportant thing.
I’m just expected to be happy
Because I wear your golden ring.

You cast a haze on celebrations
You never help me to succeed.
You always think I shouldn’t bother
To step in where I might see a need.

You put no value on my efforts
There is no praise when I excel
You spend your love on your possessions
There’s none for me that I can tell.

I cannot see a way around this
You’ve blinded me to every hope
I exist in worlds of darkness
In a TV Opera selling soap.
ljm
I don't remember now, what exactly he did, but it made me very mad and every old gripe floated to the surface.
Jun 2019 · 350
DOMICILE
Angles and arches
Niches and hallways
Surprising new spaces
Rough on the outside.
Smooth on the inside
Bright by the windows
Dark in the corners
The shape of my home
The arc of my life.
ljm
Tract homes are designed by lotus eaters and crack smokers.
Jun 2019 · 910
LYRIC
I’ll be there when you call
I’ll be there if you fall
In you I’ve found my future
I’ll be there, I’ll be there.

I’ll be there when you fly
I’ll be there if you cry
In you I’ve found my answer
I’ll be there, I’ll be there.
ljm
A song I never quite finished.
May 2019 · 476
MIGRANT
We don’t belong here
Among people who see
Only red in the kaleidoscope.

People who will burn down the candy store
To keep a foreigner’s kid
From maybe getting a lollypop.

People whose good will
Ends at the top of
A concealed leather holster.

We don’t belong here
In a place where the scenery
Goes off limits 97 days a year.

A place where the wind
Is often angrier than me
And covers things with talcum powder dust.

A place where no humidity
Parches eyes and nose and mouth
And water gives you kidney stones.

A place where those with shrunken purses
Huddle down in freon igloos
Longing for the place they left.

We don’t belong here
The shadows of our spirits do not match
We sing our songs in foreign keys.

We hide the face of who we are
And wear the mask of fitting in
No, we really don’t belong here

But here we stay because
There is no other place to go.
          ljm
Welcome to the other Nevada. The one without the Roulette wheels.
May 2019 · 461
EMOTIONS
My emotions are a weather vane
Something my hubby knows
I laugh, I cry, I live, I  ‘die'
Whichever the way life blows.

I drown myself in salty tears
I sink to the ocean’s floor
Then I rise and build a boat
And row myself to shore.

I’m living in a hostile place
That wants to fry my bones
But I have Air and Water there
So you will hear no moans.

I take that back - there will be moans
Because that’s what I do
I weep and wail to no avail
And then I muddle through.

My pen lives in the shadows
While my life lives in the sun
Trust my perseverance
Until this race is run.
ljm
A silly scribble that was fun to write.
May 2019 · 473
HATING
If hatred was a pencil, I’d write your name and address on the subscription form in every magazing in the world and mail them in.

If hatred was a marker, I’d write a rude comment and sign your name on every wall in town.

If hatred was a telephone I’d autodial your number a hundred times both day and night.

If hatred was a needle, I’d poke it into every VooDoo dolly I could find.

If hatred was a letter, I’d threaten every elected official with a grave injury and sign your name.

If hatred was a song I’d play it at 180 DBs in your back yard, twenty-four-seven.

If hatred was your Cadillac I’d key it til the last shred of it’s paint was gone.

If hatred was a poison, which it is, I must research an antidote...

It seems my hatred’s really killing the one that I love best -  and that is me.
ljm
An old hate rears its ugly head.
May 2019 · 1.2k
DECISIONS
At every forking of the road
I took the one less traveled.
And then I found to my dismay
The reason it was bypassed.
ljm
Life is a harsh school teacher.
May 2019 · 1.0k
UNHAPPINESS
Unhappiness hangs like a wet, heavy fog
Coating any random happiness with salty tears.
It hovers just above the ground
Snuffing every little hopefulness that glows.

Unhappiness is as silent as a winter’s dawn
That muffles all the birdsong
And the wake-up call of crickets,
And turns the beating heart into a drum.

Unhappiness is as painful as a
Finger slammed shut in a car door,
Where no blood streams out
But turns to purple underneath the skin.

Unhappiness is insidious;
Growing in the half light of depression
Like mushrooms in a lonely cave
That one really knows is there.

