Poetry

September 28, 2017 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

lehmannsound/pexels photo

 

By

Rick Davis

 

 

 

comment

 

 

telling your story.

inclusiveness.

sustainability.

post-modernism.

 

perhaps,

but I am most alive

when creating

 

and helping another.

 

 

 

 

september morning

 

 

light sprinkles

your silvery hair

 

dissolving mild

cloud fractals.

 

avocado trees.

my mind is weed-filled

 

and wild.

the sun is gold

 

as a tooth.

groggy, i walk gently

 

and touch you.

you unseal my lips.

 

 

 

 

my idealism

 

 

my idealism is like

bare feet in summer grass

 

and blossoms

that drift like stars

 

resisting water-hazards

of apathy.

 

my idealism

is like city lights

 

that speckle wet streets

with vibrant paint.

 

stuck in right-wing mud

my nights grow

 

sleeplessly long,

but with loving-kindness

 

moonlight seeps

through dancing clouds.

 

 

 

 

neighborhood walk

 

 

the air is alive.

morning is a perfect

 

drop of gold honey.

oaks branch

 

like nerve endings.

i pray Kaddish

 

to mortality

and disappear

 

into a loving photo,

admiring the

 

lipstick-red hibiscus.

my dreams have wings.

 

 

 

 

 

rick-davis

Rick Davis

Rick (Richard) Davis is married and lives in the Logan Square neighborhood of Chicago with his wife. He graduated from Northeastern Illinois University, and has completed several graduate programs. He has published over 600 poems.

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