#freshwater fires stillwater reflections

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.25.22 “I’ll Get It Right Next Time”

Like a disgruntled painter I’ve thrown buckets of paint Over this poem again, And again and again Hoping that I’ll get it right The next time Ghosts of these letters May haunt me, and the final piece I’m running out of whitewash, Sawyer Even this will be covered over In the coming winters’ snow Letting me try once more To get my feelings right

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.19.22 “In the Beginning...”

It began with a word Just a whisper Begging to be heard A little word to be heard did occur

Soon came a setting With the drapes all in blue Setting up scenes not worth regretting What a wonderful hue

A scene is incomplete without a cast Longer and longer the lines would appear How on heaven or earth would it last Words are meant to be shared, you must hear

So one sat the others, in a circle down plain Preparing themselves before a large herd Began to speak something ordinarily mundane “It began with a whisper, just a word that was begging to be heard”

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.18.22 “Autumn Loving All For You”

I am a cold breeze, autumn calling Out the door, the stairs, I’m falling Like the leaves beside me I am in love with all that i see

There is a iceblock on my shoulder Chipped off of the winter’s boulder Were I any bolder, I’d be out there now with you In the fair's long lines and queue

Where are the chimes upon the wind Sharing words I’d not rescind Whisper sweet, sweet lullabies Not a single word are lies

Across the yard I’ll stride Full of gusto, full of pride And my heart, it aches and whines For love’s field is strewn with mines

As fledgling as the flock flies Like an arrow where the warmth lies And you’re calling out my name Time for dinner, no more blame

So the sun’s set and I’m trying To sum up what you’re not buying Just a minute more my dear I’ll be home again, no fear

I’ll be home again, no fear Tending to love, sincere

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflection 11.13.22 “Forever Young, 2010, Mandolynn”

You turn to say, “Are we doing this shit?” Trust me babe, I really do want to hit Just that you're the first girl that I ever kissed A moment too fast and I'd have to remiss You took my hand I and followed you down Into the valley where the river, I drown I've got it bad, drink the water, my head Spinning and sinning and flush full of red Honestly, I'm ready to go But, truthfully, I really don’t know It's a kiss, then I'll miss, but I'll see you again? But after tonight will it be any more than A summer night where we came to my home Imagination may wander, but both our hands roam Hearing the sounds of our instrument moan Pressing our bodies and changing the tone Truthfully you taste sweeter than pie Now I think I understand why We take part in these carnal delights Even in the dark, you can feel all the sights You taught me, you bought me, I gave you my time You wrought me to feel so sublime But you threw me off with your clarity Asking me now, to give up just a part of me Losing my status you ripped from me Not soon long after, I did not see You Again

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.6.22 “Will Call”

Waiting at will call Payphone in hand Quarters on the counter I don’t believe You ever intended To call me back Did you?

“No” calls my anger Knowing I deserve Better than this Silence only found Within my private glass The world passes by An unmoving spot “No” you will not call

Amphitheatre full of croaks Of cloaks, and jokes; just me Waiting for the will to call Will you call back? Did you ever intend To return anything of mine My left breast, empty Now nests red-breasted robins Spring is coming back Without and unlike you

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.5.22 “5th of November”

I will try to remember This fifth of November, Food and friendship remain Beyond all the struggles and pain

Beneath the paling sky Weary, worn, with cup run dry At friendship’s font shall I refill By will be well and tell with skill

A piece of bread, broken for me Shared over time, not taken for free Bartered or haggled to have a piece of mine Given just as freely for a moment so fine

If we were meant to be isolated Constant thoughts to be contemplated Why must the forest grown in friendship Harbor fruit, succor, and roots that trip

Tumble over kind words, and kinder rest Found in the limbs bearing just one nest This day was a good day I must do my best to remember it that way

Too often will I dwell Upon the dreary days, found at the bottom of a well Like hell, I’ll suffer my mind When all I need to do, is remind

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.22.22 “Love, Of The Theatrics”

Center stage spotlight Limelight love’s sight Warm and vibrant and loud Until the lights go out Leaving you standing Alone in that same theater Waiting for an encore To lift the heavy curtain Once more And fill the hall With light and The call of your name

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.17.22 “Penny for a Peddler”

Consume me more Observe me more Oh passerby, goodbye You try to gawk and marvel As though I’m made of marble No city statues writhe as I You look down in modesty, your eye Catches sight of my bin of pay Off you swing and stride along your way I’m worth the enjoyment But not the parting of your earned mint Just a dollar will do For the pleasure of view Means more to me Than it will to you So consume me Enjoy what you see Grease the palms and alms Why the qualms? Of rewarding hard work

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.17.22 “Moving Out”

Burning books and burning bridges Pruned tree limbs and causing stitches Family trees Opportunities

Books stacked higher than smoke stacks rise Stinging, burning ash in my eyes Goodness please Pass with ease

Toss the fragment of myself From the tallest burning shelf Ripped seams Fallen beams

Archipeligogic dreams of man Pursuit of peace is the plan Never rested Always tested

