Poetry Here (Mostly)

Archive for August, 2012

A Kid Out West

While we play from morning until long after supper,

hotter than a million jalapenos, fire

keeps Dad away from home, he’s been gone all summer.

Fans whirl hot breezes, air blows cooler at the malls,

getting soaking wet is what we kids desire,

sick of kicking soccer balls, and those skateboard falls.

No one wants to drive us to a pool or the sea,

so, like Dad, I grab the hose and spray a shower;

we splash ourselves and fling mud to the sky and trees.

Mom sent friends home, ran my bath, rubber ducky floats.

I sink boats, melt soap that smells like Mom and flowers.

Bubbles gargle throat, hope my belly doesn’t bloat.

I’ll be in second grade, when we go back to school;

this year, I’ll do my work, and try not to be bad,

Mom will be glad, and I’ll be proud to see my Dad.

When 7 Comes Up

 Julia’s Place: What is 100WCGU?

I am attempting the weekly challenge to create a 100 + 7 word story from the first sentence below. Even more challenging is figuring out how to link it to Julia’s site.

Would 7 prove to be too much? At 17, while drinking Seagram 7 mixed with 7-Up, I did not stop to think.

That September I’d be a high school senior. One July evening, my best friend and I took the bus to O’Brian’s, a seaside hangout for college kids. Before I emptied my glass, I felt young and shy. Soon, two upper classmen took interest.  When we were all quite liquored up, we divided into couples.

Inside, we danced romantically slow. Outside, he tried to get too close. But, just in time, I threw up.  Later, I felt lucky that 7 did prove to be too much.

How Now Brown Cow

Now, no escape,

nowhere to go,

living or long dead,

nothing but Now.


Unborn, or toddling,

immature, ripe, preserved,

dying, future, past,

nothing but Now.


Memories, hopes,

regrets, longings,

news at eleven,

nothing but Now.

Much in common,

Now and God,

nothing without Now,

not even God.

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