Je ne Parle pas Français

I don’t speak french. How can I say it any other way? It’s hard to be understood in a world where communication hardly ever makes sense. Harder still when most of us speak a different language. Half the time it’s even when we speak the same language that we can’t understand each other. I think I find myself more and more able to understand people that I can’t understand more than the people I technically can. How’s that come to be? How’s that come to faux pass? Amusez-vous bien, mes petits poissons rouges!


Hallowed Fields

all these holes never filled

soil never tilled

fields lie fallow

foul beings draw tallow

the wight’s barrow

overseen by the sparrow

filtered through shadow

not quite so bad, though

evermore, nevermore

love lost, forevermore

i spin a spider’s web

with ariadne’s thread

my head’s spatter

as crows gather

caw, caw, caw, they shriek

ever so softly, i hear them speak

above the moon in sky so high

stars above they crowd and sigh

holes and holes they lie unfilled

fields and fields they lie untilled

dying, dying, dying, dead

hanging on, by a shred

something heard, something said

lying awake, in my bed

weathered flying dutchman’s creak

hold thy tongue, lest thou speak

head in hand, turned to beak

some forlorn feather, some antique

the crows they shriek

and shriek they speak

help us, sir, best you can

i’m sorry, friend, my biggest fan

“i’m sorry,” cried he

“it’s alright,” lied she

a clever hand

some sprightly band

fallow, fallow, fallow, fallow

pirates waiting for the gallow

crying, spying, so slightly dying

“i don’t miss you,” she was lying

Playing in the Snow

Good morning, everybody! Another wonderful day filled with cold. Good luck to everyone–I hope no one loses power today. I have another little poem today that’s in the spirit of an icy snow day.


Ice man

these fallen timbers

sum of somber shivers

it is very cold out today 

almost makes you want to wish the snow away

silent snow, nothing to say

these cobbled stones

amid avian tones

clocktower. clocktowers. in the distance

ticking. tocking. across the expanse

something, somewhere has put you in a trance

how frigid the sights

how tasteful the noise

something in the rearview bites

acting with spectral poise

hungry for more

but oh so sore

play that fiddle boy

but careful now, that’s no toy

you best hope to bring me joy

Feb 3rd, 2022

Well, today’s my first post. Weird to me to be actually posting these somewhere. I wrote this one this morning while I watched the cold overtaking the street outside.


Nightmares

streetlights hang over freshly fallen snow

it’s quiet, so quiet…

crystal falls, no seeds to sow

there’s something there, can you spy it?

fields of ice and billows of cold

as birds go south

searching for some hand to hold

finding naught but downturned mouth

lying there, asleep at night

frigid, freezing

dreaming, discouraged, with all your might

something seen, not so pleasing

frozen branches

play with windows

missing tranches

and biting wind winnows

legions of little limpid structures

covered street and hiding stone

slipping and sliding at all the junctures

spied through the window, all alone