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.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

I will be yours

I can see where your eyes are going -
great big windows
little soul
and as far as what you'll do next, dear
there's no knowing
but I know
and as much as I've learned about you
and as much as you let me down
there's a fist in my chest
and it won't unclench
and it holds you forever now

And I will be yours,
and you will be somebody else's.
And as strong and as deep as my love is, you won't know.
But I will be yours,
and as dumb as I must be to say it -
still, feels good to say it.
It's good to be sure.

I can see where this life is going -
letting go, and
parting ways
And as long as you've walked beside me,
though your light goes -
your shadow stays.
And as good as your good advice is,
and as much as I know you're right -
We can be such good friends,
and the fun never ends,
and we won't ever cry or fight.

And I will be yours,
and you will be somebody else's.
and as strong and as deep as my love is, you won't care.
And I will be yours,
and you will be somebody else's.
I will try not to be so selfish -
so unfair

I can see where your eyes are going.
Great big windows,
little soul.
And as far as what you'll do next, dear:
there's no knowing.
But I know,

I will be yours,
and you will be somebody else's.
and I hope that he richly deserves it - I sure don't.
And I will be yours,
and you will be somebody else's.
And you'll feel just a twinge of conscience
(no you won't).

And as much as I've learned about you,
and as much as you've let me down -
there's a fist in my chest,
and it won't unclench,
and it holds you forever now.

Monday, February 23, 2015

"Eurydice"

I will turn my heart in on the way out.
I'm out of love, I won't fall now.
I'll turn my card in to the cashier.
Give me one last punch for the discount,
and get me outta here - get me out of here.

I've switched myths from Tantalus to Sisyphus.
Now it's time to let that whole huge rock roll over this
I bet I've got the Herculean intellect
it would take to make it through
all these labors you set, and I bet
as I make my out,
this abode of the dead won't miss me now
and I bet as I dive, swim back across
the Styx - all my memories of life aren't lost

I'll turn my heart in on the way out:
I'm out of love, I won't fall now.
I'll turn my card in to the cashier.
Give me one last punch for the discount,
get me outta here. 'Cause I'm out of here.
Get me out of here. I am outta here

I've switched tracks from corporate to business
- and I'm all that. I am roughshod over this.
With tact, diplomacy and love I'll bring war
- was there something else you were looking for?
And I guess, as I make my way through
this abode of the dead, I could plant some fruit
of the tree of the knowledge of the love we lost
- if it ever bears leaf, I'll be a long way off

I'll turn my heart in on the way out:
I'm out of love, I won't fall now.
I'll turn my card in to the cashier.
Give me one last punch for the discount,
get me outta here. 'Cause I'm out of here.
Almost out of here! Get me out of here

I'm on my way out,
I won't stop now,
I won't look back
- but I hope you will follow
I won't look back,
I trust in fate
- come Heaven or Hell,
I will wait by the gate.

...and I'll turn my heart in on the way out:
I'm out of love, I won't fall now!
Turn my card in to the cashier.
Gimme one last punch for the discount,
I'm almost outta here. Almost out of here!
Get me out of here. I will never be out of here

But I'll turn my heart in
on the way out.

travels

I picture you
as days go by,
so far from days gone by,
so far
from dreams I had
of you and me,
taking hand in hand our days, to see
where paths and plans would lead -
not caring, really, for my part
what destiny or destination
was.

I picture you so far
from there. The picture held
most everything, plus you and me
- but you, the only part of it
that meant it all, that I could see.
Oh, we could be surrounded
by majestic views - a mirror lake,
a rushing sea, a tree-lined cliff,
an ivied porch - my view was great.
Just look at you

Whatever plot we might find out
to live upon and look out from,
my stunning view was in the light
that fell upon your face,
as you leaned in for me,
looked out on life -

That view meant more
than every place.

The world, the frame
- I let it go as meaningless.
I shouldn't have
done that, but see, the blame
belongs to you: in your clear eyes
and laughing voice
and lovely face
and to your lovely form,
and style, and sense of humor,
taste, and fun, and grace
- what else there was,
it was too easy to displace
the ground we'd walk on,
just as if
we didn't need the world
we'd find some other place to live,
to walk - I only knew if I'd have you
to walk to there, from anyplace.

