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Christmas conversation

Fearing language, tongues
Curbed, feelings thwarted,
Shells built, lacquered, 
Again, again, again…
Forever adding layers
Between heart, meaning,
Cell-fired knowledge; those
Truthful connections brought
By well-placed, -chosen 
Words--to favor
Tinsel-shiny, symmetrical 
Language trees grown in
Deception forests.

"I love your sweater"--
Its workmanship,
Its fuzziness, how its 
Fabric truthfulness 
Lets me see you; how
Its presence demands I
Explain why it's such an
Effrontery to my eyes.

"Ah, rum balls again! I
Look forward to these,
Every year!"  Yes:
Looking forward similarly
To property taxes, to
Week-long rainstorms,
To dogs humping my leg.
Intellectually accepting 
Privileges offered me
By these taxes. Loving
Dense greenery which thirsts
For spring rainstorms. My
Sardonic smile acknowledging
This dog's instinctual need.

"Didn't your mother ever
Tell you 'If you can't say
Anything nice, don't say
Anything at all'?"

"No.
I would like to think
My mother had more 
Character than that."
(I know my father had.)

Poetry walks narrow
Precipices. One misstep
Spells doom. Meaninglessness
Assails poems, surrounding
Them, attempting to breach
Their constructs. Poets
Cannot choose their weaponry.
What comes to hand,
Comes to hand.

Yes and No

Yes
is the No Where
that leads to
Some Where or
Some When, but
always to an
Any-When, an
Any-Where.
Yes
whips Some Where
and Back When
into Here-Now:
No When,
No There.
No
is the Non-Where
that cannot lead,
cannot follow,
cannot do anything
but hang curtains of
illusion between us.
No
jerked out of Satan's mouth mid-plummet,
greeted Moses after Sinai,
cloaked Judas's lips
during his god-kiss,
takes little bites out of 
our daily redemption.
Yes
is the Here that 
pinpoints Now,
focuses our hearts like
candles mid-night,
like a scream on a 
quiet summer's night.
Yes
escaped Jesus's mouth
accepting pounded nails,
danced in Stephen's blood,
dissolved barriers 'tween
mortal enemies,
plasters o'er cracks
in our good intentions.
No
was good enough in
Its Day, made us look
more intelligent, more
urbane: critics, noses tipped.
But Now,
Yes
must be given Its Due,
must claim center stage
in our heart's theatre, in
our dreams of Perfection.
Then 
we'll move on to
Yes-No
and
No-Yes,
live in Then-Now
making plans for
Now-When.

Single note poems

Single-note poems,

Listen up!

Solos, well & good,

Don’t cut it.

Today, complexities

Rule!

Cacophonous sometimes,

Symphonious

Others, but…

“Collaborative teams” —

That’s our new cachet!

Okay, mister poet.

Slowly. Go slowly.

Add one-part

Harmony. Let’s see

How it goes. (Still…

Isn’t this is a

Single-note poem?)