Hurry The Hanging

Sitting in this wooden home surrounded by creaking.
Those incessant wood sounds triggered by
a walk a wind a thought
The individual wood veins sit suspiciously silent
supporting the weight

Destroyed love hangs everywhere.
Attached to remodeled houses along the avenues of living
Looping around elementary school brains during the freedom of recess
Heavy in the air of dark beer-smelling bars
Branded on the mid-aged human purchasing farmer market food  

Destroyed love disappears the longer it hangs.
Dissipating steadily in fits and starts
Fleeing the scene of emotional shards
Melting away inconsistently
Corroding and eroding so life can sneak in



- artwork by Georgia O'Keeffe
- mailed to New Hampshire - 

Trees are Trees are

sometimes trees are just trees

standing there watching the ants
eating rain shedding leaves growing thicker skin
some get naked in winter

standing there in their splintered shapes
their strength streaks underground in avenues of curves
those urban trees have one advantage over the forest trees:

watching humans live while they kill themselves



- artwork by Gisela Colon
- mailed to Massachusetts - 

Cacophony Demolition

Talking takes the sting from a fight
deletes it probably never
and deposits it away inside

That sting pulses with venom created from within
produced by the alchemy of external influences
and internal dictums
The sting can rip a functioning human
into a dysfunctional puddle of confusion

That bird standing on the tip top of the lamp post
has survived solely by its evolved instincts
its song has no sting

That song humans sing
at times has too many notes
informed by sugary nonsense
steered by fuzzy money
the note to build on is singular without point




- artwork by 1010 - 
- mailed to Rhode Island - 

Kitchen Reflections

Study the spoon and find round impressions
     distorted like thoughtless views.
Cold pans and pots awaiting work
     like minds watching television news.
Note the corner for kibbles and nestled dog fur
     unhidden like a natural laugh.
Small power motors empowering cooking tools
     just as scents awaken the brain's photograph.

Water runs on and on then off
     dedicated to usefulness - a parenting dream.
A messy drawer inhabited by junk
     parallels the sparkling ideas we have yet to scheme.
Imagine nocturnal drinking-glass coffee-cup battles
     silly yet resembles the petty elephants held within.
Finally a click of the light switch sounding off or on
     enabling sustenance day or night again.



- mailed to Connecticut - 
- artwork by Frank Stella - 

Slightly Faster

Riding while crashing into bumps
The wheels absorb hits
while the bum puckers

Traveling alone
a single mind on two wheels is allowed to wander alone
Barely piloting the terrain
lays a pathway for carelessly exploring the brain

Purple frame with yellow rims flash by
recognized from past roadways
Pedaling while steeped in dream

the road enables explorations of inclinations
toward a better state
Bicycles pedal forward
propelling lives ahead too



- artwork by Richard Artschwager - 
- mailed to New York - 


Curving perfectly around bones and veins and vessels and things
it grows, self-heals, and is resilient
keeps innards dry, yet gets wet happily

So soft at youth, so telling with age
it has color - color that in some minds separate
while others rejoice from the variety and beauty

People are covered by it
a joy to touch when love is involved
bless those doctors who must touch to heal, even when decrepit

Defies full understanding
in millennia colors adjust as needed - for climate
this age, hues preposterously and shamefully build barriers



- artwork by Francis Bacon
- mailed to New Jersey - 

Darkness Seen Through Light

Woman leaves her home.
Waits on a sidewalk
for a ride to arrive.
She is blind.

Am I blind,
conjuring mystical scenarios that never occur.
Not listening. Listening too intently. Helping when not asked.
Call me blind I suppose, for those.

But not like the woman, real blind.
Note her deliberate routine
weekly, daily, decidedly.
I see her dark vision through my lit vision.

Wonder why my blindness envelops me.
Issues appear obvious once I see the understanding;
breaking my back to understand.
When I see, the woman, it encourages vision.



- artwork by Christopher Payne
- mailed to Maryland - 


Money carves a blurry path, muscling through rivers of unknowns - 
Illuminate that. Bury this. Ignore those. Amplify what..
Cunning money, 
with all its coldness,
performs chores without breathing.
Disingenuous, hmmm, but accepted as currency.

That river's current pokes slippery hands into the invisible air,
offering free money, selling freedom.
The current has deliberate, diabolical intent.
But another currency exists. An emotional one.
Debilitating and exhilarating when allowed to flow -
emotional currency. Spend it. Save it. Let it move everything.



- artwork by Bridget Riley
- mailed to Pennsylvania -

Why Do

why do we do it

I do it to be around beauty - art mostly, imagination usually.

To experience good and troubled times with a select few - let's call them family.

To have an impact - though very few do, or realize to.

To generate goodness - a multi-faced target.

To give my best - to any thing I can do.

why do you do it



- artwork by Alexander Calder... -
- mailed to Michigan - 


I'm lucky to have you, he says
How do you mean, they say
You can take me there when I cannot, he says
Yes I will, they say
You eat with me and think to me, he says
I am all here for me and you, they say
You respond to my touch and tales, he says
My stories intertwine, first slowly then intricately, with you, they say
There is trust when you feel me, they say
You increase and decrease my heart, and rate, he says
You are the evolving one for me, he says
I like when our minds brawl, they say
You brawl and I bawl, feeling that sinking internal ache, he says
We construct histories, extending our reach, they say
I know you. I just want to look at you now.




- artwork by Yayoi Kusama - 
- mailed to Wisconsin - 

Catching The Reveal

The Reveal sits at this desk when I write.
Tapping tinkering mumbling aloud, just
waiting for the sparrow to transfer a rhyme.

Eyes close, open, seeing zero in front,
yet begin finding the Reveal
suspiciously perched just behind.

Slow slow Reveals satisfy the starving artist type.
But Reveals come fast as hummingbirds too,
to be worked and worked and worked into.

People will sometimes reveal themselves.
The pace may vary, very fast to very slow.
In time the parrot sings, revealing songs to the listening.



- artwork by Lakin Ogunbanwo
- mailed to Illinois -