My husband's poetry

Author: cfblack

  • Pet me

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    cfblack
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    Slow morning a book on a bench in the park friend stops by to record a poem It is good to have friends Last night’s ashes still too warm to throw away maybe, tomorrow Waiting for a phone call If the wind is right I hear semis miles away on interstate a friend walks by…

  • patience

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    by

    cfblack
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    Not every bird You see sings The potential for singing Holds your gaze Maybe you’ll see The moment its mouth opens Throat quivers And sound comes 11-4-20

  • chaos

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    by

    cfblack
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    a poem about chaos written as a sonnet marched in ordered rhythm on five feet three quatrains, rear guard a couplet serried lines, chant strict ab/ab rhyme an argument in favor of chaos disproves itself with structure and form 11-4-20

  • Wanted: A Pair of Wings

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    cfblack
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    This morning specks of birds in distant sunny sky rise and float No crystal stair not even splintered boards tacks impaling bare feet Teach us to fly to leave the ground to soar above 11-4-20

  • Thumbtacks

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    cfblack
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    Election Day, trying to avoid the news trying to think of anything but this election On a friend’s page, I see a picture of a pinup girl, wonder what she was like when she wasn’t a fantasy I feel guilty for looking, but I look anyway, tell myself that the person she was that day…

  • morning reverie

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    cfblack
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    In the half-light I read While mom argues with herself She says you have daylight Don’t waste electricity Then says I will hurt my eyes Reading in bad light Mom made up her truisms To fit her need to correct Soon it will be full daylight And she will go back inside 11-2-20

  • chilly day

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    cfblack
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    a chilly day an old Idea past its prime we gained an hour don’t waste it rain washes air and trees and the sidewalk that leads to and from our door 11-1-20

  • halloween haiku

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    cfblack
    in ,

    Halloween Fire PitIf any kids come by here,Candy & Marshmallows 10-31-20

  • Brown trout

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    (for all my English teachers who accused me of not paying attention in class) It took me six decades to learn what, when and how to read. In grade school, I’d read Field & Stream while releasing brown trout. High school came and I’d take a novel to the john, read until my legs fell…

  • stick pins

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    cfblack
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    I stood in the bathroom this morning, smelled an open bottle of medicinal alcohol Images of fruit jars, alcohol soaked cotton swabs, vomiting insects choking on guts Grade school bug collection I never brought mine home to hang on bedroom wall Smell death lingering in flesh I daydreamed butterflies unable to land feed on nectar,…