Unhappiness is as heavy as a cross
Laid across the shoulders of your heart
As you struggle up the endless hill
That suddenly appears before you.

Unhappiness is a dozen little ills
That mock your efforts to be healthy,
That burrow like a worm into an apple
And curtail the slightest possibility of joy.

Unhappiness is my middle name.
ljm
Wrote this on a bad day. I'm a sad person under a thick veneer of happiness.
May 2019 · 425
HIS AND HERS
HIS DREAMS
At least the ones that he recalls and tells me
Nearly always have a story based on ***.
A group of women capture him
For Show and Tell and more -
For naughty games with other names,
A **** movie A to Z.

MY DREAMS
Vignettes with no song to sing
Pieces from a jigsaw puzzle
Scattered all across the floor
The pieces come from different boxes
And they never make a picture
And there’s never any ***.
       ljm
In my lifetime, I'v had all the commonly known dreams:  flying, falling, being chased, finding money, being onstage and not knowing my lines, being in public in only my underwear, being unable to have privacy to ***, being lost in a strange city, being chased through a big building's halls and stairs.
May 2019 · 543
MARCHING TO THE SEPULCHER
Busy trying to stay busy
Busy looking for a purpose
Busy searching out a reason
Why the hours must all be filled.

Making silliness important
Assigning value where there’s none
Turning make-work into passion
Goaded by the minute hand.

Twirling in a fog of boredom
Searching for the golden egg
Spinning hours into blankets
Useful as a place to hide.

Can this be the destination
Of the long and winding road;
Dumped off at the edge of living
Just to wait the final call.
ljm
Life is not for the faint hearted.
Apr 2019 · 335
MAGIC
There is no magic in the world
If there was,
I’d be on Woodland Avenue
With an endless dollar in my pocket.

There is no magic in the world
If there was, i’d be strong and limber
And healthy as a horse
With beautiful thrown into the bargain.

There is no magic in the world
If there was
I could make everything better
For everyone who is ill or hurting.

There is no magic in the world
So I must make the best of
Where I am and how I feel
And try to maybe touch another heart.

That would be my very own magic.
             ljm
Apr 2019 · 250
OUTCAST
I offered you my hand - you spit in it
I said I’d walk along with you - you tripped me and I fell
I tried to sing the song you wrote - you unplugged the microphone
I told the world how great you are - you told them I’m a liar

I tried to follow on your path - you covered it with broken glass
I sent you every cent I owned - you never cashed the check
I mailed you all my hopes and dreams - it came back postage due
I got the message finally - I gathered up my love and walked away
                   ljm
Love is a gift that will sometimes not be accepted.
Apr 2019 · 327
NOTRE DAME
Burning at the very gates of Heaven,
The raging flames of Hell engulf
What two wars and the plague
Could never ****.

Brought down by a careless worker
Who must learn to live
With what he’s caused,
While a city falls down to its knees.

Precious Paris, you wept with us
When the Twin Towers fell, so now
We reach out for your trembling hand
In comfort and in sorrow shared.
                            LJM
I lived through a Cathedral fire where I work, and  I know the heartbreak, so my heart goes out to Paris.  They may not always treat us nicely but they don't deserve this.
Apr 2019 · 881
WALK
The moon’s still high In the dawning sky
And the streetlights cut the gloom.
I go for a walk and a mental talk
That sweeps my mind like a broom.

The desert air, to which none can compare
Banishes all thoughts of doom
I walk the street to an eager beat
Like a Bride on the way to her Groom.
ljm
Every morning I walk.  Once in a while I rhyme.
Apr 2019 · 1.2k
SWAN SONG
The cygnet scorns the swan
And swims in ever wider circles.
Downstream roars the waterfall
And overhead a falcon swoops.
             ljm
Ahh the perils of a teenage daughter spreading her wings.
Apr 2019 · 306
BARFLY LIMERICK
BARFLY LIMERICK

There once was a fellow from Lauglin
Who went to the bar once too often
He thought he was cool
‘Til he fell off the stool
And ended up in a pine coffin.
ljm
Apr 2019 · 451
privileged
It’s easy to be the biggest wheel,
Passing out the lollipops
Stolen from the little kids.

It’s not difficult to save the world,
When the whole thing fits
Atop your breakfast table.

