Author: cfblack
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A One Sentence Poem Written on the Last Friday Before the First Tuesday of November 2020 and the Title Is Longer than the Poem’
If Tzar Nicholas Was His Own Rasputin, Would The Nobles Have Let Him Live? 10-30-20
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#1 and 2
#2 dead limb falls in woodsrattles leaves of the livingon it’s way to rest #1 there is an echo wind carries from where it’s been sit and be quiet 10-29-20
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#3 reading the poet, Robert Bly
neo-cortex laughs at reptile/mammal cage match Robert’s Buddha brain 10-29-20
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for want of a piece of hose
Years ago, I’d ride a stolen bike across campus to the grounds shed, rake leaves in large piles for a truck to gather and carry away, sit in class, leaf mold and debris on jeans and boots, compete with the leisure class for grades, laugh at sorority girls who’d pull at short skirts if I…
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sitting in the clammy dew
Out under the trees where groundskeepers never go leaves stand thick around a bench with a cracked slat of faded wood On this foggy bottom morning I carry a notebook, a pen, a new book to read and coffee in my blue cup I sit upon the dewy bench sip warm coffee open the book…
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Submission
This morning, I think maybe, I’m avoiding the ebb and flow of acceptance and rejection and maybe, I should submit more or maybe, I’m just lazy or maybe, it’s the definition of submission Seeing myself in print Is like going out on the town hoping someone notices the cut of my hair the style of…
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Fire Bright, James’ Delight
Excited three year old Mommy, it’s a dream Hands out towards warm Chases a glowing spark Shock of bare skin landing Cowers behind chair Mommy, kisses fear away Excited dance around fire Time to leave, time for bed Marshmallows, mommy Next time, James, next time Holds tight her hand Bye, bye, Mr. Al Mommy, it’s…
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Under a bush
walk in wet leaves off the paved path listen to muffled rustling empty beer can under a bush why not hold it a bit longer? how many homes for the homeless could the trees in this park build? how many homes sit empty, because banks and landlords want money? need in want of a solution…
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Dad
Yesterday, was three years since I counted your last breaths. I tried to post about it, but didn’t. I thought of the summer before college. I was going to walk across America with a staff I carved from a sapling and kept behind the door of my room. I was going to listen to American…
