In a world of shrivel and wilt
When what we need is seed and sprout
I am neither gather nor grow
I am wither and rot
TDM
Tag: poem
Hug from Nonna
I hug my Nonna twice a year:
On her birthday
And on mine
But only because I engage
I announce the occasion
Buon compleano!
Lean in
And wrap one arm around her shoulders
I love you
I love you too
A kiss on the cheek
Maybe
But more likely reserved
For milestone occasions
TDM
Lying on a Rock
I disengaged myself
And let every tender vertebra
Feel as pious as
The stone
They were held upon
And reaching overhead
In my supinated situation
I gasped
And let my hands fall to
The pate of the rock
Connecting them like
A halo
Twisting my fingers
Around my own locks
Tangling them between the crown
On my head
Where the coolness of
The stone had met my skull
Supporting it
TDM
Andrew
You were trying to be
a Kerouac
When you led me
from subway to streetcar
To marbled sidewalk
and thought you were adventure
Looking for old doorways on Bay
Where I knew there were none
And you were trying to make me
your Queen Anne’s Lace
So I would be
gentle with your secrets
sooth your eccentricities
and unravel your spirit
But I was the seedling of
a dogwood flower
And led you
From subway to streetcar
To tall grass footpath
And thought I was adventure
In convincing you
to cascade backwards between
dandelion and dew
to match my wavelength
which was unravelling itself between
the blades of grass
as though the meadow were
a maze leading straight
to your disposition
TDM
Summer Heat
I need some opinions on this one. Is it complete or does it have a long way to go? Please comment below with any thoughts. Thank you kindly.
I could tickle the shade
on a day like today,
musky odour (I admit)
emitting from my “delicate” temple
whose flustered
along with my will
to make happy with
they
who step lightly and grin
while I drip
and drop
and drag myself onward
through what seems like concrete Sahara
Child Grin
Here is a very rough poem for which I was hoping to get some thoughts on:
i can tell
when you lean in quite close
that you wear the fragile grin of a child
on your face,
to hide behind gritted armour
has done you well
but you leave a trail of feathers behind
whenever I walk with you,
a hurried look on your face
to peek through fences
and burrow in the mud
excitement for any difference in the day,
what wonderful character that is,
to fill my head with thoughts of
daisies and falling
leaves and perfume
staining the air,
innocent charm that
scoops me up and tosses me
onto a bed of golden leaves
stealing sweet smiles
that become gentler
and soften into tiny baby giggles
as you frame my face with your hands
and lean in quite close
Persons
I get nauseous when you speak
And when you walk
With your head held up high
I worry
For when the rain comes
And wonder
If you will drown.
TDM
Stray
This piece is yet another work in progress. I would appreciate any feedback on composition or completion (is it complete or does it feel incomplete and abrupt).
A stray took to me
Like a fox to a fawn
And in so doing clung to my skirt
With such grip that she
almost tore me loose
From my garment
So instead of resisting
I guided her
along with me
And took rest by a bank
For I knew she would like to investigate
Just as much as I
What company had befallen her
TDM
Daisy
When my daisy
Came to life
I hinged myself forward and tickled her petals
Then plucking her up forcefully
I cradled her and twirled her up overhead
Dangling her between sky and ground
And like a rabid saltshaker
Her pollen milled through the cracks on my fingers
And seeped into my skin.
T DM
Today’s Weather
How intently and with purpose the wind blows
with every gust and turn in direction
it is the sweet laugh of God
combing through my hair
and untangling my scarf.
TDM
Skipping Rocks
I would skip
rocks
with my feet plunged into moss
curl my toes underneath mud
grip myself
turning a stone over in my hand
weighing it with every rotation
to make sure it wouldn’t just
plunk
to the bottom of the brook
though if it did
it would not be lonely
because there are plenty of others
who have
sunk
to the
bottom
and nestled themselves
even after they’ve skidded the rapids.
TDM
