Leena

somewhere some time...
perhaps tonight

a young girl
rests her head
on her grandmother's lap
watching Leena Horne
on the Dick Cavett Show
some sixty, or so, years ago

Grandma nestles the child
closer and whispers
honey
honey...
do you hear that...
do you hear that...
coughing

do you hear that coughing
in the background
that's me, that's me
many years ago
when I was young
about your age

I was a big fan
of Leena Horne
back then,
when I was young
and I wanted
to hear her sing
and speak
so much
that I asked my father
to drive over
to the studio
because I'd heard
on the radio
that she'd be there
later on TV.

and there she was
my idol, my hero
Leena Horne
not twenty feet away
so eloquent, so
stylish and beautiful
Full of poise and class
and as witty as I'd dreamed

and then, suddenly
from nowhere
came this scratchy
itchy cough
it just
wouldn't stop
and only got worse

the ushers
with great politeness
escorted me
from my seat
to an outer room

gave me some water
and a hard candy
they tried to help
consoled me
but the cough
just got worse

I cried and coughed
coughed and cried
and without monitors 

in the room

like there might be today
I missed Leena's entire
interview and song

Leena
always the sweetheart
had heard about
what had happened
and after the applause
after her exit
from the stage
she sought me out

Leena bent down
and hugged me
dried my tears
with the sweater
she had about
her shoulders
and kissed me
on the cheek

Leena told me
it was alright
that I was brave
and sweet
spoke to my father
and then gave me
a ride home

The red sweater
the one you're 

covered with now 

was...


-dp-

2-12-16

> dedicated to my Dad, who for unexplained reasons had a framed picture of Leena Horne on his desk and would claim she was his wife.

absence

I checked her room
everything I loved 

was gone

her mother stood 
rattling knobs
a fixture at the door             

revealing only rage

this shuttered house 
conceals only memories

and the tiny absence

she permitted
home to be

-dp-
4-6-15 

decline

this decline from middle class
to a place less brightly lit
long days lost in narrow streets
between ancient bordered brick
to my cracked stucco walk up
climb those dark sooted stairs
hard steps I rise to view bleak

alleys lined with dirty dented

dumpsters spilling loose waste

boldly to vagrant pools of

homeless piss running gently

from crudely boarded doorways
where flies buzz and feed
on randomly aged excrement
and taco bell treats of spurted puke

I wipe the wonder of
whose used condom
there dangling from my
tired steel toed boot 
resting now lifeless on
my welcome mat wanting
only for swift revival

at last, I'm here, home

at my torridly torpid room
bearably safe from this
last little patrolled lost corner
of enraged desperate city
after crackers and bread
I  shower cold stained as
water drains past my ankles

I pull the cord and kill the
swaying light bulb clinging
from wire nuts to the cracked
and peeling damp ceiling
pulling back thin sheets I

lay my boots and body down

-dp-

3-21-15

like gravity

I lean               

perpetually
towards earth

step by step
I ease along 

its arc 

with steady 

plodding 
footfalls

each step
induces descent 

exposes fault  

hastens

my course    

towards destiny

draw me

instruct me

ease this pace

guide me

closer 
to gravity

-dp-

1-24-15

drawn

I lean

perpetually
towards earth

always
step by step
directly
               
treading
the curves
of your heart  

drawn
helplessly                               
by gravity  

-dp-
12-10-14    

flutter

must review these portals

slip behind two sleepy lids
reflect from darkened lenses
reel around things best hid
watch old images scatter     
flutter down my optic nerve
bounding back much clearer 
fill up my dream reserve     
hold that thought and climb
to a daydream yet to seek


-dp-
12-1-14

lost in a life (eternal)

I married

worked
the same job
for thirty years
raised a daughter

lived a life
that applied
to no one

until I found
that hope
is eternal
and love
love is all

-dp-
11-21-14



(eternal)


I married
worked
the same job
for thirty years
raised a daughter
lived a life
that applied
to no one

until I found You,

and now 
I know
that hope
is eternal
and love
Your love
is all

-dp-
11-21-14

still alike

beach leaves

dazzling dusk
stunning reds
departing light

keeps us
facing westward
hand in hand
return to night

holding
hard to dreams
often shared
but unalike

turn us 

to our homes

once the same

but now apart

- dp-
11-12-14

nothing

I wish I had

what I had
before
a bed
a desk
a little more
a pot  to pee in
a book to read
some basic needs
So much to gain
so little to lose
so much was lost
but one thing's for sure
it's worth having nothing
to be without you

-dp-
11-10-14

fingers

I wondered when

and what to do
when she asked
whether l hold hands
palm to palm
or with fingers
interlaced.

