A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Message from a bottle

Hang in there, you. Take heart.
Be of brave, good cheer. Regard
the world with shining eye, and if
it won't meet your gaze, maybe
it's not lying. Maybe it's just shy.

I have learned from being here.

From birds, not how to sing but why,
from friends what enemies
are laughing at,
from the mirror
that my sad face looks
fake, and from you, that you'll

never help me practice it.

But a lesson like that is a piece of cake
- you can eat it, too. Falling off a log
with you, a lot depends on who lands
first, but it's not a race. In ancient days,
I might have been mistaken, enslaved,
worshipped as A GOD - and you, my
favorite sacrifice, but more likely,

the science fiction ending: unstuck
in time, place, parts of speech drifting
away and on your face, as always 
- facial features -
unreadable without the cereal box
top decoder ring. Send away,

I am receiving.

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

strong coffee

I got the worst night of my life stuck in my throat
I need something to wash it down before I choke
Well I can't take heed of the warnings, I've tried
and I fear my old age will never take me alive
so I'm coming to a stop 'til it starts again
I know nothing's going to help me
in the state I'm in, but give me strong

coffee, ma'am
certified organic or petroleum-based, hey
I don't really give a good god damn
just so it's strong
coffee for me. Black, no
sugar, don't leave any room for cream

I can't prove one single thing I've ever done
and don't know who I am or what
I have become
It's like you wake up from a dream and can't remember your life
I know every stupid thing except why, why why?
Someone please turn down the light, I can't
focus my mind, I need something I can taste
'cause I've sure gone blind - just give me strong

coffee, ma'am
certified organic or petroleum-based, hey
I don't really give a good god damn
just so it's strong
coffee for me. Black, no
sugar, don't leave any room for cream

Monday, April 17, 2017

from the inside

To each their own
cell, no guard
except God if there is one,
no visitors
allowed inside, no fellow prisoners
for company - only a couple of windows
and these companionable walls,

through and over which you can stretch
your neck, strain your mind, sneak
a peek out. You can still catch a glimpse
of familiar space, in the dawning light
on a stranger's face. Well,

if anything's sacred, that must be it. If the piece
that you're holding won't ever fit, what if
somebody, somewhere, out in the cold has
a jigsaw gap, just the shape you hold...?
You can't fucking get it to them, though.
All you can do is describe it. And then they
can pretend they know
what it is you've told.

Ick.
Today's topic is
"Have you ever felt utterly alone?"
Yes, most always. Although
I am not the only one.

bookkeeping

Sometimes I am out of line,
and you let me off the hook.
But in that case, it's not my
call. Not my business, in your book
the entry's blank - it's not my place
to call you to accounts,
just to offer thanks. I owe nothing
- in generous amounts.

Thursday, April 06, 2017

tea ceremony

When you've plumbed and traced the shape of that ache,
you will find you can draw it forth as a blade
to cut paths through the phantoms of could
and should be, that are placed in your paths
by the enemy. Who,
disappointingly and undramatically enough,
is often you yourself, pulling
one of those subconsciousness snuggie cloaks
close around you and down over your eyes
in a sinister attempt at incognito,

but I know you

and you've been beginning to get wise
to that bastard's ways for a while or two
by now. Time to sit down together to a TEA AND CRUMPETS PARTY.

You two are ON THE SAME SIDE!

But it all begins
in examination of that ache,
with an eye towards fashioning it
into a defensive mechanism and multi-purpose
instinct-guided and -guiding tool. It is the ache
that is in you, in the shape of what is not,
that teaches us what's missing,
and the negative space in us into which it will fit.

It is strange that we want
or need such a thing. But it is only by feeling the shape,
by knowing our ache that we can make our eyes wise
to its possible fix, every wherever we come across its shape
in this profuse and abundant world.

Meanwhile, sit
Have tea, and linger

in this moment of getting to know

'til it hurts.

'More Than Sum'

The product of two,
divided by none
and raised to the power
of equals, is
less than three
to infinity, and
they're already writing
the sequels.