092614
September 26, 2014 § Leave a comment
since contact, the
arc has gotten so much bigger
more will come out,
though
dead on
for some time
it is the alright
to be a sun
for this world
until a hint, unglued,
runs you to
other beings
moans will reverberate
in skulls –
bridging a code
(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead
092314
September 24, 2014 § Leave a comment
there were times
when punching
holes in the shroud
made the night whole
only then could
we
have stars
to guide our
paper schooner
through our
inner slide show
it
would not
be any different,
of course, even
if I were to icon you
it was
the best way,
it seemed,
for
bodies to blare unity
(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead
092214
September 22, 2014 § Leave a comment
how can we
end a up one bit
cornbread and dandies?
I work you, not fish
fields
a dune
a good bidding
taking cane very well
our easy plowman –
the same eye
concurrent with belief
(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead
092114
September 21, 2014 § Leave a comment
by way of rendering in the mind
a lament concerning lifting
right after
a brothers just dirge
– a cry viable
I don’t have views of
having been
died of heart
ending up
to get to
blinding to
bodies
seeking detachment
(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead
091814
September 18, 2014 § Leave a comment
there is endless
talk of virus
and I
am left
to ponder
nature of transmission
attempting
to Huck Finn
my way
out of the
St. Petersburg
of my mind
on a raft cobbled together
from ideas of those
far more insightful
than I
(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead
091614
September 16, 2014 § Leave a comment
striving for pure
unadulterated past
you swim faster
toward that aural coast,
unimaginably ancient,
rising from where
waters of disregard
and redemption merge
each hard drawn breath
counts a stroke
each stroke,
an act remembered
defined by exhaustion
unable to sink
the only option,
always,
is to
reach forward
and pull
(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead
91214
September 13, 2014 § Leave a comment
shackled to parameters
waiting for perimeters to ignite
ignoring illuminations
by monks
unbidden
and bettering inward as forewarned bitter conversion comes as would a storm
this is the challenge
the change
the charge this is the struggle
by which struggles are measured
the night too long
to live
through
as gone gives in to staying on laying down
on the wrong side
of rites
right
before dawn drowns the praying
in light
of cold realization culminating in frozen frenzy
flightless and still
flightless for the ever more
(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead
Sullivan County redux
September 6, 2014 § Leave a comment
should I worry
about how
road kill reminds
me of a long walk
to Neversink,
around the time
September threatened
us with
Thanksgiving and
all the ice
that was sure
to follow
elaborately constructed darlings
with stories of
the Island
or Harlem
willing to grant my
hand worthy
for an afternoon
you would think I
would find the
accents of
their laughter intriguing
enough so
at least
to stop
counting all of the
groundhogs
raccoons and
squirrels that
didn’t make it across
route 55, much less
all the way to the reservoir
and back before nightfall
like we were
attempting,
on a whim, because
they had never been
away from the city before
and they were as
foreign to me
as the Catskills
were to them
seeing a fox by the side
of the road today,
it’s tail curled
around its head as if
it was catching a few
winks in the gravel,
brought
that trek
back to me
not the voices or
faces or style
of my companions
mind you,
but the number of
fallen wild brethren
which, by the way,
was fourteen,
(this I remember)
upon seeing fox
in this particular condition
I said aloud
“well, that’s one”, and
drove on
I have
a ways
to drive
yet
(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead
90414
September 5, 2014 § Leave a comment
is there
even
the faintest
of regrets –
living
on the edge
of a strip mine
while
covered
in gold
(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead