Happy Halloween - mwhahahaha

For Beebs

Where You Write

with your thumbs
unfold secrets until
they fly in your face 

open your mouth 
suck in deep 
seep become blood
become mucous

the grey in white bones
veins beneath mylar skin
absorb night until
day is abandoned

grow moons for eyes
be owl in the fir
trade skin for feather

swoop

Shipwrecked - Pat Boran

Shipwrecked

It used to be simple:
shipwrecked, you turned the boat over
and started from scratch,
your new home the nave
of a church, its prow pointing back
over the ocean
towards your previous life.
You lived with the loss,
did what you could, carried on.
You learned from mistakes,
your foolish belief
in the big talk of others;
you built things from bits
and from bones, what the sea offered up.
Now you're convinced
every sail is your saviour,
every noise is a plane
crossing the vastness of ocean
over and back, all these years later
still searching for you, the sole
survivor, waiting to tell them precisely
where it all went so wrong.

Pat Boran

The Next Life 

Friendship IXX

by Khalil Gibran

And a youth said, "Speak to us of Friendship."

Your friend is your needs answered.

He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.

And he is your board and your fireside.

For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."

And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;

For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.

When you part from your friend, you grieve not;

For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.

For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let your best be for your friend.

If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.

For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?

Seek him always with hours to live.

For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.

And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.

For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

A true friend stabs you in the front.

by Oscar Wilde

Players only love you when they're playing

-Fleetwood Mac

Some Form of Grace

He at the kitchen counter
carefully dices fresh tomatoes 
from our summer garden.
The simple things 
have kept us going-

and for that I finally
have to give someone
thanks.

Barbados, Here I Come........

A is for Anonymous

Don’t forget

her

metaphor

eyes

full of poetry

unwritten

wind

blown words

made from scratch.

You may be fooling

yourself:

life 

only appears

to change