January 7, 2012 § 1 Comment

is there nothing
so immediate
and impermanent
as is death

take this piece of soul
send it on the wind
let it be the seed for another


otra vez

January 6, 2012 § Leave a comment

no hay nada
tan inmediato
y impermanente
como es la muerte

tomar este pedazo de alma
enviarlo en el viento
que sea la semilla de otro


January 4, 2012 § 3 Comments

the city designated
weekend for purging
(circled in red since
february) finally arrived

a warm afternoon
found me dragging
overstuffed boxes
loosely tied bundles
armload after armload
to curbside

when done
another beer cap twisted
I sit on the tailgate of my
truck and wait for
the scrappies to show up

their bald-tired wrecks
low and angry
some prowling by slow
a weathered face squinting
out of the passenger side window
others would side up
to the curb, practically
ejecting someone to
snatch a bit of metal and
move off quickly to a pile
further up the street

like a dingo ripping off a
chunk of meat and
running ahead of
the pack

some would politely ask if they
could have my orphanned bits
of life – to which I would
answer – sure I’m done
with ’em – but only
if their attire suited
their intentions
tattered flannel shirts
oily jeans leather workgloves
an honest mans wardrobe

I would deny such gifts
to the clean ones
sauntering out of new trucks
their designer shades
crisp shirts neat hair
it’s them
I don’t trust
there is something
disingenuous in their manner

I won’t have the
likes of them
rifling through my
perfectly proportioned
pile of discarded memorabilia

them I send away

with a smattering of
profanities and a thumb
hooked in the
direction of elsewhere

so special

January 3, 2012 § Leave a comment

so, in our audacity,
we claim the crown
of reflection
– claim dominion

all the time
trying to gather sense
of lights in the sky

with a shudder
the curtains are parted
and the wonder above
is scanned
age old speculation
against hope internal

if one of those
pinholes breaks loose
and happens by
in slow

it can easily be imagined
that all
parties involved
will be
standing at their
mouths agape

in unwilling acknowledgement
that the word special
doesn’t really
apply anymore

cup runneth, etc

January 2, 2012 § 3 Comments

twice now
two times in four days
I got the cup down
set it on the cutting board
and poured coffee onto it

I say onto it
because it was, as were
my thoughts, upside down

I’ve been finding
myself making
repeated trips
up and down stairs
for something left
up when I needed it down
down when I wanted it up

I rarely know what day it is
until I’ve been in it for a while
I don’t even care anymore

what is a day anyway?
little things slip out
of the grey
making way
for other little things
to enter like
unexpected guests

all pouring into me
until the day
I turn over
and it all spills off my back

spider monkey

January 2, 2012 § 2 Comments

the stones removed
for your creation

a celestial collective waited
to witness your rise from Nazca
waited for prophecy to thaw

convey yourself
out of
the common mass
of your aboriginal brethren
beside you on the plain

the taratula always
anticipating prey
that never shows itself
the thunderbird who
never takes rise
on Andean winds

go, as you’ve always wished
smell the Ceylon blooms
of Kira Khatun
shun the provincial shine

think strange

find and lose not the sight of
the precept golden
as your frame travels
among the unknowing

the years found you
your tail forever curled
your eyes only seeing sky
you longed for the
ill fitting flesh
of creatures nomadic

now, as you wander
let the empty space
within your form be filled
with the chants of Tibet
the waters of the nile
the sun of the east

recite your life
to all things sentient
recite your life
to all things not
recite as red dust falls
from your twelve didgets

rise to follow the
song of the spotted eagle
echo it with your
empty lungs

leave the familial
lament of the stationary


Where Am I?

You are currently viewing the archives for January, 2012 at Fred Whitehead's Blog.