Sometimes I have no room for blog-thought.
Sometimes I just let the words spill…
In this little beach town
on any given morning
and especially in the morning
the world is good
The sun shines
and enough people are unemployed or retired
to enjoy the day
Even the bums
on their benches
in their madness
In the morning
before the bars and restaurants open
(their owners sweeping sand off the steps)
the cafes sell their coffee and
croissants and wi-fi
and the rare business man walks by
in a suit
from the rest of us
in jeans and shorts and wetsuits
driving bicycles and rollerblades and surf boards
The old and young
walking their dogs and
It’s a different sound
in the morning
No drunken brawls over
Just the parrots
and the Coast Guard helicopter
in the morning
women dancing in the
with babies in their arms.
I have to remind myself
that I want to write
that I do it because it’s what I want
that it’s not a means to an end
that it’s not the
In those times I’ll pick up a pen
and a notebook
what might be mistaken for
Because I know it won’t be sold or,
it’s just for me.
I just want to write
I’m never so happy as when I’m
petting a dog
The child in me erupts
I roll, laughing,
an idiot on the
wrestling the dog that only has eyes for me
“I’ve never seen him play like that”
“He usually doesn’t like men”
“Okay, I think it’s time we say goodbye”
The dog usually tires before I do
I’m never so happy as when I’m watching
like Olympic divers
into the waves
their silly shapes and dangling legs
I’m never so happy as when children
catch my eye
The laughter is the best
And when parents say
“She’s usually so shy”
“He’s really taken with you”
before I do
I’m never so happy as when I watch
my own children
In quiet warm dreams
Eyes moving under the lids
The dog curled between them
I’ll have a day
and know happiness
Oh Stephen. This was lovely. I've had such a horrible week–the ramifications of my mom's dementia hit a critical mass this week–I'm so exhausted and stressed. This poem brought tears to my eyes. It's good to remember the happiness. The little moments are what count.
I, too, have to remember that I want to write…Haven't written much lately. I'm not the better for it, for sure…
Have a wonderful weekend.
If this is the way you spill words, it's no wonder you carry them the way you do.
That was beautiful, Stephen.
Very nice. Quite the picture of contentment.
I'm gonna go to the beach today. ; )
Stephano: I'm walking into a meeting in NY with your California sunshine filling my mind. Thanks, wee brother. smiles should not be squandered.
II made me cry., too. Wish I could be free form about poetry – mine always turn into epic satires.
Lisa, I'm sorry to hear about your mother. That's rough. I know.
Lisa – I'm so sorry about your mother. I have nightmares about what you're going through. I hope you can take a break from the troubles and get some time for yourself.
For just a moment, I was transported to the beach in Santa Monica and smiled. You can be a magician with words. And other beings apparently. Don't stop.
Clear eyes, clear words. No signal loss between perception and pen.
Thank you. Such a wonderful start to my day, what your words evoke is beautiful.
Very nicely done, Stephen. Bravo.
Lisa, my prayers are with you and your mom..
Well. Got me 100 percent.
You're pretty much a phenomenal talent, Stephen. Good to know you.
Wonderful words, Stephen. Lisa, so sorry to hear about your mother. God bless you both.
I see a kid skipping, it's summer, no clouds in the sky. Sweet.
Need to do more of this.
Heart out to Lisa…
Word spill anytime, Stephen.
Thank you for the kind thoughts about my mom.
Well done, Stephen. Always a pleasure to read your work.
Very wonderful and embodied writing. I am right there with you.
May this mood move your forward and through life's next hurdle.
Oh and one more thing, there's definitely a poet in you! Keep going with this genre!
Awwww… So touching. You captured the beauty of life's most simple moments. You can never go wrong over-loving!