My husband's poetry

Author: cfblack

  • on writing

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Sometimes, you flesh out a poem with ink and paper and the anger and emotion hurts too much to finish. 7-20-20

  • Indiana summers

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    Tonight, I can taste braunschweiger on white bread Red Kool-Aid that left a smiley face Peaches so juicy I ate them on the back steps and Fudgesicles that dripped down my chin onto my shirt I remember playing kick ball in the street Chicken on my bicycle and never turning away Freeze tag and hide-n-seek…

  • Two plus two plus two plus two

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Dark shadow with golden legs Early morning sun illuminates on screen Normally, I see you in debris along the fence Or on a rotting stump among the weeds What brings you to my porch to perch in soft young light? I have nothing to feed you, but I marvel at your agility How you coordinate…

  • That guy

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    I am that guy that guy who stands in a museum up close to a Frankenthaler painting looking at an individual stroke where a brush fiber rises up thinking everything I discern had meaning for the painter I am that guy that guy who stares at a Kahlo piece from across a gallery trying to…

  • Dragonfly

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , , , ,

    Stopping to almost perch on grass you followed for two blocks Steering your four winged bi-plane in and out of my path Are you bringing good fortune what are you trying to say? Black white laced wings in late afternoon sun I stopped and offered a finger you came close and flew away 7-16-20

  • Business 101

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    They met at the club talked business over lunch shared menu and life stories Raised a glass of scotch full of ice and courage laughed and drank some more Stained clothes and honor agreed to meet next week for another two martini lunch 7-15-20 (working with zeugma as a figure of speech and therefore, literary…

  • Drone

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Daytime cicadas drone about mating in this heat; they keep on droning, so I assume it’s too damn hot to procreate, even in the shade. If they had studied hard for seventeen years and not slept in and skipped class, we would only hear the drone of tiny HVAC units in the trees. 7-14-20

  • haiku

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Sunday did not stayradiant heat slept alonegrey skies wait for rain 7-13-20

  • Dung beetle

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    It doesn’t take a cultural war fueled by penis envy to uncover a lost cause Or a stormy porn star to tell the world a myth has a small penis Atlas sided with Titans who ate their young to stay in power and lost His statue sits in a museum posing like a dung beetle…

  • Sing

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    because sometimes nighttime isn’t enough early morning cicadas still sing they sing loud and long hoping to be found and …..loved 7-11-20