don't you see it?

don’t you see it?

absent blemishes
cloaking
snarly hearts

tip-toed and back
black—hot
and burning
the images
that you were so afraid to see
that you couldn’t look…above them

commas to semi-colons
to fancies
of sententious grip
roaring, with punctuation
but lost in a beginning
or even an end, to the middle

but then let up your hand
terraced with wiggly avenues
that are no longer
like
creased arteries
deadened in their depths
and so broodingly tepid
in their wedged fascinations

vested in air
and the philosopher’s burden of laughter

kept until now
until it was always
there,
then.

and I remember a story
about when my father
hitch-hiked
all the way to California
…and into a library
a homeless man
who knew about books on Montana
puts his hand on my father’s
shoulder and says:
‘ “Norm, do you see the…”

light?

--Then and Now
Now and Then
and Then…
and Then…
always—

the light
out of polydactyl
playful
lummox -ed paws

…is falling…

off the universe
trapezoids
in shaky wags

Aaron: don’t you see it?

superman

square jaw
steely gaze
                of man
     
       as hands are drawn to hips
                 in fists
       resolved to perpendiculars
              of form
              of self
              to earth.

in flight
    in fight
    in face
   
             angles were his 
                      only angles

            all-spoony-for-lois
            aesthete
            
            so noble
            as to be alien
            to the auguring premises
            of flesh.

punctuation dwells (a haiku poem)

punctuation dwells
like angels in mantel walks
latticing hyle steepes

as we walk

the ageless yellow of leaves
    that hang, so far, you can't touch them
   till they fall
            heavy with wonder

  drifting down
    to be forgotten
 by freshly fallen snow
   and air
  that leaves you breathless

  and finally
           spring comes
           confused
           soft
           (and gentle):
       like footsteps
         clumsily drawn
         beneath outstretched arms
         cupping glasses of wine

     then june
        cloaks the orange of sunsets
            as days last
      while flat arcs
       of rubber heels
       collapse
       beneath weightless gravity

    ...as we walk...

    and laughter
      remembers...
     to forget

just shooting around

love and space
clandestinely arranged
in my palm.

feeling the weight
of oceans
unfolding

holding
a ball,
sluiced,

by thin black channels

breathing,
from the shoulders out

moving

in signature time
to the dribbling
of felt tip fingers

staining,
the air,
with stanzas.

stopping.
shoulder-width
and stationed still

quarter note gets the beat

leaving
the mundane business
of earth

for heights untethered

while hoping
--just once--
for cursive elegance

back-spun and end-to-end visiting
treasure trove in diameter
the ball
Now
out of my hands...

nylon cross-hatch
hung and hanging
from a thin metal lip

chiaroscuro circumscription
of space
all caroming down.

The Lyrical Musings of a Software Engineer (or, my poetry blog)

Hello everyone,

Per the suggestion of a good friend, I am starting up this blog as a forum in which to share my poetry.

As the title might suggest, I am a Software Engineer by profession, and, in addition to coding, I also love to write poetry, having developed a burgeoning interest in this area just a few years ago; an interest which I have enjoyed cultivating ever since.

I not only welcome but greatly appreciate any feedback and equally so enjoy discussion.

I do hope you might enjoy some of that which I have to share.

Thank you for taking the time to stop at my web-site.