“Lines for an Appreciated Black Chicken” - an elegy written 10/29/2021
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“Lines for an Appreciated Black Chicken” - an elegy written 10/29/2021
If nothing else
I am a fire
raging and burning as I streak the sky
with my ire and my eyes
No rain nor storm
may take your warmth
only the wind can truly be my guide
as smoke pillars and billows over head, over mine.
My blaze dims to embers
but I linger
hidden in the hearts of the splintered
in the bleary eyes of a fever,
and should another breath come
of comeuppance, of fate
be still, don’t wake
I will rise from ashes and be your bringer
of disaster, raining sweltering misery from my fingers.
Blind, am I?
There is no justice, look around!
Filter through my grey and you will find
no pity for your indignation
only power
only thirst
the quenching of which can only come
if you let me burn.
~F
Crying on my baby's shoulder, because she's just like me— but I calm her down for a nap faster than the tears dry out of my eyes.
Untitled quatrain, 8/29/2025
"On a Break from My Face" - a poem written 12/15/2022
I. My love is my pride. My love is my frailty. My pride is my strength. My strength, vulnerability. II. I don't wish to cause the suffering of any living thing, but life is a series of suffering, and boy have I been living.
"Shames" - a poem written 7/29/2024
Most of what I do for work is get ready for work. And you have done more for me than microscopy— I wish. Well, you've been there. An eighth grade boy in health class said of the lucky sperm in the womb, "I can't believe I did that." No, you didn't. It was the cell. We've all been going downhill since we became zygotes. Two simple things joined and divided. Less really is more. More is less. I spend all day sometimes getting ready to go to bed. It's a Goliath—a good night's sleep. You and I can't make a baby. A baby makes itself.
"A baby makes itself" - a free verse poem written 6/04/2024
"Screaming Too" - a free verse poem written 12/01/2023
"The Old Ways" - a sijo written 7/22/2024