what lamp is it i hold aloft?

it shows me pebbles and leaves

and the trunks of trees

but of the lamp itself

i know so little

i have a (thing)

though it gives me none

of what i got it for

nor any use i know to put it to,

it will not work in that way.

there is a utility in it

i did not expect,

of which i know so little

20260313

i’ll drop a link to this in dverse open link night

here: https://dversepoets.com/2026/03/12/open-link-night-403-with-live-edition/

oh morpheus come save me
bring me to the dreaming
rescue me from moms dementia
taxes, lack of work
give my body and mind the
time to reset, repair
for as it is i do not welcome sleep
it eats the night but ineffective
in providing respite

20260311

today it is thirty degrees warmer than

the last hundred days that have passed

.

the ocean will not be fooled by all this hot air

it’s frigid depths blow a cold wind ashore

.

the ocean so cold it only registers as pain

in every cell it touches.

.

the little park at the end of bay ave

behind the ball field connects to something deeper, wilder, unmown

.

the way some parts ache while others do not

barnacles collecting below the waterline

.

notes:

people think it’s great wearing shorts in march.

a few blocks inland and it’s too warm.

which was as far as my ankles.

cacti ready to stab bare feet.

shoulders in the morning, hips in the evening,

picking dry skin

20260310

the prompt :: https://dversepoets.com/2026/03/10/poetics-embodying-a-landscape/

here is a little riddle that almost hit me while out driving today. thought it would work for yesterdays prompt at d’Verse https://dversepoets.com/2026/03/09/quadrille-243-bird-is-the-word/ so here you go:

it’s big and yellow

children use it.

We can find it on the street

I don’t need to tell you how to get there

Kids learn more

In this then in school

Despite the sign on its rump

it’s neither blue

Nor a Bird

20260310

oh so much of what i thought was love
was just a desperate dependency
a longing to be seen heard felt
and still somehow feel safe

a total having and eating of the cake
which of course left heartache in its wake

oh so much of that romanticism appeal
was a longing for ecstasy
rod stiff and heart melt
yet still something in it chafed

but if it is truely love to make
my eggheart is going to have to break

inspired by the prompt at https://dversepoets.com/2026/02/17/poetics-the-evolution-of-love/

20260218

All of these houses fall away.
Every body will dis-animate
Ribs and rafters exposed
Picked clean by vultures
Perched on by raptors
And where then is Home?

It is after noon
I will put the sun down so gently
There is no Place.
That isn’t home.
(There is also no place that isn’t home)

This heart so young inside
A child first beat his wee
Feet upon the oaken floor
Beneath the blanket plaid
Played out centered in that
Big empty room where he
And his mum had ham
Sandwiches. Had there been
A history there before then
He took no heed adopted
This house as home
As he was also adopted.
…
With the onslaught of fifty years
It is now as he feared
Pen paralyzed on contract line
Lured and trapped in fishing net
Find words to fill this lament
…
Removed of use the walls and roof
Remain and thought they still shed
Rain the om is gone
…
Six hundred sixty three
Million heartbeats just for him
Plus his brother, dad and mother
Seventeen seasons of greenbeans
Tomatoes and zucchini
School and sledding and Lego spaceships
Each building the other
Covering a deep longing
…
This part is so hard to face
…
Escaping constraints college bound
Way leads to way ne’er coming around
Again, too much has changed
Most of it in him.
…
One billion
Nine hundred fifty million
Heartbeats since the wooden
Halls patter picnic
It time to sell it
Yet my monkey hand is firmly
Clenched through the bung
around the deed, and the need
For a home, and love, guaranteed..
and thus in longing snared
I cannot be freed

20260122

What can one snowflake do?
So frail and delicate
Like a voter.

On plate glass over black velvet fallen
Beautiful and cold
Like a model

More they come arm in arm
Relentless and silent
Like a throng

Grass always first to receive
And gift its blades
Like a sheath

Sidewalks next to surrender
Submit to slumber under snow
Like a comforter

So much litter is covered
By this wide white brush
Like an artist

It falls on all
Stifling and oppressive
Like a despot

Morning sun reveals its nighttime deployment
Glittering and beautiful
Like a diamond

If love would fall like this
Would I still be as untrusting
As warm asphalt

20260120
The forecast at the d’Verse poets pub https://dversepoets.com/2026/01/20/poetics-new-year-snow/ calls for snow. I wanted to avoid the obvious with it, but it happens in my locale, and I love certain things about it, and those will naturally surface when my attention turns toward it. Missing is comparison to sand grains in the desert and the hush that comes with it, and that space it makes under pine trees.
I don’t think I worked the one vs millions nature of snowfall enough, the way it first hides and covers so much but then reveals tracks and footprints otherwise invisible, and the last stanza about love and trust. Perhaps it will work for you. Please leave your comments

From the great fan of
alluvial pebbled man I
Took up one what caught my eye

With great regard he
Became unscarr’d examplary
Of how me thinkst a man should be

Enamored thus with clouded eye
Enriched I did strive
Ere towards him did drive

Followed him beyond his grave
All the way to mine
And lying here in my last bed
Wish I followed another instead

20260114 draft

Folsom Prison Blues