When Dona died
The spring grasses yellowed,
Our cheeks ashen.  Her hair became a little redder
In our minds.  The boy and the man strained

Under the constraints
Of communication.  What was the sign
For "everything will be alright"?  "Fine,"
Yes, you should say, "Fine."  That is better.

Better than just, "okay".

Heart tissue in space
After just one month
Shows signs of aging.

Perhaps, this indicates
That we humans should
Keep our feet on the ground.

At least metaphorically.

I would come
And take it away with me.
But I know that you need it
To live and feel and breathe.
So, I'll leave it for now
As long as you remain
Next to me.

Yes, I would come
And take it away with me.
But I know that you need it
To live and feel and breathe.
So, I'll leave it for now
As long as you remain
Next to me.

The heart of the matter?
The heart matters,
The heart of matter.
Plays on words, these.
Yes, I call your name,
Remain, remain, remain!
For your heart matters.

The foolish say, "It is far better
To make friends with the beast
Than to be eaten by it."

They never realize until it's too late
That the beast will eat them anyway.
In the end, they were kept alive

As food to devour in lean times.
Lean times come to all beasts
Because they consume everything, until

They must turn to the fool in reserve.

Sun burns away the day, Night is born,
Wrapped in blankets of clouds, handsome lad.

Tell the stars that I am jealous of the moon,
For with the dying of each new day;

Crystal orb with swaddling of mist and light,
Nursemaid that she is-

She attends, O precious delight,
The infant Night!

Her burial place is in the records.
We have her lovely name.
She was a benefactor of the friary,
Thus, a prominent soul.  Agreed.
Her story, lost forever.  O, what a shame.
Nothing more is known of Emma.
Here's her 5 minutes of fame!

Criticize me if you will
For the brevity of my succinct verse.
I try to say what is needed in few words.
For I am a lazy poet not wanting to labor
Unending, nor burden you, dear reader.

What lovely sound
The thunder-drums
Which beat across
My horizons

And the gentle sounds
Of pattering rains
Echo through all seasons
And I'm grateful for the reasons

As the gutters overflow
And rushing fill up holes
With nowhere else to go
Spill into ditches and drains

Onward to the sea it slows
So that all can drink and so
On and on the cycle goes
And all earth should know

The reason for love shown

Even amidst a hard-scrabble unfair life
Joy finds its way into hearts, onto faces
Within the laughter of families, and children.

They are the loved.  

Joy embraces love of others,
It is rocked and cradled and nurtured.  And,
It is reflected in the love of the loved,

And resides with those loved.

One set of blue eyes
Were crazy and to be feared
The other set of blue eyes
Were loved and revered

Beneath the one set
Was a mouth that screamed
Beneath the other set
Was a mouth with gentle smile

I explored,
I circumnavigate your world
And wondered from where you came?
I danced around the moment,
Spoke with raspberry lips,
Stroll up to you, tall, lanky you
With swaying on my hips.

You were older,
So should have known better.
But I tantalized and teased,
Stirred an emotional need
To say the least, physical.
I can still feel the sensations
Of the moment we began.

You signed in that gentle way and whispered,
"Come with me."

A paroxysm of emotion takes me by the throat;
"Will you go?" "Will I go?"

Will our mystery die?

Jeffery Brown, reporting the news every night
Looks at the world through multiple lens, and writes
Poetry from a layer of glass glued to a layer of glass
Which has separated slightly.  Magnifications at last
Divided and shared as divvied-out treats.

http://video.pbs.org/video/2365488825/

Let my eyes drink in
The color of your eyes
Let them encase in amber
Your sweet smile
Come, sit with me, awhile

Let me dip into the well
Of your full love
As I thank the stars above
For the depth and breath
Of what you are

You fought like a madman,
For that last coke crumb

You scraped and scraped.
And, yes, desired the warmth

Spreading through your veins
Ah, your favorite longtime love.

You popped pills, did crank,
And drank and drank, and drank

But you washed it all down
With our tears.

I watch a line of birds move in sync
As if they are sketching an eyebrow
Across some heavenly maiden's face.

As the sun slowly rises on the horizon
Its color daubs on her face and cheeks.
The clouds become her apple cheeks.

The sunrise palette paints her pink
And a fiery sun rises to becomes
The tint for her pouty full lips.

Higher the sun rises in the sky, and
Filters streams in waves of golden hair
With long locks about her comely face.

So long as we keep that child-like quality
Of the innocence to see the things unseen
We are enabled with a sense of wonderment

And the ability to see the world anew,
To imagine, to dream, to continue on
In the persistence of hope.

