My husband's poetry

Category: daily life

  • Love cuisine

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    You say you’re not hungry, but she cooks fish sticks anyway, because fish sticks are an act of love and the world needs more love (Whatever the hell that means). She calls you inside. You put four on a paper plate, add horse radish sauce for dipping and go back outside to eat. Confident no…

  • (no title)

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    dusk songs in the bush, in a tree, across the street, in the park, in my neighbor’s yard songs sung short and sweet 4-28-24

  • meditation at the kitchen sink

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    by

    cfblack
    in

    in early morning light a soap bubble told a dish rag in my curves I prism rainbows then burst in joyous colors 4-18-24

  • The Archaeologist

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Inspired by morning coffee with a friend: Boxing up mother’s life for an estate sale, he wondered if all the perfume and cologne still smelled cheap or if they improved with age. He wondered, if there was a way to save unburned candles from the glass votive series that lined a shelf behind her chair.…

  • forgiveness haiku

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    it’s not where you’ve been it’s where you are now standing and where you’re going 3-30-24

  • polecat pheromones

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    killing time currency of youth scavenger hunt for answers gather at the ball court – without a ball oblivious of the smell who am I to judge killing time 3-25-24

  • Daydream of a Busy 21st Century Man

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    cfblack
    in

    Once upon a time humans did not know about cholesterol, astrological signs, DNA, 23 and me, credit scores, BMI, FMR, social media passwords, Myers-Briggs, condoms, blood type, net worth and debit cards, but somehow they still thrived. 3-8-24

  • Foam bubbles

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    the smirking yuppy mural on the wall reaffirms your feelings of inadequacy to the tasks life has set before you and never changes its expression you wish you could sit one more time at your parents’ kitchen table let mom tell you how important it is to lose ten pounds, again listen to stories of…

  • Coffee blinders

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    by

    cfblack
    in

    If you sit too close to the register at the coffee shop, every time you look up you stare right at someone’s ass, feel guilty for momentarily judging how a stranger fills out Lululemon yoga togs, wonder how your boney butt appears, look away until someone else walks in and begin another cycle of judgement…

  • Solitude

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Orange overcast sunrise. On the other side of clouds jet rumbles in the sun. Old man fishes quietly on the shore nods and waves. We talked for an hour a year ago, respect each other’s need for solitude and have nothing more to say. On the other side of clouds, another jet passes overhead, glinting…