• follower to lead

    how can it seem
    echoed streets are safely hidden
    that caroling is for the living
    the ice deer have melted all our hope
    dear
    in a child of God who cannot cope
    here
    for loom of dope the vapors of the fume
    hath your ramped eyes
    the colder still
    as if the oxen tongue of love were wooing, and I had lost my humble guenevere
    at last of all the market places lit
    there isn’t but a Shelley/Keats to writ
    where normally the matinee were
    moving
    I haven’t been a follower to lead
    and if I ever see you drawing
    windows
    building them in boxes tall and square
    there in taking naps to feel your healing
    with my horizontal lines linear
    as if to say she knows no answer
    as if to say she thinks of me quite well
    the fish with side of slaw goes well with Pinot Grigio
    the girl is of a pearl inside her shell.

  • a moon no more

    there silence
    hand shaking sadly
    primrose peace
    steal composure
    for a plea
    my kingdom for remorse
    setting suns aside
    hidden will
    master plan
    a lonely man
    a tide unturned
    a fist full of quip
    make it quick
    set apart
    a heart to be
    alone your own
    relinquish the fish
    recede tenderly
    cowardly
    a moon no more
    would darken skies
    that tell of woe some
    alibis
    have no thought a dimmest doubt
    I am alone a darkest cloud
    hung up in a sky so blue
    alone at midnight without you.

  • he was there

    he smiled encouragement a man of honor
    representing family ethics
    white collar
    mourned the 6 million
    they were martyrs
    Baruch atoi adanoi-as we light the candelabra
    a holy man who hadn’t been to shule
    schools of thought fishes swimming opposite in twos
    upon the Larchmont lawn the morning dew
    he was there but seldom home, were you?
    the evening papers Adli Stevenson
    he believed in him like no other mothers son
    righteous indignation bright external gifts
    all that money could buy-two dollar tips
    cars boats colleges trips
    faithful never able to come to grips
    how he loved horseradish on his gefilte fish.

  • when

    when the painting keeps you from fainting
    paintbrush in the hand
    hand me down from mama
    and the intrepid man
    slight of hand
    onions around the lamb
    makes me feel so humble
    truth is that I can
    right the wrongs of stumble
    across the crooked land
    cook for me a summer feast
    sweet the orange yam
    counterfeit a smile
    for everything I am
    to look on till tomorrow
    for love is felt more than
    the swelter of a lie
    may helpers never die
    remembered Queenie’s apple pie
    a flaky a crust am I.

  • wondering

    moon pearl white
    hung in the depth of night
    vows lift spirit clouds
    water breaks a star is born
    shout embossed golden bevel
    heart soldered bright metal
    lost love brittle
    settle sequence salted buttery
    into tense regard subtly
    haven’t learned the pain of sorrow
    into the night I
    never knew her bliss
    is what I miss
    to honor the badge
    of tribes gone mad inside
    a weakness for pale eyes
    thoroughly wise
    her prayers into hazel skies
    I wonder where I might care
    to feel a calm will bless
    a kin to see her son
    would sense the world his happiness
    of much a thing is won
    address the best inspire him
    to greet the world with everything
    for her little boy
    toiling and triumphing
    there is gold in them there hills
    you did well all his well loved life
    in the moments you may be wondering.

  • his furrowed brow

    carry my body back to France
    if only he would sing
    or stand up on his feet the way
    he danced the night away
    vital and alive at 25
    freed from childhood dark and grim
    married his sweetheart
    from the company of the king
    draped her in mink
    taught her to drink
    baked Alaska made her sick
    on a train from New York to Mexico
    Penny beautiful naive
    Harold passionate extreme
    sports cars travel business
    2 kids and a dog best wishes
    with help to wash the dishes
    6 boxes of cigars at a time
    Macanudo
    Mouton Rothschild vintage wine
    that was a good year
    when we were 12 and 9
    and mother would cook
    her shrimp Kap-lan
    spilling in a little of her Miller
    and Queen’s southern fried chicken
    mashed potatoes and gravy
    Granny Smith apple pie and
    lemon meringue
    I was a fat little kid-still am
    The Rani June 1-2-and 3
    Driftwood Lane the cottage by the bay
    mom catching every sunrise
    with her camera, many moons flashed
    before her eyes
    and dad became quiet
    relieving doubt and strain
    to sooth his furrowed brow
    he made all our dreams possible
    i coiling ropes salute you
    on your bow
    sail on, Dyer Dow.