It’s not so hard to be a hero
When your uncle runs the war
And stations you in Malibu.

It’s a cinch to win the prize
When daddy buys up all the tickets
And mom will draw the numbers.

What’s really hard is to grow up
And be a man of principle
A man who does the thing that’s good
Even though no one will see
And crowds will not shout out his name.

To be a man who does the work
To see his vision through
Without expecting miracles
To make his dreams come true.

The world is waiting for this man
It may not even be a male
But someone with a Hero’s heart
Who isn’t bought with promised gold
And only cares to do what’s right.

Hopefully that person will be found
Before the final trumpets sounds
ljm
Of course it is.  You know it is.
Apr 2019 · 290
ADRIFT
Robbed of purpose, I’m bereft.
I’m a hammer without nails.
The castle that I built is far away
Behind iron fences and locked gates.
I’m exiled here with tools still shiny
But no blueprint was sent along
And lumber is in short supply.
I’m a craftsman - I must build,
Or rust along with all my tools.
I feel I’m left out in the cold
And the forecast is for rain.
ljm
Still struggling with being dumped into retirement so very unwillingly and so painfully.
Mar 2019 · 224
LILACS
There are no lilacs blooming in my soul
The last of them was stolen by that wily thief
Called practicality.

The Sweet Peas of my youthful years are gone.
Their perfume scented all my early efforts, but are
Fading in the glaring sun of duty.

How I loved the midnight-petaled pansies of creation.
They lined the paths in many magic gardens, but were
Crushed beneath the millstone of responsibility.

All the Humming Birds and Meadow Larks have flown,
Leaving me with only the cacophony of crows
When In my heart I long to hear the Mocking Bird.

The clouds no longer speak to me.
The breeze flies by with no kind whisper
And shreds the lacy curtains of my life

Leaving me with only dreams of Hollyhocks and Foxgloves,
Straining for the sight of Red-winged Blackbirds,
Longing for the melody that I can’t sing.

I can’t forget the smell of Summer Lilacs.
There must be a place where they still grow
And I will never stop until I find them.
     ljm
Searching for the lyrical.  Finding only a to-do list.
Mar 2019 · 1.1k
LIMERICK FOR POETS
There  once  was  a  writer  from  Laughlin
Considered  a  poetic  boffin
She  wrote  corny  verse
That  couldn’t  be  worse
And  thus  wasn’t  read  very  often.
ljm
now who could I be referring to?
Mar 2019 · 404
COLLUSION
Is it colluding if you get wind
Of the evil deeds of others
That will ultimately help you,
And you don’t try to stop them-
You don’t actually OFFER to help,
But you DO stand by and let it happen
And then reap all the benefits from it.
Is that “colluding by proxy”?
ljm
And OJ Didn't do it either, did he.
Mar 2019 · 548
WEEPING
I weep for words that will not dance,
That will not float on wings of thought,
But only thud on solid ground

I weep for songs I cannot sing
The phrases buzz like happy bees
That sting me and then fly away

I weep for souls I cannot touch
With tenderness and hope
Because I reach with crippled hands

I weep for gifts I cannot share
The addressee is marked “unknown”
And it comes back all soiled and torn

I weep because it’s all I know
When nothing blooms from what I plant
And barren soil is all I have to til
ljm
As I read the wonderful things others write, I often break into tears because I want so much to write like that, and can't. I try and it comes out contrived and awkward.  It's a terrible thing to be a singer without a voice.  And please don't rush to tell me that's not true.  I'm very aware of my limitations. Just let me cry for a little bit. I'll be OK again tomorrow.
Mar 2019 · 355
RANDOM THOUGHTS 1 - 4
1.  The only escape from this nightmare is death
     But that’s not escape - it’s nothing but a blackout.
     The only hope left flickers and dies
     Like an ill-tended summer campfire
     As the lucky numbers refuse to compute,
     And all that’s left is sand and sun     
     That scorches all attempts to find a way
     To make accommodations to the heat.

      Safe for now inside a fragile stucco igloo,
      What will happen when the statement comes
      That says we can’t afford the ice
      That’s needed to stave off the burn,
      And there’s no shady place to go and hide.
      With no escape to dream filled sleep
      There’s only counting minutes on a clock that                                                          never  moves.                             
                                                                ­                                    
2.   The ragged sleeve is not caught up at night
      And the road ends at a chasm of despair.
      The winds and tides are out of sync
      And morning comes at midnight.
      Writhing in the tangled sheets, I’m
      Thinking thoughts with no way out,
      Of what was always bound to come,
      Riding on another bad decision.