Like vehicles zipping by on the freeway
in the distance
The many shore birds glide

The yellow haze from Saharan dust hangs
in these skies
Bird and man alike breathe in the remains

The garden squash is smoldering in the heat
its blooms struggle
As we all seem to whither in heat and repeat

I sit with the AC blaring and under a fan
still melting
Like cotton candy on a hot, dry sand

Today, there's much obscenity and conspiracy
eagerly accepted
But "climate change" is considered insane

With death threats for the scientists bandied about
miss led and miss guided ones
Spew vile foolish reproofs with loud shouts

Yet, even though their labor seems in vain
they continue the message
With dignity, diligence, and love for fellow man.

Life can be so very pleasant, as we putter along.
At times we must stop to remind ourselves
That it too soon could all be gone.
So, grab the gusto of each experience and reflect
Because this life is far too short, by heck!

I pitched myself into a sea of memories.
The stormy waters washed over me.

I was adrift in a raging storm,
Strange as it was, I did not feel alarmed.

As the swirling waters rocked me
In the agitation I began to feel free,

Free to hear, free to speak, to be still,
Free to feel, or to just to be real.

That in which I had been trapped so long
Suddenly became my enduring song,

Of life and love, of anger and happiness
Even when it all seemed like a huge mess.

I only had to embrace all memory as joy,
In that, the slice of each makes the whole.

Each second, right here, right now, exciting moments are unfolding as if coming into flower.  Breathtaking wonder, its cadence rising,
modulated and rhythmic, making the heart quicken.

Who, for example, can resist a rainbow or not
thrill to the cataract's roar?  Before God died in your eyes,
He wrapped us in the safety of a blanket made of moral fiber;

And set us on our way to look upon this beguiling and buzzing     beauty.  Life in a candy store, ripe for the taking!
This fullness of manifestation is not lost on one looking.

You choose the vehicle,
You choose the road.

Can you really complain

As you go tearing down
An interstate headed for where?

Long life equals a safe drive.

You choose the vehicle,
You choose the road.

Can you really complain

As you go tearing down
An interstate headed for where?

Long life equals a safe drive.

Many more roads, lanes, and highways
There are to travel, my friend.

Slow down and cruise.

Turn up the music, put on some Blues.
Listen and just groove.

It's a long journey, friend,
If you're smart.  Luck has little to do with it.

As "they" say, "Enjoy the ride!"

Like a chorus of angels singing slightly off key
In the chilly morning it builds as the sun rises.
Some mystery passes from one to the next, silent.
Just how, who can say? Their bodies lift in unison.
There is nothing awkward about them.  Poetry!
I was quite unprepared for the glorious spectacle.
Thousands.  Like watching a ballet of slow wing beats.
7000 miles they follow their heritage of millenniums;
And they rest upon the banks of this river.

The scent of my love
Was rose and sandalwood.
Yours was patchouli,
Which you rubbed into
Your mustache and beard.
And with each kiss
We created our perfume,
The Scent of Our Love.

The scent of my love
Was rose and sandalwood
Placed in strategic locations.

Yours was patchouli,
Which you rubbed into
Your mustache and beard.

And with each kiss;
Each time we made love
We created our perfume,

The Scent of Our Love.

He would recall long after she had gone
The scent of Rose lingered in his nose
And in his fondest and warmest memories.

When they met it had been a bright spring day,
A day that assures you that winter is indeed gone.
The air was laden heavily with honeysuckle vine,

He remembered.  Yet, all that he could sense since
Was Rose.

Their eyes
Are glazed over
With their hate,
Thick scales formed.

The voice of reason
Becomes hoarse
Stripped raw
From strain

As sanity died.

-The north winds whistling through the eaves
-Your gritty mumblings in deep sleep
-The rain hitting the bedroom window
-Blown derbies upon the panes

These things brew an ointment,
which I will rub into my soul for eternity.

Just as those in days of old
These too shall fall.
The people said, "Let us build
A tower day by day, hour by hour.
And it will glow, and all will glower
Bringing us magnificence and glory!"
Where is that fabled tower?
Is it not gone, stone by stone?
Just as those in days of old
These too shall fall.

My heart holds no reason
Other than this love
Eros fills my senses
Agape guides my way

No reasoning with my heart
Though I talk to it
Love for you remains
Mania, mania, mania

My heart needs no other reason
My love is a golden apple
Ripe for the bite
That your lips might

O, that your sweet lips might

The thrill as some flighty creature glides past
Then soon the heart stills, discernment at last.

It was only a brief flutter on shaded-out wings
Quickly glimmered in the evening breeze.

It was only a shadow so why truly care?
This time of day aren't shadows everywhere?

With a thrill, some creature glides past,
Soon stills the heart, discernment at last.
Only a brief flutter on shaded-out wings
Quickly glimmered in the evening breeze.  
It was only a shadow.  So why would I care?
This time of day no shadows should be there.

That scent which rises up into my nostrils  
From the soil:

Iron, sand, leaf litter, first memories;
Black gumbo soil rich with organic decay

The scent that invades my nostrils
From the heavy rains:

Pine, pecan orchards, river, lake, fishy-ocean salt;
Awash in the field of drying grasses

It is an unwanted scent entering my nostrils
From the lack of a dusting cloth:

Aged, layered, rancid, oily, brittle pages, decay;
Things coming to their end.

