Tuesday, January 28, 2014

"Bus Driver"

Precision decision analyst
Spaced-out cushion enthusiast
Green light freshness specialist
Rolling hazard avoidance master
Low speed maneuver maker

Pothole spotter dodger
Foul weather rescue hero
Predawn commuter mover
Destination answer granter

High speed lane wrangler
Blocked road reroute scout
On time departure starter

"A Different Kind Of Spider"

The itsy bitsy spider crawled on my writing pad
Down came my hand and squashed the spider flat
Out came the towel to clean up yucky blob
But this itsy bitsy spider had brothers in the Mob

More itsy bitsy spiders began to weave a web
Out came the silk—they tied up both my legs
Then went my hands and finally my eyes
And the itsy bitsy spiders did ransom me for flies

Monday, January 13, 2014

"For Three-Finger Smiles"

Bright eyes sparkling wide
Joy displayed, full of wonder
Glory—barely contained
Everyone should have one

"For Cursive"

Serif flourishes, beautiful lines
Ink flows and letters roll
A joy to write without stop
Next generation shall not know

"For Adventures Before Dinner"

Captain America, Wolverine waiting
Spider-Dad swings in from work
Powers combined
Planned and executed
Enemies vanquished

"For Electric Blankets"

Plugged in
Warming all night
Curled and cozy
Sleeping just right

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

"Streams"

Hidden in the words
My heart pours out
Everything I see
Is somehow part of me

The way I see it
The way I say it
Giving it all a reason
Changes with each season

Gray clouds overhead
Tilted earth beneath
Winter’s temp begs to fall
And pull me down
  Temptation’s call

Box of clean and of fresh
Another soiled by what passed through flesh
A man, a plan, a canal, Panama!
What the heck?
That’s what happens when pen just rolls

Heavy set and muscles flat
Need to lose that burdensome fat
New Year’s Day—do I resolve
Or trust in God my life to solve?

A waist is a terrible thing to mind
As in a tyrant, grumbling on high
Am I supposed to be fat?
Or can I shed that?

What’s the point, tipped in ink
That marks up paper as I think?
At least it’s not a broken pencil
You know? Pointless

My pen has a ball that rolls
God gave me a call that grows
With each passing hour
My stomach turns and milk sours

I have not met my dreams
They drag their wearied feet
Refusing to get up and run
Or is it me who thinks all is done?

Fourteen years since technical fear
Add a couple since the end year
And now we wait, still here
When are you coming, coming near?
We wait for you, your people dear
Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly near

Where’s the fruit?
Should I turn away from meat?
My belly cries “No!”
But I must wait for God’s “Go!”
Not my decision
  But Yours O God
Shall I, shall I?
Tell me, tell me

"From My Porch"

Golden car
  Three more go
Lonely horse
  Strength restrained, chained
Green trees three
  Defying winter’s grip
Hole in the fence

"A Poet's Stroll"

Tree lined lane
Row of houses green
Celebration of a now gone holiday

Stop sign at a crossroads
Home remaining
Or journey taking?
Two country roads meet
One, a dead end
The other, a loop
Both going nowhere
Turn around
Turn around
Go the other way

Pile of leaves and stones
Mixed with trash
Ought not be

Fire rages
Bright orange
Comfort?
Warmth?
No, trash disposed

Curving around
House for sale

Grounded boat
Cannot float
Holey hull

Fireplug in the woods
Hidden source of power

Chewed out post
Unseen pest
Not the only one

Water trickles
Barely flows
Where do you think it goes?
No one knows

Smoke over water
Presence over people
Flowing, flowing
Going together

Dead tree by water’s edge
Clinging to life
Hope against hope

Crisp leaves underfoot
Crunch, crunch, splunch!
Oops, found a puddle