In your eyes,
buried treasures,
seeking an
explorer.
In your eyes,
an innocent
being, seeks
some goodwill.
In your eyes,
space exists and
sheep are counted,
same as clouds.
In your eyes,
the sweetest heart,
its best days
are numbered.
If we could see with eyes like these, that would be something to count on. – mh clay
In nowhere place
I meet up with no one.
I am disguised as
a mirror and no one
is my reflection.
The hours move slow
yet still they are wasted.
I forget the sound
of no one’s voice
and yet it sounds so familiar.
In nowhere place
I discover no one.
I change her name
to artificial light
as she flashes her smile.
The hours continue
to lag as if daylight
savings time keeps
rolling back and I try
a do-over on my life.
You can make a new no one when no one is you. – mh clay
I picked a little fat
Christmas tree
this year. If I had
to compare its
looks to any human,
I would say it looks
a lot like me. It
could use a trim.
I could use getting
a little trim too
around the waist
line. The red, green,
white, blue, and
yellow Christmas
lights look like a
lot of things on
the dinner table
that I like to eat
and drink. Red salsa,
tomatoes, and red wine;
bananas, squash,
and mustard; sour
cream, potatoes,
and white wine;
blueberries, concord
grapes, and blue
beer. The Christmas
lights make the tree
look so good along
with the silver tinsel;
just like I look when
I get dressed up
in my Sunday best.
Trim your tree, your waistline can wait. Merry Feastmas! – mh clay
A message from the radio.
Oh, it’s just a song.
Some break-up lyrics and
a bit of pleading.
I turn the dial for something
else less desperate.
I find nothing to my liking.
The radio just offers
the same old songs that get
stuck inside my head.
A message from a songbird
just outside my window.
I tune in to that for a while.
The bird lyrics soothe me
this morning. It’s probably
just another break-up song.
At least it’s commercial-free. – mh clay
If only my poetry could
bring down my mortgage debt,
I would write a poem a day
for the bankers who own my home.
I write a poem a day and sometimes
two, but mostly for myself.
I never expect a dime out of poetry.
It does not lower my blood pressure.
It did not stop the cancer that
the doctors skillfully treated.
I am just thinking out loud.
No banker would take my poetry as
payment. They would not wipe their
noses with any page I have written.
I am just going to work until I am dead,
and write poetry as well,
until my mind is gone and
the banker forecloses on my home.
Nope, no money; but richer, still. – mh clay
How much would you like
for this toe? It has walked
for miles and knows its way
around. There is still a good
deal of mileage left in it.
This toe will never lead you
astray. You could say it is
a lucky toe. It has avoided
the toe tag and arthritis. If
you are not satisfied, you
could send the toe back. If
you could be persuaded
somehow, I could throw in
the rest of the parts of this
man that come with the toe.
A (win)decent proposal. – mh clay
Don’t take it easy.
You don’t have to be happy.
Rage if you must and
be mournful for what is lost.
Tomorrow is a
new day and there is time to
make things easier.
We are human with many
moods. Pace but don’t tear
up the places you live. Vent
but don’t carry out
acts of violence. I sound
like a contrary
sort, giving advice, when I
should be taking it
easy. I’m still not happy.
It is just going
to take a little bit of
time. Keep fighting. Hope
springs eternal, I heard said.
Straight advice to alleviate your angst. – mh clay
The wait is long
to get your blood
taken out of
you, an hour or
so without an
appointment. I
never learn my
lesson. I wait
every time. I
do not take the
time to pick up
the phone or go
online to make
the appointment.
I pass the time
writing poems
on my phone like
I am today.
Wait not, want not. – mh clay
Mister Arrow
may your aim
not stray to
my eye or
to my heart;
may you split
the apple
on my head.
Give Mister
William Tell
accuracy.
I do not
like pain or
would like to
go blind like
all the folks
elected
to work for
us and not
for themselves.
I have too
much trouble
to worry
about than
to face life
with a hole
in my face.
There’s no Tell-ing, here. I say, “Duck!” – mh clay
I will not go crazy
when my wish is granted.
I may be generous.
I may burn some bridges.
I can’t say what I will do.
Blood is thicker than water.
I hope that turns out to be true.
I could keep it all to myself.
I could go off on my own.
I feel vengeance for no one.
I forgive, but sometimes I cannot forget.
I could leave it all to charity.
I could leave and not look back.
I am uncomfortable with forced smiles.
I will listen to my heart.
I will listen closely.
There is great bitterness in the world.
Everything is going to be fine.
editors note: Wish well, win maybe; whatever is fine as we make it. – mh clay
