letter to R.

never sure when being foolish. maybe always, so it always looks the same? this letter meant for one specific person. but I do have a purpose in this life and I would say this to more of you.
so here… please.

to live a beautiful life, what does that mean? is it necessarily pleasant from the inside looking out? still, what a sight to see. you said yourself, “confronting the wonder of it all”.

to me, to me, that has meaning in its bones.

I try, I’m learning I hope, to sing that experience back to you. two whale songs in the far far sea?

been a stack of months, my legs dangling over a precipice. I think my wisdoms not all so wise as I thought. not bad, but life has something more real, more dear. I’ll settle for being a decent man.

April 4 beingness draft elemental SECOND BOOK voice

the nature of air

          you are but a whisper on the lips of God.
          as a whisper, you pass on ever so soon,
          like a line of poetry written on the waters of creation.
          yet the greatness of a whisper is that it is passed on…
                    Charles P. Thorp.

wind breathes the whole world to your face

all of it, all

imagine, imagine how that is

because, because it is real, it is

all that is, a catspaw whisper on your ears

it is touching the skin of your face

it is tasting your mouth, the inside of you

it is breathing, you

Sahara blazing into space.  that forest sea-breeze cove that
no one yet has found.  that park down two blocks when you were
only this much tall.  a field of unbound wheat visible after climbing
the low hills crest.  the place where you first felt yourself alone.
stone and salt and gulls inside the wind.

your lovers kiss between the sheets. your lover twenty years ago.
that baby you touched inside its damp eager grasp.

your mothers breath



neil reid


revised 2019.10.13  (inc. the former title, breathing)

bodies child edited List poem poems REVISED SECOND BOOK voice wants

a real live boy

I just wanted to be a real live boy.

I just wanted to dance, but refused.

I wanted to be bigger than me.
I wanted to let go of that bench.
I wanted a father who was not. a sky around my arms.

I wanted threads to connect not bind.
I wanted to be not alone, but was, by my word.
I wanted a grilled cheese sandwich.

I want our distance to melt like sugar does.
I want poems to make a difference. like meals do.
I want my child to grow. tall corn reaching the feast.

I want this poem in a pie.

I want seeds to be my feet. you will find me in weeds. everywhere.

I want dawn to be fresh turned dirt. new meanings eager to be. and are.

I want close to be ripe apples on your limbs.
I want discovery to matter more than measured history.
I want dreams to keep their sleep. let eyes answer more than doubts.

I want the world to change because I asked. by world I mean you.
by change I mean raise your hand.

I want your world to look exactly like you. I want leaves that rise and fall.
I want to share this poem with someone reading me.

I want words better spent upon your lips.

I want what is to be. I will call it home.

I want wanting to be as water is.

I want a world bigger than my imagination. your face in each dawn cloud.

imagine feet kissing earth.

imagine children being found, not lost.

imagine no discomfort without mending embrace.

imagine when you speak heart the world listens you.

imagine blooms like waves. and the sea.

imagine enough. that is who you are.

imagine your voice contains what you want life to be. make it so.

my legs are trees that walk.
my arms are feathers rooted in sky.

my thoughts do what windows do.
my feelings are water. and clouds.

my fingers are painting curious.