Human make fire
Keep warm
Survive night.
Human break rock
Cut tree
Make shelter.
Human Dig root, catch fish
Snare bird, make dinner
Human make fence
Plant garden.
Cage birds
Human take dirt
Build kiln, 
make pots
Human make charcoal
Fire burns hot
Human burn rocks
Make brick
Build furnace
Human smelt ore
melt bronze
Make sword
Go to war
Human dam river
Build mill
Steal work from water
Human fill valley
Human flatten mountain
Human make cold warm
Human make hot cool
Human make dark light
Human sing at night


Prompt today at poets united is ‘human’. A fascinating concept, I thought about how modern humans bred with Neanderthals, how we can hold love and hate simultaneously, how we sieze on minutiae amounts ourselves to differentiate when really we are the same. How this guy makes things from almost nothing: How so much of what we do has no meaning, no value, no staying power. And yet, there at the end of all things, when the last light of the last day has snuffed out, with none left to bury the last human standing, even then, beyond hope, there is Song



There is no creamy balm to soothe
The achy longing in my soul
The road to what lays beside me
Is long arduous treacherous

I could not go
I can avoid that trip forever
And stay in this hospital room
Watch them feed my tube

Take this pill, it will keep you awake
You’ll feel energized, and it will appear
You’ll get so much accomplished
But there’s no center in that pill
It’s no life saver neither
Everything you did with it
Is empty, schlocky, wrong

It doesn’t have to be this way
You could simply let go
But fearing pain won’t help
avoiding won’t make it so

My medicine is in anguish and 
Pain is the teacher, you’ve kept
Him waiting on your doorstep
Let him in, listen to him.
He won’t hurt you.


Rinse Drain Spin

Laundry is a cycle I despise

Endlessly washing clothes and socks and sheets

With sweat or soil stained

I want to take it from the drawer

And put it in the hamper

Let another handle the rest

My lotto wins would hire a laundress

20180619 dVerse Poet’s Pub quadrille challenge, a poem of 44 words, no less, no more.  One of them, cycle.

My surrender

Dear woman,
I know you don’t believe me
Or at least you don’t 
See what I see in you.
Don’t appreciate your
Hollows and your rounds.
So I will start slow.
My gaze will fall on you so gently
You might mistake it for the 
Way starlight caresses you.
With each breath I invite you
Into me, welcoming your scent
The perfume of your being.
You’ll talk, and that music will
Entwine, I’ll contribute the beat
Of my heart.
The space between us grows small
And full of the only thing that is truly real in this world.
A synapse.  Relish the electrons that make that leap.
My hands then approach
Like wild ducks upon the lake
These rough hands will surprise
Strong, solid, firm, yet so gentle, tender..
As they match the curve of your waist
Hot they are, in the small of your back, 
Fingertips across your scars,
Your buttery softness begins to melt
Pores open, defenses relax
Hips, warm and tremulous
The song goes on though words are gone
Like some etherial weaving
This is so right

I pretend that I am free

Striving to keep
This demonic imp
Bottled up in a jar
Oft he will leak out
Leering creepily

Some who attract his attention
Most would agree, at least, superficially
But plenty are more puzzling

There is so much beauty out there
And so many ways of appreciating it

This way is small, and ultimately empty

And yet I am blinded to her true radiance
By her breasts, her butt or her earlobes

To touch, to smell, to taste her skin
Massage her muscles, wash her foot
Thrust my hands into her long thick hair

Desire untrimmed, she lets me, and loves it
(note how, even here, I’m still hiding)
Delighting in her body, I’ll say it’s this, or that
But when that lust freely flows, the love
Bonds beneath that grows

All the feels

I spent far too long trying to stifle certain emotions. This is a futile effort. Emotions are an all or nothing thing, you don’t get a tray in the cafeteria, you can’t pick what you want. It’s all or numb.

I say to you,
Feel.  Let joy sweep you out to sea in it’s riptide
Let anguish rack you and shake you like earthquakes
Sobbing at the death of the moon
Relish the uncertainty playing ping pong inside you
Before you let go of the edge of the pool the first time
Let anger burn in your belly, feel it’s tension mounting.
these are gifts and guidance, lessons, let them in
Then let them go, each in turn,