3.   Death will not lure me this night -
      Too cruel to leave him here alone
      Without the necessary tools to live
      And find a road that leads to hope.
      If only slumber was my friend
      And I was not out counting stars
      When it’s too dark to find my way
      And all the nearby world is snoring.

4.   Huddled in a corner with a pen
      The paper blots up tears and ink
      And offers no hope of surcease
      To seeds of panic poised to grow.
      If only a little rain would fall.

ljm
Another tome from a dark period a while ago.  I'm OK now.
Mar 2019 · 168
WARDROBE MALFUNCTION
There once was a lass from Ohio
Who blushed when she said “Me, oh My-oh
I put on my shirt
And forgot my skirt
Now I sit in jail and just cry-oh”
ljm
These days nobody would even notice.
Mar 2019 · 784
NEWCOMER
Walking streets
Where I’m unknown
I stifle sobs
And dab my eyes.
I don’t belong.
I don’t fit in.
There’s nothing here
That smells of me,
That looks like me,
That calls to me.

I climb a hill
To watch the sun
Pour pink and gold
On lacy clouds.
I scan the valley
Full of houses.
Which one is mine-
It’s hard to tell.
they look the same
But I do not.

My footsteps do not
Fit the path
I need to walk
If I’m to find
A welcome here
I worship the wrong
Ideals and ideas
And I must hide
Behind a silent smile
Lest I be ushered out.

I cannot run
I’m here to stay
There is no other
Universe for me.
I’ll choose a
Another middle name-
Chameleon sounds right.
I’ll make them think
I’m one of them
And blend into a life.
                ljm
Another old one (well, 6 mo. old, anyway).  From my "I don't want to be here" period.  I'm better (resigned) now.
Mar 2019 · 424
ADDRESS CHANGE
I say it’s cozy - you say it’s cluttered.
I say it’s comfy, you say it’s crowded.
Two hundred miles from what we knew and loved
Those miles have somehow slipped between us.

You say this place must be bewitched
You put down things, they walk away.
I say your mind is occupied-
You’re not living in the moment.

Hamstrung by a phone line waiting for connection
Someone in India has a hand in our lives
And decides who we can talk to,
Limited now to only each other.

The sun gave a hint of blisters to come,
Then cooled by an unexpected deluge
That turned cardboard cartons to sagging mush
And soaked us as we tried to save them.

They said it rained just ten times a year
But our record for the first two weeks:
Two monsoon pours and 4 more others
While thunder and sheet lightning filled the heavens.

The sky lights up like strobes on crack
While thunder rumbles in the distance
Overture to monster downpour
Dried and gone before the sunrise.

No Welcome Wagon rang our bell
No casseroles appeared
Nothing more than a random wave
To welcome us to this new life.

They said there’s no humidity
So the heat is not so bad
My gauge shows that glass half full
And we’ve been lied to once again.

We put our rubber plants outside
They were quickly cooked to mush.
We salvaged only two leaves each                       Small reward for major effort.

Who can live in such a place
The natives always say it’s lovely.
But nothing we were told is true
And somehow we must find a way.

ljm
I wrote this when we first moved here.  I'm not thrilled with it, but it's all I have at the moment. Forgive me.
Feb 2019 · 689
9 - 5 LIMERICK
There once was a miss from Nevada
Whose job was correcting errata
She did such good work
   Her boss gave her a perk -
In the form of a brand new Sonata.
ljm
Banged out three. This one was the best.
Feb 2019 · 281
RULES
I’m told real poems always rhyme-
Anything else is drivel.
If we abide by that stern rule
Then real music can only be opera.

Real dance can only be ballet
And real paintings photographic.
Why is there so much latitude
In all the other art forms

And no acceptance for blank verse,
Even with fantastic formats,
Even if it makes you cry...
If there is no rhyme, it’s junk.

Everyone who does not rhyme
Quite probably can do it,
But they can write blank verse sublime
If you only leave them to it.
ljm
All done with this topic now.
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