Running Dishes

He let me know this spooky
dress-up costume Mommy sent
is not for me and so we leave
it in his bag. After all,
I’m going as a poem
in spite of his advice:
poems are not scary!
I grin and scribble more.
Shine a light on family
secrets, spark irate debate
from friends and huffy sighs
from lovers. In between
we sing a little star that
twinkles. He ad libs
verses of the shiny moon-
friend, cows jumping and
a rebel spoon. Sparks
winking in innocuous
rhymes all the time.

Inspired by: Irate, Light, Innocuous, Spooky and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt dress.

…Wait for it

Jump into space

between couplets like the pause
right before I inhale

that joyful awareness, nothing
to surmount. All the stone fortresses

open their secret rooms. It’s dark.
The air is heavy. Sometimes I fall

into numbness, waking with a start
I am afraid to follow. And still

I carry a light. I have chosen
this darkness. It is mine. I claim

my deep intelligence present here.
As a goldfinch lands, twittering

I’m on a glider; golden light slants
across my warm skin. The sun is

too brilliant, even the reflected glory
in the lake causes me to bow.

II
Part of this poem dances in
and I without a pen.

Charmed and heartened, I marvel
rapt like an audience who owns

the very book I quote. Finally
running into the house for tools

allow that cursive flow along the
lines and I feel fine so in a bit

I’m grabbing my guitar to play
and sing just anything and yes

this notebook, bizarre and strong
is with me: I believe my voice

needs to resonate this grounded
heart into the frequency of we.
III
Sitting drenched in early evening sun
strong and lovely, my skin crinkly.

Joy comes when words surprise
me and the family secrets fling

the doors wide and sashay in
with winks and raucous levity.

Even the dark ones, villains, long
excluded from our happy tale–

I burp when they appear in any
healing moment, that is, only now.
IV
I’m going into more far-flung places
and the house is reeking with bleach

so I can’t enter. Perhaps I’ll sleep
here–never knowing which heavy being

keeps splashing under the dock right
below me–with mosquitoes and bats and owls.

I have caged myself in fear.
The pretty smile barely masks

the numb places. Oh, hey, celebrate:
they are  i am  we made it here.
V
I whisper in my ear outside of time,
loving that little child, giving secret

snippets of what is essential right now.
Loving the powerful adult writing here.

Jericho Brown, you’ve changed me. Once
a couplet seemed like too much hand

holding, escorting my reader down
the path. Take a breather. Relax

before this next line really takes you
to a new place.  Jump into space

Inspired by: Levity, Surmount, Marvel and Bizarre.

Quintessence

“We can not solve our problems with the same level of thinking that created them”
Albert Einstein

I no longer wish to improve,
tweak and fine-tune thinking.

Instead I show up graceless
and grass-less, a straight

newbie in the arising
consciousness. I’ve been house-

sitting though I’ll not own
another mortgage casket draining

every productive hour. Now
I pay to pray with trees

protected in parks or plea
private landowners to overlook

my dances in pristine gardens.
Each morning I dip into

the aether of our deep
connection, shyly cup

my hands into the flow
and pull up this dripping

mouthful. Sometimes I splash
my face. Sometimes I lick

each shattering droplet-
fractal of the spiraling

galaxies.  Leaking through
fingers into the page

of our intentions, we ink an
infinity loop of our hearts.

Inspired by: Wish, Improve, Newbie and Grass.