thirty poems

small pictures small poems

     poems 2023.04.09 to 2023.05.12

     learning to be small

then and now
the year when winter came

the week it snowed, covering the street

the day you walked to the store, alone

the hour you came to our gate, opened it

the seconds waiting you to come inside

the moment you were in my arms

one branch
one branch that didn’t come home with me

one branch that stayed on its tree

one branch that slept in the snow

one branch unafraid of the dark

one fallen leaf sticking to my shoe

you need to imagine more

more than you can see

more than from your balcony

more than bending down along the path

more than grandmother implied

more than Light following you

pencil paper scissors
whittle some, make a yellow point

make a mark, draw a line

draw a curve, make them lips that move

words on paper, you’ve wondered, haven’t you

what to say, happens above the page

scissors make it honest

if I had a tail
I could dip it in the soup

I could reflect your better self

it might taste like butterscotch on your tongue

I’d tease your feet.   please please, not so close

I could forgive like I should, everything, everyone

then, maybe me.   swoosh

tall this much no more
a stick with tadpoles in the mud

jeans rolled up above the knees

bare toes wriggle into silt

oval black bodies, ribbon tails scattering

it feels odd to be so big

change changes everything

broken gets a bandage

broken words take more work

broken is how we begin to count

broken in two, feeds twice as many now

she goes this way, he goes the other way

broken into two means twice as much
image: Timon Studler, train station

some stories need be repeated, over and over
I pray, to remain inside this story

wisdom is to understand, those stories that hold onto us

we all have desires, even when hidden from sight

can you imagine, the loneliness?

love is something we come to by grace

let me be my own true child

gone fishing
she had a thread

the thread had a hook

he was a fish

the ocean was big, very big

he found her thread, swallowed it

then what

dream said this
do I exist outside this shell, no joke

I believe in you, not so much myself, probably a lie

no ill intent, just history, just habit, you see

one body is not enough, or way too much

resolving dreams is not casual attire, but

these are the clothes I have

fork no spoon
a fork in the road, wrong way round

no spoon anywhere in sight

moving from many to few, fewer

no doubt that memory leans, however

who decides what page gets read aloud

feet sweetly shuffle dust, we go

roots going
where do roots go when you move the tree

maybe stay where they are.   old folk don’t like change

maybe they dissolve into birds.   fly higher

maybe sprout fingers, playing in the dirt

counting is like memory, going the other way

but then I’m no tree.   maybe a shrub
     12 & a half

mommy was a tree
mommy please come out

someone lost the key, was it you

catharsis is an awfully big word

this isn’t purgatory, no not yet, whisper please

mommy, if you can’t come out, may I come in


pearls, that’s what they were

thinking it was just another rainy day

thought some daylight landed unheard

or hail.   hail likes it here.   gathering

swift feet sheltering above the waterline

clouds landing like a lion roars

make fire
rub any two words together

imagine no choice.   falling free

whisper desire into ears of wheat

be father like stone.   a seed

be mother like rain.   illuminate

fire was shadow first

shifting shape is other than what you’d think

half an edge has fewer predators.   shallow then

duck into the oncoming wave, mother said

just another curving shadowed shape

like grandmother Janet did, wave

when you knock at the door, the door opens

this is the symbol sitting at your side, reverence

no page is written because the universe is not yet done

mountains whisper your name.   heads bowed.   gratitude

His Holiness the fourteenth Dalai Lama of Tibet

walk with me

existence is generous
after life, you could be a rock,

you could be a mountain top,

you could be swimming in a creek,

you could be in a pocket,

gathered there by a small young boy,

you would be a happy rock

writing is like this
there, right there, I’m pointing at the spot

now I’m waiting for words to swiftly unendingly

skillfully insightfully appear, like molecules

each and every one arriving to throngs of

good cheer all around, maybe a standing ovation

oh wait, four in the morning and I’m out of milk

one two
one sky.   the same everywhere.

one sea.   filling every melancholy.

one earth.   the heart of every instinct.

one breath.   one life.   astonishment.

one Light.   carries forth identity.

one love.   belonging to none, but one.

imagine this
to imagine is to include being afraid

to imagine gives yourself away

to imagine is to make possible

to imagine is making you

to imagine is seeing you

to imagine is loving you

no counting this time, and ready

close your eyes
ballet begin

close your eyes

see inside
then move
up from
below two
three and
deeper yet
touch then
so free

eyes closed

something beautiful
remain inside
your eye
you move
you dance
and one
and two
mean every
inch you
swing swing
stretch to me
good that’s good
strong feet
and land
again be
at ease

message to my readers
there is whisper underneath words

no alarm, it is the wind, loving you

listening becomes

all my poems are meant personally

personally, from me, is all I know

personally, to you, is all I want to know


violet speaks first time
violet decided, she wanted to change color

her voice was changing, more consonants

they called her Spring.   she felt herself immune
some day I think I’ll say this bowl is full

not one more drop

a ripe peach you’re thinking about
transformation, what you do

imagine water, flat and, mirror like

imagine your breath, reaching into wind

imagine a peach, ripe, ripples kissing your toes

no matter what words, imagine an ocean

imagining you

I swear
promise the door, safe passage, your open palm

promise the chair, forgiveness to broken thoughts

promise the stairs, not to scuff your feet or toes

promise the child, everything that is this world

promise sky, blue, and your good breath

promise the sea, your life like tide

a very very small instant of truth
       what’s come over me
look, look at the world, all of it

everywhen and everywhere, so

many lives lived and living.
billions.   how could I ever choose

who to be.   but maybe I did.
this one.           me.
I think that was pretty fucking brave all things considered.

forever then
She stands in silent stone, I stand bleeding, warm.

She is gone.   I am here.   touch.   I breathe, I respond.

who’s got wisdom now.   I’ll lose mine, soon enough.

I used to admire permanence.   I did.   past tense.

what is forever now.   uncomfortable?

what was before, is now and
dark matter, meaning, we don’t know.
but something.   we’re pretty sure.   then
spider webs.   no light, but Light gathering.
stars, then rocks flung all round about.
then fish, then us.   we were from the
beginning.   implied, you see.   who and
where is that intention do you think.

do     you!          hear it whispering
image:   Cleopatra

sheltering     this pacific grace
I was here.   when the storm arrived.   I was here.

not long walking here.   alone.   well, not alone.   wind touching me.

making me more real, more like the found ocean inside of me.

each wave, a horse, white mane painted face.   continuous.

best shelter is a roof, no walls.   company needs enter unafraid.

no judgment cast.   only rain on my face.

here at the end of things

the end of doubts, the end of fears

returns a face.   our open eyes.   we see.

Beauty.   she who was ever at our side.

speak honestly.   you know her face.

for a time, you believed in lies.


open heart like a window is.

beauty is a choice.

7 thoughts on “thirty poems

  1. I found you through Bridgette, I have a doctor’s appointment so I only read through number 9, but you write beautifully. I am going to click follow and check out more when I have time!

    Liked by 2 people

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