You are the bright new future
Sparkling like a dime lying in the dust of an imploded building
Waiting to be picked up, pocketed, and saved for goods much
           needed.
Spend wisely young one.

The spirit of the snow is in the waters
Trickling down the mighty mountains
Flowing into streams, becoming waterfalls.

The spirit of the snow rushes to the sea.
It goes forward to waters bright and shining
To be taken up for next season's snowfall.

That same spirit, ancient, and is in all.

The spirit of the snow is in the waters
Trickling down the mighty mountains
Flowing into streams, becoming waterfalls.

The spirit of the snow rushes to the sea.
It goes forward to waters bright and shining
To be taken up for next season's snowfall.

Turtles in vast oceans eats fish from waters.
Other creatures snack on remnants of flesh.
They in turn will be eaten by larger fish.

That same ancient spirit is in all.

What made
  us beautiful
Since we were never
  likely to happen
Yet here we are

There is never an end without a start

In the moments
  we are meant to share
We are carelessly
  forced apart
Until we all can share one heart

Triumph over tragedy is not being dismembered by it.
But how to stop the bleeding?  That is the thing . . .

For miles the white path leads
Silent, still, crisp air

Only a slight crunch beneath feet
Too cold to be damp

Come! We will walk
And feel the stillness of snow

Do you see me age, in actual time,
Like some flashing overlays
In a time-lapse production video?

Time is ongoing, flashing forward
As though with the clicks of frames;
Line by line, wrinkle by wrinkle

Transposed onto my face.
The body begins to break down
Before our very eyes;

Shrinking in size, at first unnoticed.
Do not let me become diminished
When you look and choose to remember

The sum that amounted to me.

They are supposed to be Supreme in the land.
Yet have become like vulture gathering
Over the Constitutional carcass to pick at its bones.
They give free reign to a man, a human to rule
Above his fellow humans.  It is a lair of jackals.

"Man’s way does not belong to him.  It does not
Belong to man who is walking even to direct his step."

Her lips blanched then filled with red
As she released her teeth's edge.

The surreal sense of scent
Filled her nostrils then quickly went;

But it took her to another place
Of lovely florals, a greening space.

Had the rose been left for that very reason?
That here, in the greyish heart of winter's season

She might be transformed to have a rebel's heart
That simply would not believe spring could part?

Yet, autumn had faded into shorter darker days,
As winter closed its icy grip, this gift appeared from far away.

Frozen blackness changed with the scent of a sweet rose,
As the surreal sense of scent had filled her nose

And made her write in such pretty proses.

When I was a child thistles grew in the countryside
And we both ran wild across the green
Me on legs, it sends out seeds and systems of roots
Yes, the thistle intrigues me with its stately air, and

Even as a child, I would lie nearby to study it;
It with its bold, untouchable beauty standing
On hollow strong stem holding its pink head proudly
I had not realized it was connecting to a Scottish soul

When the mowers came and crossed its path
I would find them butchered among the grass
And pause to examine just how tender
This vulnerable, this seemingly iron-clad plant

Touch-me-not, better left free, for one cannot hold
The prickly beauty to one's breast nor remain unharmed
If enticed by its charm to grasp its prickles and thorns
When cut it quickly dies, thus you must love it from afar.  

I know people like that
My desire remained strong and I have longed
Merely to be near this wild ephemeral creature
For the air is sweetest where the thistle grows.

With the tide, coming in, going out
The boat rises and falls
Like our gentle rocking.
Rising and falling
Like your chest does now.
I lay my heard on you,
Listen to a heart that pounds
Afterwards.  You cradle me
In the warm ocean of love.

It has been said that
A man will shape his tools
Then his tools will shape him.
It is true of male or female.
Necessity is the parent of invention,
Invention becomes the driving force,
The power to move forward towards
Life.

There are so many things I could have become.
I could not concentrate on just one.
So, I flitted to a multitude until each was done.

Buzzing from knowledgeable flower & blossom like a bee;
Feeling that if I looked hard enough I would find 'me'.
But in the end, I see

I am all the total sum of the complete.

As summer pants its hot last breath
Autumn comes to give her rest.

And winter looks for spring to green;
Then summer once again ​we see.

Within the turning of each new season
Our hopes and dreams are given reason.

The echo of the lie
Carries on through time

Lie upon lie in time
- Stain

The filthy froth
The couplet wrought
- staining

Froth the filthy foam

Grief on grief
It is heaped
- stained

Grief, O, grief carried on

It is still cold outside.
I step into a warm patch
Where the sun's rays caress.

You reside in those spots
Where I begin to feel, again.
Then the warmth of you returns

And I feel your loving touch.
But I must go on, as do we all,
Making and collecting memories.