The poetry of daily life
Ordinary not sublime
We spend the day together
More than killing time

Movies are companions
1987. Roxanne.
Susan Darlene Meek
I wanna be your man

Still fond of little Reno
Sledding in the snow
Black smoke in the sky
O we O we O!

                     So ...

O Lord
I lay it all before You
As I did yesterday

But this time
My eyes
Surely
Remain open.

Us... With The Rest Of The Unfinished Poems
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a secret box on a high shelf in the locked closet of my mind
is where I keep my dreams
of me and you...
me
comfy living in your
too big shirt
you
bare chested and
doing what you do...

smiling softly in my direction
simmering gazes and
kisses in passing
while...  at our table
in our special place...
I quietly watch quiet you
and
write poems...

simple and hazy and softly lit dreams
of things that we will never do...
For me only...
in the treasured place of
my unfinished poems
and my
rhymes that don't rhyme
is where I keep
my dreams of
me and you

To bend the waist is humility
That way you can pick up the truth
Kneeling down is obedience
That way you can practice the truth.

An elephant on my working-table
do you say impossible?
Use your imagination:
I'm referring to plastic toy-model!

You call me your dog,
your *****, your fool,
hurling words like stones
to shatter my heart.

I wag my tail anyway,
smiling through trembling lips,
fetching scraps of kindness
from the shadow of your hands.

You call me useless,
a beast beyond learning,
but I only want to please you—
to sit, to stay, to love.

Even as you turn away,
your voice cracking the whip,
I crawl through every wound,
bearing the weight of your name
like a leash around my soul.

For to be your dog
is still to be near you,
and I, the fool,
would bleed to feel you call me mine.