Mr.Poppy – Senior Bunny.

Sooty fawn lop eared bunny
On the carpet at my feet
One hand stroking along your back
With forefinger and thumb brushing your sides
From the back of your head
Slowly down to your tail
Head to tail

Teeth clicking in continual happiness

I want to brush away all your worries
Brush away the arthritis in your back legs
Soothe away your addled-ness
Stroke away your old-age complications
Reinforcing your family membership
For right now is companionship and love

Your love is not overshadowed by your moods
You are therapy for me

(\__/)
(=’.’=)
(“)_(“)

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California Notebooks, Dec. 2013

I’m sharing here a very thoughtful poem by the clever http://annamosca.wordpress.com/

California Notebooks, Dec. 2013.

could it be pain
a chime – to call your
attention inside
.
to probe and identify
things lost in the mud
of daily duties
.
to face them
to make them
clear and clean
.
tiding up a messy
self hoping for
lesser luggage

Writing Frustration.

Trying to write
How I feel
Get it out
Consistently real

Desiring neatness
Of form

Or at least
A pattern of words
Message enhancing
Creative flow

But each line
Takes me further away
From a pleasing origin
Towards the unknown
Scattered
Everywhereness
Of fragmented
Poetic leftovers

Or was it
A mixed bag
Of seeds
Requiring germination?

Trying To Make Sense Of It All.

Friends around me
Can only momentarily distract
the loneliness
I feel
within your limited affections.
When you hold back
uneasy in your own mind
Uncomfortable
For reasons I can’t fathom
and you forget
the importance of expressing.

Your touch
is just that
Conveys no emotion
no depth
no excitement
Nothing that matters
To me

Reaching out
into the nothingness I feel
Grasping desperately
for solidity
Will my grounding disappear
And I fall away
from all that I know
Even though
there are times
I want it to be so

to

Escape from pain
Relationship drain
Growing disdain
Won’t refrain
From trying again

Retrain brain
Happiness reclaim
Again and again

Or else,
go insane
World reframe
Into my domain
Everything contain
Control, detain.
My
Walled-in
Fortress
of solitude

The Bearded Man Story.

There once was a gentleman fair
Who experimented with his facial hair
Let it grow without shaving
A change of face he was having
Wondering how many people would stare

Preconceptions that it wouldn’t suit
Or wonder if his handsome jawline dilute
But after a week of growing
The soft hairs were flowing
His wife would stroke it saying “cute”