  • the morning after

    fried chicken smothered in gravy
    lives put on hold unheard
    to grieve would make me regret her
    conceived to help her feel better
    relieved to see the beauty in a girl
    her eyes the bluest seas
    to walk the grounds with tulip trees
    how high the mighty graceful branches
    caught the light swaying in prayer
    for mama and papa and two baby bears
    the dining room formal the Beacon Hill Chairs-
    a china birdcage without a bird hanging on a heavy chain in front of
    the bay window
    told of life on Devonshire a family doing well
    bitter herbs were Harold’s words fell apart our world
    we weren’t doing too well-the tin man had no heart
    a man who cannot love will not be well nor smart
    we had cars vacations yachts expectations
    Glenfiddish imported from Scotland
    Dimple scotch from the UK
    Tanqurey gin the best martini
    Boodles gin don’t forget the olive
    will never forgive the olive
    Mouton Rothschild
    red like his blood curdling screams
    Dom Perignon-
    how fortunate we felt we’d been
    as ducks take to water
    as Christ changed water into wine
    dad should have drunk the holy water
    and not have drowned his sorrows
    for his lifetime
    it wouldn’t have been so bad
    but for the prescription drugs
    the combination turned him insane
    on a nighty basis a life too pained
    never asked for help
    it was too late he couldn’t stop blaming
    the abused became the abuser
    his mother the accused
    dazed dementia he smiles and waves
    forgetting a past
    he never remembered
    the morning after.

  • he never wore blue jeans

    in the besiege of days when your
    cold hands entrap an older man
    acceptance enwrapped in
    bittersweet memory-all the world
    is your cage to step the path of rage
    so long unsure where nothing seems
    to matter anyway yet for you
    a Titan manufacturer of goods
    irreverent so greatly misunderstood
    standing for the worker as he would
    decisive respectful of people in the know
    spiteful of every enemy choosing his battles
    keeping his demons well hidden inside the family
    emotional deeply damaged big daddy
    a partner for his Penny give her a Cadillac
    business where he thrived/relationships made him scream
    he never wore blue jeans
    off-beat never found his niche
    thought his mother was a bitch
    had a soft spot for his brother
    but hated his sister in-law
    because she thought he was too rich
    there were cars and bars and family trips
    there were yachts that docked-the 5pm dewers sips
    a cooler dueler duly noted singer bread winner
    would be hard to find
    dancing the night in time to unwind with his
    beautiful wife
    and the kids were as loved as rare bottles of wine.

  • weep for papa

    conflict
    inner turmoil spoils the child
    introspection in expression
    aging changes digression
    mad to wild
    a presence to inhabit
    a hostel roaming smile
    in whiles on Manhattan island
    to best the dire day
    I lay low alone
    and have it out with words as if to say
    the king of swords sent me away
    and I am so much bluer
    no messages to woo him
    depression is a cruel thing
    I thought I knew him
    alone under stars cold blank bite
    I grieve that nothing stays the same
    an eve to weep for papa
    as mama plays the game
    dancing to an enchanted tune
    how fortunate the fame
    he holds her arm will not let go
    the Yankee and his dame.

  • penchant peace

    penchant peace and heart purveys release of what her mind downplays
    these daring days a symphony for the elderly/a riot she is elegance
    dancing in light of harmony, an artist creates
    dreams nocturnal streams, baptized by her right to flourish,
    nourish her tender love, welcome the summer
    true to the season outfitted for comfort complications
    corrupt her upset her till sunset has her sink into the
    sofa she owns her smiles and frowns one minute to
    American Idol-she misses this weeks NY Times-
    daughter is crazy loves her anyway lazy and mean to Penny
    but she loves her yuman bean-it’s simpler than it seem,
    laughing with her kid till June gets her goat, then mom wants to take
    it on the lamb-and then I wrote as dad would say, trying to hit every
    note, and the greek chorus
    will come towards her in the morning, mother is bored she looks to the
    fickle finger of fate like a baker of cakes filling it
    with filling frosting whatever it
    takes, relating to her environment
    like a fireman putting out fires
    as the days inspire in the mend
    of her heart that breaks to lose
    her friend, chalk it up to experience,
    her art is her significance.