Thanksgiving

A poem written while out for a walk today:

Autumn
An autumn afternoon
walking with the dog before thanksgiving dinner
the air is warm
the sky is grey
the ground is wet
squirrels running back and forth
mouths full of harvest
the leaves break the days grey
with highlights of red orange yellow
the grass is green
the sky is grey
I feel sleepy
I walk under a walnut tree
as a gust of wind rattles the fragile leaves
they cling to the branch weakly
they are rattled off
I look up as the yellow leaves cascade over me
the sky is a flurry of yellow arrow heads
the fall all around me, some touching my face
leaving drops of the rain which still clung to them
they are an acrid yellow
they look as though they would taste sour
the ground is covered in fallen, trampled chestnuts
Green gone brown
they look like shit and don't smell much better
the ground is wet
the ground is shit smeared
the air is warm
and the sky is grey
as I walk with the dog before thanksgiving dinner

Writing

Working on putting together a self-published book of poetry and what ever this shit is...here is a few pieces that may or may not be included in the final project.

Scribble/Scratch
I can't think straight
and my pen work is even worse
The seismic movements of my hand
only serves to scar fine white paper
Nothing beautiful comes from my mind
or my hand
Everything is shaky
gone haywire
like a machine detecting a liar
scribble, scratch
I can't think straight
She says she needs a stable man
and me
well, I have vertigo
I can barely hold a pen
and my mind is less reliable now
than it has ever been.

Last supper:
The world is ending!
So run. and dance. and laugh.
All that matters now is joy
the joy that you denied yourself
for the sake of productivity
and peoples perceptions of you.

Morning Ritual:She sleeps nude
She likes the feeling of the sheets against her skin
soft. warm. cotton. womb.
the morning sunlight sneaks past the edges of the blinds
the rays of light cut through the darkness of her room
and illuminate slivers of her face with a lustrous grace
she awakens
stands up out of her bed
she shivers. rubs her eyes.
and stretches out of the dream in which she has just been
It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen

Summer Storm
The rain. in sheets.
it blankets me. it comforts me.
a million droplets of company.


At night:
I can bow out
blow a kiss
say goodbye
but my honor wont keep me warm at night
I can wash my hands of you
Turn away from you
Move on from you
but my honor wont keep me warm at night
I can avoid " I love you"s
shut my mouth
tell no lies
but my honor wont keep me warm at night
so instead
Ill kiss you
bite my tongue
and lay by your side
because my honor wont keep me warm at night