#348. the cutter eagle

August 8, 2010

i built a ship
a childhood
balsa and pine
on my small hands
the hands of my dad
large and sure
we worked so hard
to build and paint
the cutter eagle
running home
after school to sand
the hull smooth
and dream

complete
i gave it to my dad’s
father when he admired it

years later
it returned to me
after deaths
it was covered
in dust and cobwebs
rigged it

as my years passed
it grew tattered and
broken and thrown away
with one of my failed lives

but my ship still lives
rotting on in a landfill in jersey
and here within my double planked
mind making its way across the endless
sea

#299. earth and swan

June 20, 2010

for myself as papa
without my kids again
midfathers day laughing
with lover wife playing
tug of war with the dog
i still know the truth
of the experience heart
love and time gave us
my children and will
wait as long as i can
as you need

#282. rachael

June 3, 2010

the pure water
sparkled less than you did
giggling at two minutes
an old soul teaching me
about the sun through the flecks
of dust on a morning
alive with gold
a tall summer tree rustling
in your waking breaths
is the moment of gift
which is all the fire
that i have of you
daughter

#147. Bad Reading

January 19, 2010

A popular favorite
Walt.
The door frame
of your house
is cool relief
from dry pastoral prose-poems.

#137. the flying walrus

January 9, 2010

my father used to fly us
through the western pennsylvanian
ohio and west virginian skies.

my brothers and i were always thrilled
to be invited along on that ride
although the joy was different for each.

i do not know what kicks my brothers
gathered on those weekend afternoons
we didnt talk much then or even now.

but i really enjoyed the feel of taking the stick
with my dad giving it over but more i loved
knowing that even so he was still captain.

#52. Pale Blue

October 16, 2009

Pale blue
pale
and blue
the nylon shag
under the piano
my father’s rage explodes
on my brother
thank god
its my brother.

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