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.15.22 “Novemberences”

Will November forgive me These remembrances These winter delight trances Seeking entrances When the month and year Pursue their exit with grace

With little haste Do I attempt to race the sun When the moonlight will suffice Any advice Adhered is near to me when I look up The bonfire ashes mix with constellations Constant, burning consternation

Autumn is coppered by inevitable spring Abated only by winter’s snug embrace Will this denouement flutter Golden brown with sunset leaves Leaving behind the summer kissed moments Sunburnt hearts inked where sleeves should be

Rigid fingers prod leaf pile coals Rustle up gravity’s grateful embrace I miss the walkways, filled with flame Off the top of your head, my gaze fixed Finding your glance returned In every turning leaf

Will I forgive November These remembrances These autumn numb dances Clawing out When the page and chapter close Chased out to where the wind blows

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.3.22 “A Day Is A Day”

A day is the way that you spend it Be it good, or as bad as you willed But a day is a day, you must admit Whether or not you end it fulfilled

As swiftly the robin first takes to flight So rise, you and I to our day The morning too quickly turns into night Uncaring if we’ve earned our pay

The flowers will open and close after dusk Unaware that their hours, the norm Still you bustle and busy ‘til you’re but a husk Too afraid of somebody that’s warm

A day is a day like any other Like life and like love it must die Please enjoy it for one and another Whether quick or in leisure, mundane, or Monday you must try

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.27.22 “Suburban Street Sermons”

Loaves and fishes Lacquer glued to hatchbacks Catholic mass packed minivans Biding their time at the gas pump Lined up for the Blood of Chrysler Bag of rye chip for the body Aunties playing euchre with the Eucharist Always looking at their wrist Waiting on hand-me-down time Peckish at meat on Lent Packed for their rent paying children Children be damned if the river lets flow If their parents let go of the rosary Wringed around pocketed posies Moseying down the nuptial aisle Of their in-law guile and grandchild dream

Father and Holy-Ghost, known in the chalice Hand in hand with malice and mallet Took to heart the lessons of the cross Too easily crossed, pompous, pious, punitive Lost passions too diminutive, replaying greatest hits Red-lipped whine-mom night-eyed silent Gossip in the pews of the son’s political views Between choir and prayer answered on cue Pretty little liars accept forgiveness Hard to impress those on their knees to accept White-biked, summer hiked baptized Son Pass this ichthus mass, paint your skies not eyes blue

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.28.22 “CB Squared”

We should have been swapping storied tales Not scars and fails Bail-outs and injuries When did we Become stitched together Pieces glued back together from childhood dues Regrowing our tails like lizards Medicated Getting faded Memories to dull the pain Maintain the game That we’re okay Forget the past Full mast ahead Pull down our sleeves and shed our needs Rip our prayer-tired knees And share our initials our name our blood Flood the fields with our attempts To break free the yoke That kept us rushing forward

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.26.22 “Time Is A Weird Soup”

Love holds like a slotted spoon Sieving, seizing   Finding gold with a gentle embrace Before letting go Parting fingers linger and unlace Persisting traces of what was Warmth that filled belly and soul Burned and turned dour Yet present once more To offer that second sip Upon scalded lips

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.21.22 “Lovers all full hearty   Love is all fool hardy   Lovers all full hearted  Weave the world to not be parted“

A baker’s bread tastes more divine When made for their darling dear The tender rolls made serpentine Prepared as though for Guineveire Halls are filled with somber songs The choir led by bardic longing muse When parted to join the throngs The melodies heard amuse The farmer’s stead a drafty warm Passed by with idle thought Patched with thatch for winter’s storm For milkmaid’s wife by lovestruck sot Why now with pomp and praise Do deeds betray such magnificence What gifts to cause amaze Gone are thoughts that guide all sense A flower may bloom by any such name But a poet’s heart is carried by birds To whom they find love, have no shame No gift may satisfy like their lover’s words Honeysuckle darling dearest mine For a poet’s word is a delicate petal Strung from a pen silver-tongued to enshrine Enduring beyond conquerors war-wearied mettle Pluck a page like a turning autumn leaf Burnt from the days and in need of the sun Where all lover’s look when in need of relief To their craft made for you, whom without is undone The writer’s lines wind like root-rife forest paths With purple prose and bawdy eloquence Action seen in voice and ink on epigraphs and epitaphs Weary warm begrudgingly, but always bereft of common sense Blindly reaching for the stars above Who else but fools, could pursue this love

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.11.22 “Rain, Rain, Go Away”

These cloudy skies Never seem to dry Blue eyes, blue light Hiding in the twilight Caught like narcissus Staring at some missus Seeing all I think I am In another lamb Swept in wolf’s clothes Breaking free of all oaths Wool pulled up over I never found four leaf clovers Luck is a sleight of the hands Never dealt to understand Why these clouds never part Like shadows on my heart Stuck staring at bridgewater Shoeless, I’ll falter When the sun peeks through Matching blue to brown eyes and you

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