Friday, October 23, 2009

Visceral Discomfort

When the low notes flowed
from your soul
into the smelly brass.
Swaying, breathing
liquid brown eyes
closed in rapture.
Fingers reaching
for keys,
eyes fixed on me;
always waiting for
the encore.

Summer's End

Air, crisp like the first bite
of a new harvest apple
whiffs of smoke from
a distant fire
A wispy memory of something primal,
Smells like running away weather.

Flat sound of endless water
on pavement
the old timers say
"like a cow pissing on a flat rock".
Wetness like a woman's promise,
for new life in the spring.

Darker earlier,
days grown short.
Later longer.
Green turns gray
Light creeps away
before the end of the day.
And in the endless night
any ray of light
seems so bright.

Night lingers
with cold clammy fingers,
stirs old fears and dread
and sleep, as if dead.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

An Ode, and an update..

Watch for a new segment of blogginess soon. I finally have that great camera phone to capture the unsuspecting Memphricans and plan to add to the human interest story, along with our Philidelphia photo fiend, Lora of "Fever", "Oh the Urbanity" and "Jakezilla", whose brainchild this is.

The link is We will be exploring Memphis on a whole new never seen before light.

So, watch for it.

The writing has been slow, my grand children has taken all of my free time. But I am slowly coming back. Hopefully I still have an audience..

So until then I leave you with a parting gift:

Ode to Kippl-ishious Kit kat kipper

Ever was there a story written,
Of love in a 20 pound package?
With stripe-ity fur pajamas
white footies on front feet
Knee socks in the back.
Explosion of furfat belly
And big pink nipples
Eyes like an owl.
All catittude
except those emabarrassing times
when shes caught
rolling in dogfur tumbleweeds
or scooped up by the humangirl
who hunts her down to cuddle.