I have discovered
Dogs have bested Freud
For they deflty nod
And slightly smile
And sometimes meet your eye
As you spill your soul
Find cures your own
While walking by their side
-a.r.
Off The Couch
•October 11, 2017 • Leave a CommentBirdsong
•October 3, 2017 • Leave a CommentThis morning
I cannot tell
If these dear birds
Do sing their songs
To woo each other
Or
Fling them long
To wound the other
But my toes are cold
So inside I go
Perhaps
It’s just as well
-a.r.
Forgive the repost, but these dear birds are at it again, and my toes are just as cold.
Hollow
•September 14, 2017 • Leave a CommentDear squirrel
With your mouth full
Of dirt, sticks, and leaves
Hopping ‘tween branches
But unable to see
Stutter and side-eye
Still attempting to look
Before leaping with instinct
Quick to batten your nook
Dark days encroaching
Tugging deep at your drive
Is it faith as you blind-jump
Or your will
To survive
-ar
Image found here: http://www.moorhen.me.uk/iodsubject/mammals_-_squirrel_13.htm
My Bracelet (repost)
•September 11, 2017 • Leave a CommentToday I wear a bracelet
Which is sixteen years old
I wear it this day every year
For lived moments that it holds
It was made for us in gratitude
For being there and holding up
The families of those we lost
That deadly day in Washington
Crafted by hand in Glory’s colors
They once were bright without a mark
Each year the colors fade a bit
And the beads become more scarred
At first I made an effort
To keep it quite pristine
But on this day I realize
Value is not in keeping clean
The dirt and scratches simply show
Sixteen years of life we’ve lived
We’re not defined by cracks and aging
But by what of ourselves we give
Dear bracelet, you’ll be on my wrist
On this day each and every year
Until one of us lets go that thread
Life well worn out for those not here
-a.m.d-r.
I repost this every year on this day, it’s not the best poem technically…but that doesn’t really matter today.
A picture of the bracelet made, and given to me, by a volunteer at the Pentagon days after September 11, 2001 to thank those of us who escorted families to view the site where their loved ones died that horrific day. I am proud to have stood there with them, to have wept with them, to have heard stories about their loved ones, to have been present, available. It is one of my saddest, but proudest, days in the military
Proof of Life
•September 7, 2017 • 3 CommentsLast night I wrenched
Open my chest
Leaned over my desk
And let my heart flop out
Onto the page
It thumped and bled for a bit
Until the paper stained through
And I was long enough empty
I scooped it up and shoved
The mass back inside
Quivering
I sewed and shut that sodden chapter
Splattering
And wiped my hands on my jeans
So there we sat
Human and paper
Disfigured and dripping
I ached but was alive
I stood up and walked away
I should go back today
And save those wretched pages soon
Before they dry and congeal
Stick together and conceal
That sanguine proof of life
I once let loose
-ar
Painting: Island by Michael Sanderson
A repost.
Barrier
•September 5, 2017 • 2 CommentsI am traveling
On the spear tip
Of transition
At the speed
Of sound
So fast
You hear nothing
Of these good intentions
Only a deafening
Room-rattling
Boom
A sonic unraveling
Of my previous
Dimension
-ar
Artwork: Pepper Freedom
By Pepper Project on deviantart.com
Letting Go
•September 3, 2017 • Leave a CommentI am letting go of layers
Or are they letting go of me
I watch their downward drifting
Rocking back and forth by breeze
Cradled quiet on their journey
A silent lullaby
I hang with each one in the air
Once supple flesh now crackling dry
I choose to watch their falling
My nature aches to be reminded
How very short a season lasts
Born sycamore instead of pine
I was made to shed this skin
Grey rolls of cardboard slipping slight
Leaning with the wind I have a look
At pieces scattered left and right
I shake the weight of newborn branches
Absorb the fading warmth and light
I was not made to endure seasons
While remaining straight and green
From root to tip, where blackbirds grip
The travel of the earth reveals me
-a.r.
Painting: Sycamore By Yvonne Pecorino Mucci
Another relevant repost, letting go is always a lesson for me, embodied in the trees in my front yard as fall approaches.
Monsters
•September 2, 2017 • Leave a CommentI make monsters
out of molehills
as I toss my hair
and try to skip
over
and around them
or I blithely think
“I’ll kick them down”
but by then
they have already grabbed
my ankles
yanking hard
causing me to stop and sink
and who can skip
or think or kick
or blithely do anything
when you’re up to your knees
in monster’s muck
not me apparently
and so today
I simply
look and lock eyes
monster a monster
and wonder if they know
just who it is
they have in tow
-a.r.
Demon pet Painting: A Girl and her Demon Pet, by Omar Rayyan
This is a reposting of a poem that has become, I guess always is, relevant again. Also because I feel the month of October picking up speed towards me.
As Summer Ends
•August 28, 2017 • Leave a CommentI envy the distant heat
Lightning between spectres
Dark clouds electric
Shrouds of static connection
The spark and quick response
Of attraction so fast
The charges meet and clash
With silent gasps and winks
Before the rest of us
Give thought to wince or blink
-a.r.
Would Rot
•August 25, 2017 • Leave a CommentRotting old sills
Let in winnowing light
I will witness the day with
Decomposing delight
-a.r.
sometimesihatemycat 