Caught off guard
I only said
I didn't know
I had never
given it much thought.

It seems to me
it always changes
from time to time
instance to instant.
So much like hugs
and even kisses
it's always the first time
that we remember.
 
-dp-
11-9-14

> pan

you could be my

Neverland darling. 
and I, after several costly
and complicated 
operations,
could be your sweet,
nearly pubescent,

Pan. 
friend of fairies,
captain of lost boys,        
foe of the evil captain hook.
clap your hands if you believe

-dp-

11-8-14

moisture in our way

seeking words of deference 

between our worlds apart
empty opposites divide us 
in rueful fits and starts
hollow hearts near empty 
so much to understand
no axe to hold  
our hands unfold
the solace of a tear
raise once resented ardor  
palpitations in our hearts
unexpected  shudders
and quivers in the dark
but feelings fail arousal
words don't fill the spot
that leave us cold
with love untold
and lips kept still apart

-dp-
11/6/14

comfort zone

It's funny

how comfortable
I feel
when I'm with you
Sometimes totally
other times very
still other times
much more 
than usual
Of course
most of the time
I find myself
by myself
alone
which is okay
now
Way better
than before
when I wept
whenever
I was alone
Now I feel
much more
like happy
Like happy
all of the time.

-dp-
10-24-14

press

lead me through tomorrow

there's hope within that ploy.
dreams of better days,           
soon here, or bound to come. 

moments shared together 
as only you can choose
to stay and hold, or
stay on hold, or simply

press release

-dp-
8-10-14

telltales

When I knock

on your dreams
scrape 
what I can
from your thoughts
will it matter
that I'm not
alone?

Am I stealing
your heart 
or are you 
holding it in,
there must be 
telltales that
somehow 
don't show.

-dp-
7-14-14

a part of tomorrow

   Visiting what might be tomorrow

I thought briefly of you, as though
blowing a dandelion too hard, watching 
its seeds scatter with the  breeze.
I thought of you, of us, dancing, 
spinning inside a crowd, drifting 
away with indifference.
  The music played on ever louder,
echoing as though the ballroom
were empty, but it was full. Full
of masked faces, and we were
ourselves masked, and costumed,
unable to recognize one another.
  We may have been close, perhaps,
or one of us may have left early,
thinking the other had gone
ahead, only to wind up lost 
on foggy streets, the hallow glow 
of street lamps and somber instinct 
to guide. Still, was it you, or I, 
who left first...
had we parted at all?

-dp-
6-3-14

whisper

I want to hear you 

whisper
ever so softly

are you asleep?
   
and know 
should I reply
it means bliss 

-dp-
5-25-14

four play

you could ride 

my tricycle
me on my
little red fire truck
pedal, pedal
round and round  
the driveway
circling and giggling
giggling and circling
closer and closer
around and around
until we
crash
softly
and play
another game


-dp- 
3-27-14
R5-11-14/Rattle-flintridge

scraps

I feel the edges

as I tear up
your letters, watch
pieces fall to the floor

where scraps scatter
below and about
some face up, but
most settle down  
                          
I gather them later
to rekindle
the fire we built
not so long ago
                        
but the embers
are cold and black 
and the ashes
have all blown away

only these scraps
in my fingers
remain, nothing
to bear but waste.
                      

-dp-
 5-9-14

routine

it was routine

I lacked 

before.

mixing oatmeal,

slicing apples 

peeling boiled eggs

for lunch.

slipping 

frozen dinners

into the microwave.

doing my laundry.

perpetual 

terminal

laundry.

Once 
I walked into 

the mississippi

and almost drowned,

like my father did

and his father did

but without intent
battling different

sorts of storms.

But a red moon

saved me.

lead me

from that torrent.

brought me home 

wet and tired,

scared and 
scarred, and

terminally

cautious.

Then,

I met you,

and still there
is routine.  

routine,

and waiting.

waiting for you

to show me

that hope 

is eternal

and love is

hardly routine 

-dp-
4-28-14