And so I've lost my focus on
the paths and hills
and trees and flats
and empty wastes. I pictured you
in place of that, and now I've lost
my taste for ways. And walks,
and runs, and seas and cliffs -
the landscapes we could build upon
have all diminished in the mist
and left your hands, your lips
your hip, your thigh, your hair
your small of back, your calves
and ankles, toes, your eyes

- are closed in sleep.

And I lie back on other sides
of other worlds. And watch a re-play,
silver screens play faded white
and silent films until the ceiling fades
to dreams.

As days awake, I picture you.
So far from days gone by, so far
the days have left behind the one
I was, who thought that he could be
your movie star, your action hunk,
your silent clown, your kung fu opera
shaolin monk - I've laid those props
and costumes down. I still can play
your funny drunk, your confidant,
your comic voice, on telephone or
several other scenes and parts
that take some skill and worth to play.

I'm more an audience, these days.
I find a seat, and sit in dark. Watch old
forgotten movies spool - the only star
I come to see - the only one my ticket's worth.
The only one I'd give awards. The one who makes
you laugh, and die, and love, and hurt - I'd give that role
to you, you own that part. It's yours. You've played it once,
it plays a million times. The show
this theater only shows
these days. The only show for which
I'll stand in line.

I do walk out the doors, sometime. A smile
on my face, my feet
have found concrete, as I walk light
in dark upon the rain-slick street,
towards home at last. Or some
such thing. And maybe, pass
the perfect girl. And if our eyes should catch,
she'll smile. I'll nod. She knows

I've seen the world.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

SERIOUS

Life is serious: don't make fun of it!
Life is dangerous: keep your distance.
Life is suffering.
Life is pointless.
That's its business - mind what yours is.

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

"lighten up"

it didn't take a miracle
to make you change your mind
it must be easier for you
to measure and decide
there's everything you can't explain
I guess you shouldn't try, but
the breath you say you're wasting is
what's keeping me alive.
Anything you say?
- I'll hang on every word

And you say "Oh, lighten up, will you?
Lighten up. Will you lighten up?" You say
"Oh, lighten up, will you?"

I'm not here I can't believe
a single thing I've heard
you're just talking, just to speak.
I can't say a word.
Cover up the silences,
fill them up with dirt.
Isn't that the way
a conversation works?
Anything you say -
I hang on every word,

And you say "Oh, lighten up, will you?
Lighten up. Will you lighten up?" You say
"Oh, lighten up, will you?"
You say "Oh, lighten up, will you?
Lighten up. Will you lighten up?" You say
"Oh, lighten up, will you?"

Can't believe a thing I've heard
fallen from your lips today,
so if that's the final word
- what else can I say?
you talk to me like I'm a wall:
solid stone on solid ground,
but if it ever stood at all,
now it's broken down.
Anything you say.
I hang on every word.

I hang on every word and you say "Oh,
lighten up, will you? Lighten up.
Will you lighten up?" You say
"Oh, lighten up, will you?"
You say "Oh, lighten up, will you?
Lighten up. Will you lighten up?" You say
"Oh, lighten up, will you?"

Friday, February 06, 2015

White chocolate.

It's okay! White chocolate? It's
Ok. There's really nothing
wrong with it. It's not

- it's not "chocolate" really. It's good,
in some things,

as an ingredient, it can offer
a really marvelous texture complement
to some things, And

there's something about the sweet, blank space

it lays down
in the flavor landscape of the thing
you're biting into
that contains white chocolate,

that can be very...mysterious?

Evocative? Neutral in an aggressive way

and insisting on being considered
as essential.

overshoot

Life isn't so bad
that you can't be optimistic
about the things you haven't seen
that might be nonexistent, but
that certainly inspire you

So beautiful
they are

it makes you want to take
a leap of faith
that far.

Thursday, February 05, 2015

melancholy is

melancholy

is a beautiful word, and
you can't even say
how it comes about.

But usually, you've had a beautiful thing -
and life has immeasurably been enriched,
changing everything you've ever wanted from it,
making all sorts of things make sense from scratch
like they never did.

The only catch,
the only thing bad you could say about it:
is every day, you wake up to invent
the life you can live, that's nowhere
near spent,
that can do without
that beautiful thing. You can't

even say
how it came about.