On the porch observing…

On the porch observing…

ocean waves hammering rock boulder
Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

I have been battling a sinus infection for some days… wrapped up in my room, like a tomb just trying to get back to myself.  Sinus infections are like migraines inside your face, you can literally touch the pain and push it around inside the spaces behind and around the eyes.  Not complaining, just explaining.  Just something I deal with… people have it much worse than me… although I must admit I am waiting for the day when lack of breath will kill me.. it almost did a few times when I was a teen, asthma attacks where they had to jack me full of adrenaline…. where I was pacing about for 2 days unable to sleep.  I have nightmares of drowning and it is odd always knowing what most likely will be my ultimate end… lack of breath.

I wrote these today out on the porch, in conjunction.  In fact I wrote the second poem in the middle of the first and then finished the first.  The older couple interrupted my mojo but then inspired it… life is indeed strange these days, I hope it remains that way.


coming of the rain” 7.4.2018

among all this bounty

how can I feel such sorrow

so hollow;

the coming of the rain

far off rumbling

tremors in the air

the birds feel cautious

quiet, huddling

not the usual songs of summer

perhaps it is the fireworks

non rhythmic throngs

of bursts of bombs

leaves, here and there, begin to twitch

singular drops

seem to have met their marks

as my country celebrates

I sit here

waiting

for the coming of the rain


7.4.18

an older couple walking down the street

speaking in a foreign language

(russian I think)

they seem content

as much as body language presents

their forms

reflections on the side of my car

as they pass

in conversation

might I know their story

and be distracted from my own


DMK Note… I used the term “older couple” on purpose… I had to help my father do something the other day and he remarked that the client we were meeting is a strange young guy.  That guy had to be at least 20 years my elder… so I wanted to have the reader of this poem use their own idea of “older”… it is so relative, I will not reveal how old the couple walking actually was, it does not matter.

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