Poems
The shadow shined sunset on the city.
The wind slow-whipped and rippled.
Can light be a light bed sheet that cools
Like a night lit summer night?
Can the moon, indecisive,
Make the whole world?
Yes! Yes! Yes!
And yes.
Tonight, and sunset held the city
Skyscrapers in each hand
Like linen in the arms of
A languid launderer
Lap-thwap-snap
Snapping each
Thrice
Before:
clothes-pinning them
^to the horizon line^
~ Wynn ~
Sad today.
That welcomed warm sad.
The sad you want to stay.
That certain sad missing piece.
You’ll never know peace,
Without this missing piece.
Sad day right day to be with
That thing. That: -thing-thing-.
The only beautiful: -thing-thing-.
Rain day, sane day, window-pane day.
I’ve been casting not casting -Love.
Love Itself: That: -Thing-Thing
This welcomed sweet May rain.
This wonderful day to share with
-no one- or -only one-
So much grief in Beauty
That lost quiet sweet
-sad- sweet quiet loss.
Hope we meet for Ancient
Love before we die.
Long sad old soul Love.
Perhaps later, plan our days.
Talk of past dreams, today dreams,
Future dreams: Even that dream.
Sad today.
That welcomed warm sad.
The sad you want to stay.
~ Wynn ~
Binary Poetic
What’s Poetry gonna do about it?
One
Pen-Brushed-Bristled-Bulldozers
She’s got this.
Poetry of Power.
Power Poetry.
The Poetry of Women in the new millennium.
Mighty metaphor.
Super simile.
Subject what
Subject you will:
Dog. Apple.
Cat. Zucchini.
Race. Hate. Crime.
Birth. Motherhood.
Poetry of Power.
Power Poetry.
The Poetry of Women in the new millennium.
Push down the canvas.
Eat expression- Poetry.
Take it!
Punch down the poem.
Signify this- Poetry.
Like it!
What’s Poetry gonna do about it?
What’s Poetry gonna say about it?
Whatever she tells it to.
Power Poetry of Women in the new millennium.
Even zucchinis are up for grabs.
Bulldoze-Brushed-Beatific to the floor.
Kick its ass- then step on it.
Make the metaphors go soprano.
Zero
The good men today are all shamed, ashamed
Of yesterday, when they weren’t here to do anything shameful.
The good men today are all missed, remiss
About yesterday, when they weren’t here to be missed for.
The good men today, mourn for this day, when they were here today
Missed, but remiss, because they were filled with shame.
The good men today have nothing
But everything to say and can’t say it.
Great-Great-Grandpa left good men with impotent ink.
~ Wynn ~
It is definite just before death, I will rest my hand,
On this necessary neglected bay window.
But will I be absolved to keep the memories of:
When I held your soft creased palms, honest and adored in mine,
When your so close fingers, soft swept open my hard sullen knuckles,
When our acquitted embrace meant I made it, meant you made it,
Meant we made it?
Will I release reassured the persistent insistent long call of your touch,
Knew everything about this -right now- kind of unkind living,
And all the sins a soul will save to save itself?
~ Wynn ~
The More Store
We sell more more than any other More Store.
If you know before you go, why go? Where's the emotional significance?
If you don't let the world in because it's so predictable... you don't go anywhere.
Other peoples' problems. I wish they'd sit alone and listen to yesterday. Hear what the greats, the ones not afraid to sit alone and then say something from the place of their alone, said.
There was no reason for Emerson to publish.
There was no reason for Einstein to publish.
We got lucky with Emily. But how many Emily's are out there? Hiding in rooms?
You interact with the world.
The world wants more interaction.
More and more and ...
You can't afford more?
Well, you have to give more.
More is all we sell at this store.
The More Store!
The One Stop Only Shop anywhere in the world:
The More Store!
We sell all the more you will ever need for your more.
And what's more?
We sell more more than any other More Store.
The one stop shop for all your more needs.
More. More. More.
What's in store? More.
What's in the More Store?
More. More. More.
We are asked to do a thing.
Not like go to the store and pick up some milk.
Or have this partner or drive this pretty machine.
No. Something. Make something.
Teach people to smile in a certain way by trusting your own smile to be the greatest thing you do all day. Feel every part of yourself in that smile beam. Show the world what that means.
Or you have the idea of the way a thing looks.
You have some idea of the color a brush could make to best show what your eye sees and tells your insides.
The burden of that vision is the sharing of that.
We have the dream not to dream or to have some goal.
We have the dream because the dream is our duty.
Our dreams are not our goals.
Our dreams are our instruction manuals.
Follow them.
+he Ghos+
~ Wynn ~
The first Saturday morning in October at Massabesic Lake.
The world is in masks. The trees are in technicolor.
Autumn in New England, when Mother Nature reminds the Country what color really is.
Autumn foliage season begins in New Hampshire. The eyes only see 4k desktop wallpapers.
Professional photographers. Japanese family vacation photographers. Lesbian couple on park bench for breakfast photographers.
~ Wynn ~
We feel so uncomfortable
Saying the word soul.
In the morning:
We dress
Our children for school.
Then march
Them off to war.
In rooms:
Full of
Semi-automatic clouds of chalk.
Full of
The lingering smell of pencils.
And tomorrow:
Take an eraser
To a predictably bloodied world.
We feel so uncomfortable
Saying the word soul.
~ Wynn ~
She's afraid to hope.
The spider in my window;
She's afraid of hope.
Black Widow Beautiful
And she (yes, she!) is
Afraid to hope.
Could it be this time,
(Yes, This Time!) the grass
(Yes, This Grass!) is actual
(In fact, actual!) green.
Actual factual Green.
Gracious grass green!
Black widow spider
(What a heart!)
(What power!)
In my Window
Eyes on green
Actual (In fact)
Factual green
Still afraid to hope,
Afraid of hope.
~ Wynn ~