Early morning air Holds court beneath Flowering pears. I exhale again Wandering aimlessly Between branches, Counting to 10 In Tagalog …
Kirk Gothier
Posted inArts + Scene
The Gift of Life
The Gift of Life Comes unwrapped, With no soft edges Coarse and grimy Stinking to High heaven. Hopes and Dreams Go up in smoke As we disrobe Breaking glass in Smoldering embers. Baby cries, Never leaving Hearts unbroken Desperate for Everything new.
Posted inArts + Scene
Mandi & Miss “P”
It begins with grace. Following pain, Carrying exhaustion, Shepherding worry, There are no answers. If they smile, For any reason, You are home. When life calls, On your iPhone, Buried somewhere, Away from your heart, Don’t answer…
Posted inArts + Scene
No Fish
Here I am again Silhouetted on wet sand. The ocean is furiously Boiling in white caps, As I cast another shrimp Dreaming of Red Tails. Flanked by sandstone Holding tight to fossils No longer dining Along the Lost Coast. Isolation is best served On endless horizons, With a dash of sea salt Teasing our palates.
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Faith
Faith Lumbers in sloth like When I least expect it, Back arching into Warm afternoon sun On the front porch where Our Dachshund died, Letting go… — Kirk Gothier
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Jigsaw Buddha Susie
She always picks Colorful ones. Typically landscapes Nurturing wildflowers, Exploding in blissfully Ascending colors. She also takes Twice as long As I And enjoys it A hundred fold.
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Websites
Chompers and I sit quietly, On my south facing porch Built the turn of last century. He must be British, Waiting so patiently, Constantly judging. His ancestors probably Came by Yankee Clipper Intending to dominate, Skulking in the cargo bay. He certainly is a presence Basking in the sun, Lying in […]
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Fairgrounds
Anger is best grown Under darkening skies In howling winds, Where victims and villains Litter festering landscapes. Breaking fertile soil, Planting wild seed, Watering incessantly Teases the ruminants And increases circulation.
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Doves Droning
When I was young, A two-note whistle Did the trick. Always turning heads, Making eye contact, or not … Does it ever stop?
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Moonrise
A Palace of Fine Arts Fills our windows. Smoldering curves Unbridle the ages. Only a fictional ruin Could hold back, As the moon rises And all decorum Abandons us.
Posted inArts + Scene
Forces of Nurture
Dysfunctional Errant winds Screaming, As the Golden Gate Arches defiantly: “Family Comes First!” Irascible Taunting tides Shifting, As the moon rises Unimaginably. We’ll see.