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Friday, January 20, 2012

TROPOSPHERE



There's wispy clouds 
morphing slowly into
some other shape--
some other beingness
right before your eyes.
Not like your life, which
does it behind your back.

The birds are doing strictly bird
things, they don't give a crap
about you and me, unless its to splat
some on top your head

And off the top of my head
I'm rehearsing what I might say to you
tonight, if you ask about her, and why
it all turned to shit so quickly, and

I'll just say that she was the
prima donna type, and me,
just a casual guy who doesn't sweat
the small stuff--and I think it was
'cause I didn't bow down to 
her, or even curtsy, somewhere
along the way. Not really knowing,
but banking that you won't be
the same, but hey...

Sitting on the porch, I spot
the feral cat who lives underneath
the house, heading off on his mid-afternoon
hunting expedition. And when I think about
moving from here, I think about
where would he go in this 
stark coyote land?
There's a bowl of water that I set out.
Never food. 
He's lean, but he's a survivor,
and I'd never want to turn
a wild thing into something less.


And I glance up at those birds on a wire--
heads down in a heartbeat--
and off to who knows where,
'cept that it's someplace else, as

I languish here, dreaming of 
Adriatic whores, and some way to 
attain that kind of altitude. 
  









15 comments:

  1. Oh, this is just SO GOOD! You have such a good and honest heart. You keep it real. I love "I'd never want to turn a wild thing into something less". And that you're banking on tonight's woman not being a prima donna. Let us know, okay?

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  2. Brilliant words - no pretentions - just life as it is! Good luck with the girlie!

    Anna :o]

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    1. best to let the wild be wild...taming them breaks my heart...

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  3. I am in love with the images you have created here, especially this -
    'some other beingness
    right before your eyes.
    Not like your life, which
    does it behind your back.'
    You are sooooo good. So good!

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  4. Your writing is simply real and utterly your own. I enjoy it a lot!

    http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2012/01/22/night-rules/

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  5. __We can become a prisoner of ourselves; responsibility. Grand as always, Tim. _m

    locked in
    dreams search this wind
    the wings

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  6. Water ... and maybe some catnip :) Love, cat.

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  7. SHERRY : Ha ha...I'm never one to kiss and tell.

    HYPERCRYPTICAL: Thanks so much. Yes, poetry needs to be honest, if it isn't, then it's something other than poetry--like a TV commercial, or a political debate.

    BRIAN: I'm with ya.

    SELMA: Thanks, darlin' Those lines are maybe the truest part of it.

    TAYLOR: Happy you dropped by.

    NARBLES: "And they're REAL," she said. Okay, guys, what would be your snappy reply?

    MAGYAR: Love your haiku...you should use that one your blog.

    CAT: Thanks...I may give that catnip another try tonight! Kiss kiss.

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  8. "and I'd never want to turn
    a wild thing into something less." - I love those lines, Tim.

    I love the reflective mood here and can't help hoping that the prima donna type was just an aberation.

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  9. Every word of this hits home, Timo--first stanza sets the ruminative, slightly pissed but more puzzled tone, and the whole feral cat thing had my mind coming up with enough symbols and brainslaps to fuel several poems. You've got an altitude all your own, and there's bound to be something else flying around up there somewhere...lots of fantasy but never much future in a whore.

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  10. He's lean, but he's a survivor,
    and I'd never want to turn
    a wild thing into something less...seems like you're a survivor as well tim and you should stay wild...just saying....smiles

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  11. the directness and sometimes brutal attempt to unmask poeticisms has its payoff at the end, which resolves the tension quite nicely.

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  12. Timo,
    Wonderful verse! The situations aptly described. The wild among them left for their own thing!

    Hank

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  13. A very enjoyable read. Has a tone and rhythm all of its own.

    Pretty great right there.

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