My husband's poetry

Category: War & Politics

  • The grooming of Daisy

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Because they wanted Daisy to grow up straight, They displayed her in the front window And turned her inward If she leaned into the sun When her roots outgrew the pot They transplanted her in a flower bed And there she flourished until a passing stranger Pulled off her petals one by one, playing loves…

  • Dear Raphael

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Paint me a laughing Madonna with postpartum belly rolls and hips Joseph in the foreground fashioning a new crèche Her wooly headed baby suckling a swollen nipple Little hands playing with her other breast All of them laughing and laughing at their good fortune 10-25-21

  • Freedom

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    What city landscape architect had money left over in their budget To throw away on a fence for only one side of a pond; Any child or old man can walk around? On the water side of the fence, a Fall flurry of flowers grows white and wild. On my side of the wire, two…

  • Autumn beauty

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    I admire your curves The smooth texture of your skin It is not necessary to hold you You are doing fine without me Possession would be A death sentence I admire your curves The smooth texture of your skin And walk on 9-22-21

  • Through the broken glass

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , , ,

    You have grown tired of sickness All the news, all the fake news and Graphs spinning in fractal mazes You want to sit with friends Say hi to strangers Enjoy music and poetry in a crowded room You want to attend workshops in person See peoples’ gears grind as they respond to prompts Wander aimlessly…

  • We were the class of ’70

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , , ,

    We were children pretending to be adults. This was our seeding, the setting of roots until our transplantation. If these were our glory days what the hell have we been doing for 50 years? We were the bridge between the gap a bridge over troubled waters waiting for the bus at McCord’s running to Goodnight’s…