Hindsight is 20/20, but Absence Makes My Vision Stronger

Clearing the Air

I missed you when you went away,

But if you should come back today,

I will no longer—for my sight’s

Been fixed—I’ve got you dead to rights.Digital illo: Dead to Rights

Squirrelly Behavior

photoSquirrelly, Now and Formerly

Pipkin was a rascal lad who disobeyed his mom and dad

Pestered his teachers, pinched the girls

Among the young chipmunks and squirrels

And threw hard acorns from the trees at passing mice and birds and bees

He chewed on rafters, jambs and screens

Teased babies, oldsters, in-betweens

Stole in through windows left ajar—

Alas! Could not outrun a car.photo

All the Same …

photoNone Escape It

Here in the crematorium, a lily

escapes the flaming heat in Esgard’s grasp;

Esgard, though, won’t escape the same way, will he?

He’s much too far beyond his final gasp.

No need to mourn excessively, though, fellows,

for Edgard doesn’t need your tears and dread;

while he’s now in a form that quickly mellows,

the lily, too, will soon enough be dead.photo

Old Age and Other Natural Predators

photoI Realize You were Only Doing

What Comes Naturally,

But I have to Scold You, My Pet

I know you only meant to make

A dandy first impression

By killing this whole crowd, but Jake,

Behold my grave expression–

For it is impolite, I think,

And maybe even naughty,

Recruiting everyone in sight

To play the role of Body–

Your nature calls you to the task,

I knew from your first GRRR!

But some restraint gets less complaint

Than utter massacre.

I thank you that you rout the moles

And rodents by your labors,

Dear Jakey Boy, but next time leave

Your teeth out of the neighbors.

photo

On the upside, the house next door is available now . . .

Dizzily Dark Imaginings

photo + texttext + photo

photo + text

Tiny Terror

digital artwork from a photoHummingbird Unmasked

My beak’s a single fang I sink in artery or vein

And none suspect me of this drink but clinically insane

And paranoid-type fantasists whom no one else believes

When they accuse the pretty bird that flits in flowers and leaves.

Though tiny as a bumblebee, I may grow round and bloated;

The nectar of your heart is how I keep my Ruby-Throated

Good looks and family heritage (and, not the least, my name),

My shapely belly and my speed of flying fast as flame.

It’s not that I’m nefarious, invidious or rude,

But merely that I have a taste for human blood as food,

And do not fear: I’d never kill you outright when I dine—

Far rather sip and savor you as vintage claret wine.digital artwork from a photo

 

Happily Haunted Houses

graphite drawing

Her Monument

In a strange little homestead lit by electric light

is a passing builder’s fancy floating in the neon night;

the spirit of the artisan flits by, nocturnal blue,

and shoots the moon by swooping through the ashes in the flue;

she drifts in starry glimmerings beyond the crooked room

where comet dust is settling on the folly of her tomb. O,

let lie the tools of wisdom where your little homestead rises,

and cry Hurrah! for moonlit nights

and foolish enterprises.

Someone to Watch *All* Over Me

[In a Really Creepy & Inappropriate Way]

Thought I was your stalker, violent,

Sneaking on you, ninja-silent,

Pervert peering in your casement,

Clear from attic to the basement,

With my satellite trained on you

All the way from where you’ve gone to

From my distant lair? I’ve got you

Hid from trouble while I watch you–

Baby, you’re not scared now, are you?

I’m just trying to watch out for you;

If I didn’t, who could keep you

Safe and sane, awake, asleep–Who?

I’m your hero, watching closely

So you won’t become morosely

Sad and spooked at all; to

Keep you safe and sound; I call you

In the morning and way later

Just to keep away the hater

That might try to nab your collar,

Take your keys, your watch, your dollar,

Keep you sleepless, full of sorrow–

Sleep tight, Babe! See you tomorrow.

P&I + digital

What, *me* scary???

Penny for My Thoughts

digital painting of a photoNot to Worry, There’s More in the Bank

Do not despair that I have set low price

Upon my intellect and all its blooms,

Its wild embellishments, creative rooms

Filled full with every possible device

Invention and intelligence can build–

My brilliance shedding dazzling insights far

As light can travel from the largest star–

My memory mansion’s rooms are this far filled,

And yet I charge a pittance, just a cent,

For all the riches I have made to date,

And fling them with abandon, though so great,

Along the curb beneath your pediment.

Why would I cast my wealth thus at your feet?

Like pennies, I am also obsolete.