her, in yellow

October 31, 2012 § 2 Comments

a barrel
slid on a
with a click
the rain
terra cotta
brief waves
of her – flashes
of canary,
black web,
ivory accents

vertical evacuation

October 28, 2012 § 4 Comments

scanning the horizon
gifted to me
watching for sunrise
waiting with the rest

all of us
doing what’s expected
of ourselves

all the while listening
for that little chime
announcing the start
of our
vertical evacuation


October 27, 2012 § 1 Comment

here on this stump
with a
full of
anthropomorphized pebbles
each one with
something to
say regarding
my condition
small, old voices
I reluctantly
agree with


October 26, 2012 § Leave a comment

when I first learned that
Birdsong was sung for Janis
soft wings fanned the air


October 25, 2012 § Leave a comment

if you don’t look you’ll
never have to look away
but, wonder you will

how to begin a goodbye

October 25, 2012 § Leave a comment

it may be best
to begin a goodbye
with a joke –
make it a dirty one,
hit the punch line
with one foot
hovering in the air and
an arm extended
running back style

don’t wait around
for the
laughter to end

Orbs in the UK

October 25, 2012 § 1 Comment

A little self promotion geared toward my followers in the U.K., my book Orbs is available on Amazon.com.uk. My most recent book, Water from a toad, will be available on the site soon. Just search Orbs Whitehead and you should find it easy enough. Thank you in advance for anyone who purchases it. Peace.

November oak

October 24, 2012 § 2 Comments

November oak

standing, a stalwart of
his tribe
gatekeeper to the field
of bowed grasses and headless
flowers, and I
shuffling through his shed
raiments on my way
along a too familiar footpath
so perfectly reflected
his silhouette
as I reached out and spread
my fingers
to feel Winters
first chill

2012 Fred Whitehead

the disorder

October 24, 2012 § Leave a comment

the disorder

longing peach summer at the first
grazing of Octobers fingers
between your shoulders,
the garden looking
all of the aftermath
of a child’s party

the low introduces itself again
as if not recognizable
in its drab attire
and droop lidded eyes

one learns to let it in
it’s coming in anyway
to take up space on your couch
and breath on the back of
your neck
as you try to find
in pages
on your lap

2012 Fred Whitehead


October 23, 2012 § Leave a comment

they crawl toward
the mirage of knowledge
wishing to be
emancipated from
the cups of
emaciated imagination
offered up by soft hands-
gumming up tongues and
going down like sand

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