Thursday, April 3, 2014

The Fool (A Poem)

Fool was the holiday
of my November,
the way the mundane
suddenly seemed spectacular,
long-winded chat boxes
wounding words and night
down to half-meant
sentiments typed so well.
This was the mortar
of a perceived forever,
invisible stone that
crumbled beneath me in
well-penned letters
and theater-bathroom photos,
never mind the juvenile notion.
Two almost-lovers saying goodbye
in  Christmas-lit parking lots,
my turkey recipes and all
the well-meant invitations
evolving into counter-top kisses
and half-watched movies,
the drunken look that
clouded her eyes at the mention
of something serious,
and a heap of song lyrics
that once meant something
now only the stray words
to lost melodies I barely remember,
a voice and static,
all vintage-transistor-like
and none of it sounding of her.

Written for Poets United.


  1. Wow. Good typing, well penned letters ... I fell for that once, not knowing then that a fool and his muse are eaily parted ... more fool the drifter and more fooled me. Only lyrics on counters ... yes.

  2. a perceived forever...
    oy, been a fool for a few of those along the way...
    and of those whose croons suddenly seem more
    about themselves than any other...

  3. Yeah i was resing recently in Tom Cheethams. " Green Man , Earth Angel " , that we are conditioned to get spooked by "The Canon" you know, artists and poets are too awesome to be me , but really , we are all artists and poets and what a world it would be if more people really embraced that . I think EcoPsychology has a lot to offer in this direction ....
    Love your work..cheers mate

  4. Half-meant sentiments typed to well... I love that line.

  5. Wow, I love this one. Such a cool write.

  6. you paint the ache. i guess that's the poet's province, yes? ~


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