but aren't they all random?



A Pocketful of Poesy was a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog* up until the great derail of 2013. The impossibly-high standard of quality proved impractical to keep up, without a book deal. But don't take my word for it: click RANDOM and judge for yourself! And feel free to offer your critique.
*based on poem rate for calendar years 2009-2012. Also, kidding about the book deal.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

"I skipped the other day"

I skipped the other day -
you can skip,

when no one's watching.
Make of innocence such delicious guilt
-gilded pleasures,
like any childhood game.
In adulthood, the game becomes:

don't ever let them catch you playing
it!

You can't let someone see
you skip,
but sometimes you have to
- shhhhh!

I had good reason,
too. I'd had a call
from somebody who'd been going non stop
bad news for weeks, me rationing commiseration
and hope, in equal measure - but
without much reason for either, when

I saw the phone light up,
my heart sank,
because

by then, it had been conditioned to.

All those bad news weeks, days in rows for months,
for someone you always loved
talking to.
And still do, but

- of course I picked up.

I left the place where people were,
I went out back, used the excuse
of a cigarette or two,
and was much lightened: two
of the worst three crises

had turned to triumph! And
apparently,
I'd given advice
which she said she took all of.

But I didn't remember giving any.

Anyway, it helped,
and I skipped
all the way back. Except
when I crossed the doorway,
suddenly I realized
- I should walk a bit more normally.

Pity, that.

since ages since

It must be ages since I saw your soul
dancing behind your eyes. It must
be ages since I made your face hurt
from laughing. But you know,

I look round at the world, and
between you and me, it's every bit as funny

as it used to be.

Friday, January 09, 2015

"addict", or "crack die"

If the answer is yes,
I do not refuse.
If it's all for the best,
I will place my bets.
in this possible world, we can
-not lose,

now -

with so very much less to choose, left
with so very much less,
come on dice -

baby needs new shoes

"Can you make a mistake and miss your fate??"

Can you make a mistake and miss your fate??
When you saw all your years stretch down a path
that you somehow missed, some trip
on the way. Must have led you astray

your beautiful laugh
still holds all the notes.
All the music of life lived stoked,
lived loved, lived whole. Lived psyched,
but the tune pulls pain from heartstrings
now.

A shadow of rain from every cloud,
an echo of gold in each glimpse of sun
recalls every last thing you knew you had
won,

that was somehow lost. What a long strange trip

it must have been, love
that we fall to this -
tumbled,
and sprawled down this long strange path.

Was it destiny? Fate? Don't make me laugh,
please, if the joke's not true. Still the joke
is on us, either way. I do

know, and trust, that the joke was
good. I can smile myself. And you're such a good sport,

that it seems like hell
hath no fury to set against you. The report
On our fate

is a page too short.

Fate -
whatever it was
- has gone on its way
and has left us behind. Were there forks
in the road, that we missed? As we laughed
Did we act too slow? or move way too fast?
Have we killed too kind? As we shot,
locked-sure in some clear, cut joy
that was not
what it turned out to be. Were we blind?
Did we see? or ignore?
We both saw the same thing,
you know.

Either way, now
it's sure.

Destroy what was meant to be,
I guess.
Today

it's gone.
Either way, we missed
Or else - we were wrong
from the very first guess.
From the very first glimpse
of the path we thought
looked like such a good bet!

and has come to naught,

"Not yet, not yet!" - no:
it's come to this.

Fate

has gone on its way, and left us behind. And
you don't really miss, and
I can't really say, but
I don't really mind
so much anymore.
I could stray and stray
by your side, explore any way this strange road
has to take, my bride (
once-to-be, now not)
-to-be, so let it lie.

Can you make a mistake and miss your fate?

If I'm part of your fate, you have not missed me.
I can't speak for the rest. Can you miss your fate?
If the answer's yes, if our chance
is past,
if our fate must deny
and refuse us that path -

still I'm glad we asked.

Thursday, January 08, 2015

piecemeal

people say you should disregard 
all kinds of stuff, and 
"it's just the personality" 
that counts, but me

No.

 I put the whole person 
considered as one including the whole package, 
and everything in it.
 "personality" 
If you ask me, is every quality that goes into making them the person you recognize. And no-one else

 what makes them them, 
or me me, or you you -
why leave anything off or out? What part
of the person you love

"doesn't matter?"

Not one bit.
- not setting aside even
one's wee-wee or hoo-hoo, but 
incorporating the whole thing in toto and suddenly,
you're NO WHERE NEAR KANSAS and seeing colors
 that weren't invented a second ago

I believe 

People truly love the whole person, 
or are missing something. To pick out and love
just one part

some chipped-off shard,
discarding 
what you yourself lack, I suspect
 cast it aside
as unworthy. Jealous 

Lover, you miss
the whole person
 for all they are, can't see
the far greater sum 

you focus on a part. Nope,
that short sharp sighted approach -
slice, cut out what you say is worth less
- is not for me.

Love this, if it's not too much
to love: mind heart disposition sense of humor character, sure, 
soul if you got some, yes, eyes, 
smile, laugh
face body and blood and
everything,
 amen!
glory hallelujah.

Love that

all. The package
deal. and set aside
nothing as if unimportant, nothing 
as if meaningless.

 There is nothing shallow
In the one I love. Her skin deep 
goes for miles and years, 
and never reach the end of it.
You can't break her down,
atomizing dissected aspects 
giving each different weights. No,

I take the one I love all together, altogether,
all I am is for her, all of her.
 all the way, and I won't miss one thing.
That's how a person can love another person. 
To bits and back again, no stray piece left
I love you, love, and

God damn, you
 are entirely beautiful