#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 11.23.22 “Star-Dating”

Don’t you want to go and gaze at the stars? Out past the playground Where we used to dream of reaching Mars Look a bit closer and see it shine bright and round Instead of chasing cash and cars Lay here on the cold hard ground All the spinning stars at the bottle’s bottomed bars Just as storied in the sky, I’ve found Tilt back your head and see Cassiopeia Sitting center high and flipped Ignore the nagging amygdala Feel the cold of space and soil’s script Too many stories to share for just one winter’s night Look closely to see Ursa, major and minor glow Pets astride the rising Orion, on left and right Brighter guiding northward Polaris will tell you where to go Northern star, not lights, will guide me to your terrace Lighthouse amongst the suburban sea Wishing you well with love to embarrass Singing sweet lullabies, story time ‘til you’re in love with me If I make up the stories will you really know? Of the bears and the barechested bowman Do lovers, fish, or crabs care for the worries below? A new twinkle above, a new story began Waiting like Santa’s snow patrol For forming clouds from the Northern Pole

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.30.22 “Losing Peter Pan”

When retirement arrives like sunset graduations Will the stairs ascend, like the corporate ladder Struggling, wrung for wrong, wrought with Wrung-out single-ringed, wrinkled iron hands Or slope down to the sandy scorching beaches and seas Setting dis-ease at ease and pleasing to the senses Senselessly both filled with violence Striking discordant moans across conscious sinew Oozing success like synovial fluid Lured on the promise of rest at the end of the rainbow Pot of gold rust bucket, luck it seems is tired too A liar, you are too wearily, warily acquainted with Antiquated in the scension denouement Reaching out a hand for your ma in the middle of the night Consumed by the capital, toothy maw gnawing Ear drums tinnitus timpani and trepanation Trepidation at the turning of the page Squiring towards the night of life With salt-soaked limbs that hang Like straw-man stuffed sinners in the fields Scaring away and attracting the murders Into the pastures and past-times of the those On the precipice of their time

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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 11.24.22 “One With Everything”

   End of day garbage bagged    Bagels over the shoulder    Stolen over the razor ribboned fence    This dough is worth the risk

   Sesame seed alms    Almost missed their mark    Dropped-lets, beneath back-climbed borders    Red summers are for petty-theft

   Waste not, want not, have not    Give knotted cheesy pull aparts    Fend off the growling, howling in the night    Act in shape, it will all come back around

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.29.22 “Unplug, or Other Thoughts of a Terminal Connection”

When did you stop loving yourself, As Narcissus did his Echo? In every grapevine Olive branch curl Stirring the pot Without any enemies Have you ever been tested? Done as best as you can? Had the questions That force each answer Sanitize hands not lives Let your desires work for hire Reaching higher in skill And pleasure Leaving only dust and Fatigue in each wake Each morning full of want Old gods were full of mistakes Cause earthquakes with each action Let those wells ripple Dip a little more than a toe Splash and dash Caught in a snowless snowglobe Risk the world for a chance To do more than be a mirror But be the lover

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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.20.22 “Tired of Tomorrow’s”

There’s a window somewhere In a house On a street Where I’ll peek Across the lawn From the walk I’ll see myself in the light In a home filled with warmth Not alone in a room, lights turned out

There’s a window somewhere In a house On a lane Where I’ll glance Across the gate From the sidewalk I’ll see myself working Employed and overjoyed With a word count to reach to the stars

I’ve thrown rocks at these windows Shouted my name The clatter doesn’t matter It all sounds just the same A small little dream That I mix in my meal Eaten atop of my officechairbed

Board up the windows I’m tired of light Shining too bright It pollutes out the night Sleepless I’ll wander the streets Looking for work still yet to be done From the out, looking in Sunrise, time to tuck-in

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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 11.14.22“Nightmares Don’t Play Fair”

And to the world clung winter night Clutching at torches untouched Cold and flame alike both bite Fear pulls tighter, bedsheets clutched

Behind twelve mares of pitch Comes the itch inside the brain Outside the window, nightmares hitch Tapping at the window, they’re here for pain

How damning is the dark? Desperate to hold Holy bones, as all holy things should be; frozen Should fortune favor the world to be bold How now must we be chosen?

With deep exhalation, relief in visible breath To simply make a cloud instead of parting one The ice in our veins and pipes will be our death Snowblind, still behind the sled, led undone,

Stomp knee-high, through damping drifts Towards hotter, higher climes? Weather changes, quarter past two sized hail shifts Smoke sails the horizon, burning towards heaven climbs

What use is the afterlife, if it is only after life well spent Warmed at flickering passion flame, At the cost of sacrilege, little desire to repent Midst the winter night, candle lights gather to game

Flickering, snickering, staggering dreams Alight in the company of friends and fiends Pulled from pantries with pastries and creams Have a bite of this moment of bliss within means

Pebble-struck windows from lovers or death Bring ice and bring fire, like wood to the hearth With this chest-clutched breath First or final, for all between are of equal worth

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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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