No Encomia No Suggestions

I really don’t want testimonials
or compliments. I don’t need your advice
to guide me how to take what never thrills
my heart, which you have proffered more than twice.
No more do I desire prompts from you
or urging to acknowledge graciously
a lot of praise. My earnest point of view
includes evaluation aimed at me.

For I conclude I’m critically correct,
assessing poetry and written art,
and so I know my own is fairly good,
I’m able to observe how I connect,
and know when I’m performing well and smart.
So please don’t plus or minus me with should.

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How to Have a Cold

For decades every cold progressed the same –
Day 1 dry throat, and then a load of snot,
resulting in a lasting cough, with name

bronchitis (wracking, shuddering I got
and even hurt my torso once or twice),
but I was younger then and smoked a lot.

I gave tobacco up. I paid a price
but now I get a cold with little cough.
And when I get infected it’s not nice

how long it takes to blossom and move off.
A week of drier throat it seems to bring,
for even stagnant water in a trough

is ever changing, just like everything
around me, be it virus, be it me.
At last incessant sneezing and a sting

of moving phlegm and stuck mucosity
besets me, and I weary all too fast.
There’s diminution in my energy.

And now I wonder how long this will last,
if this is just a cold in fact to blame.
Or am I by some other ill harassed?

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New Old Normal

I ventured out and walked, and I got wet.
The rain was torrenting but still I went.
I knew where I was going I would get

dried off, and I had extra clothes. Intent
on buying snacks and boarding bus and train,
I let my pants get wetter than I meant,

and though the dryer here removed the bane
of late November storming, I’m still cold –
that’s more because of age than due to rain.

The fact is, I’m surprised to be so old.
It wasn’t any goal I sought to gain,
but months amounted and the decades tolled,

and so I have to learn a brand-new how
to nurture-warm a corpus that’s upset
by chill. I double socks and sweaters now.

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Pedestrian Power

As far back as my memory extends,
I’ve liked to be in my own room, within
my home. But I soon learned my joy depends
on leaving to return to origin.
Appreciation rests on change, and spends
in wasting sediment. What’s more, I win
real ownership of where I put my feet.
So even now I willing take the street.

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The Threatening Threes

I know a 3 year-old (she’ll soon be 4)
who captured the idea that she controls
what happens and by whom and even more –
the way all eyes should aim. The parents’ roles
don’t matter, not to them: the weary souls.
And lately time among that family
is iffy pleasure shot with toddler holes.
She isn’t boss. The job’s now forced on me.

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The Windowless Forecast

It wasn’t much. The forecast boded ill,
but coastal California isn’t such
a hazard with regard to Autumn’s spill.
It wasn’t much.

When I heed media I’m out of touch.
I venture and find air that won’t fulfill
the threats reporters say to ply their clutch

at eyes and ears and minds that get a thrill
from peril like to gossip’s heady crutch,
that slows their pace and dampens down their will.
It wasn’t much.

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Her Nastiness

A specialist in negativity,
she’s honed her attitude for 60 years.
Her nasty childhood pathology
inspired her toward safety, it appears.
In love and life she chose to blunt her fears,
which bored her and embittered how she thought.
Her pretty face has twisted, and her tears
are swamped by alcohol her husband bought.

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Shouldering

His shoulder fits my palm exquisitely.
And though I’ve been besotted since his start,
there’s now a tender bony quality
that heats and even pulls my heart apart
to make an ever bigger space, where he
can safely lodge in love and memory.
I know and hope the boy will grow to man,
but I will cherish 7 while I can.

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Around About

I used to watch the news and sometimes look
around me on the bus, the train, the street,
and wonder who was packing what it took
to harm. Who had a knife in a discreet
location? Were there hidden guns aboard?
The folks around were varied, and benign
I had assumed, but media assured
me peril was about without a sign.

I never saw the evidence, and now
my queries on my peers are shifted so
I wonder who is feeling sick, or how
they’re dealing with depression. I don’t know
how many suffer reflux, headaches, gas,
and who believes their misery will pass.

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Bucket Cup

I got reminded viewing my own verse.
I read some lines I drafted just last week,
and triggered memory that could be worse,
regarding images I’ve set to seek.
I’m nothing medical, yet I can nurse
today intention that is not unique
for me but cherished. I’ve no bucket list,
but here’s a cup that’s not to be dismissed.

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