I don’t agree with classic gender roles.
They always seemed irrelevant to me.
A human first, ignoring separate goals,
I don’t agree.
Of course I understand biology,
but skeletons and muscles aren’t souls,
and consciousness connotes some liberty.
Simplistic attitudes are full of holes,
and fundament is shit’s nativity.
Oblivious to idiot controls,
I don’t agree.
(Roundel)
It’s usually not hard to wait till noon
to break my fast. I never had a yen
for food on waking – I would just as soon
let most the morning pass without. Back when
I was a kid with parents who’d cocoon
me if I let them, over and again
insisting breakfast is the vital meal?
My stomach always argued – no big deal.
(Ottava Rima)
Succeeding weeks of rain, the air’s so clean
it slaps my cheeks and soothing coats my throat.
I’m walking to the Metro, and the scene
is gentle as a promenade. I float
on foot through color, like an antidote
to mudslides, teeming gutters, trees that could
no longer clutch the liquid earth. I note
no threat or peril in this neighborhood.
(Huitain)
The nightly call I never want to make
that she would miss, although we little speak –
a check-in of some kind that doesn’t take
much time but happens 7 days a week –
last night produced a circumstance unique
enough to mention here. She called me back
and thanked me for advice, with no critique,
toward love, and veering out of habit’s track.
(Huitain)
The older I become, the more I hate
behavior impolite or words that try
to rile. I have learned to modulate
the older I.
I never went for any sort of lie.
There’s murk and chaos in dishonest state.
Exaggeration makes me question why.
But what I truly seek to abnegate
is ordinary rudeness. Till I die
I’ll try to gentle-speak and soft-create
the older I.
(Roundel)
I noticed failure and it puzzled me.
A person I respect and know is smart
decided to restrict her tendency
to buy another purse. I watched her start.
I heard the resolution to be free
of sales for half a year. No shopping cart
would tempt her, on the screen or in the store.
She lasted 40 days and bought some more.
It wasn’t an addiction – that was clear.
It didn’t rise to be a test of will,
and reason didn’t get to have a voice.
My friend shook off restraining atmosphere,
rebelling that she’d let no rule instill
obedience. She flounced and made her choice.
Oaks Bottom was our site on Saturday.
Two miles and a half of out and back,
between the rains, between the swamp and sway
of moss and lichen, on a muddy track.
The owls we requested were away,
but ducks were dipping down without a quack.
Blue herons graced our vista – awkward stalk,
as if the mud beneath them stalled their walk.
(Ottava Rima)
Obnoxious was the attitude last night.
And boring was the wish to disappear.
The tone morose, the body language tight,
one might assume there’s suffering. It’s clear
the teenager would rather not be near
the family. Big deal. That’s no surprise.
It’s not a disability or queer.
We love, but can’t respect affect’s disguise.
(Huitain)
Fatigued and travel-stressed, I rested well
last night and woke an hour late today.
I had alone-time then, a pleasant spell
of news and coffee, and I got to play
the solitaire I wished. I’d things to tell
and hear when she returned. A small delay
before a bath I filled with stretch and pose –
the hosting dog beside me and adoze.
(Ottava Rima)
“I can’t keep track of where you are,” Mom said.
My brother asked, “You’re flying off again?”
My oldest friend observed I often head
up north to spend some days with family.
I have no wanderlust. In fact I dread
my absence from the nest I’ve built for me.
Around my house a lot, the truth instead
is you and she and he are home-stuck, when
I venture (never far) where loving led.
(Magic 9)
 | sputterpub on Old Haunt |
 | zumpoems on Old Haunt |
| sputterpub on Master of Destruction |
 | groomie on Master of Destruction |
| sputterpub on Vacuum |
Sputterpub's Blog 