I wonder sometimes if I am being honest as the words sort of come to me whole cloth.  Can I be truly honest with ideas flowing through this big coffee filter of a head ?  I suppose I have not tried to lie with poetry, that might be a challenge to embark on. How would one go about that anyway?  Something to ponder on a Friday morning (in the northeast US anyway).  So in lieu of the topic I just expounded about, here are a couple of unrelated poems from early 2018.  As usual thoughts, comments and bearer bonds are all appreciated.

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“untitled” 2018

are you

a winter sun

just as bright

just as distant

 

waking the world

warm summer to the south

a cold distance to the light

from my north

 

frigid dawn

for those above

and I wait

axis shift

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“heat under the skin” 1/2018

the skin aches for sin

grasps clamors claws

lust gnaws

rakes upon flesh

raw embers

sweat simmers

ready to mount

desire boils

blind white

fire blisters

poised to strike

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Nothing witty to say but I will post a music link as I am known to do…

Toad the Wet Sprocket “Nightingale Song”

great song for driving around with the windows down.