shoals moles foals

writing goals

are like sandy shoals

within the shallows

and depths of story

they offer moments

to come up to the surface

and survey the seas

lest one become

swept away by currents and tides

on which distraction rides

within which confusion hides

story goals

are like dermal moles

antifreckles and freckles

that dot the skinscape

that serve as plot points

along flats and curves

rising and falling verves

within scene and sequel

so that writer and reader

may navigate the story

writing goals

help foster feisty foals

those young draft horses

early in their courses

tap into the free running spirits

yet tame and train by bridle

sketchy scenes from the cradle

may your shoals, moles, and foals

deliver fruits your reader extolls

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like these ponds of frozen teardrops


strike as wands of chosen deardrops


woven with your band of why why zed


swollen by the news that you are dead

yet every flourish of your sticks

still burns within like a million wicks

ever dazzled by your deft tricks

beguiled by your brethren’s licks

haven’t seen youz

since syracuse signals

yet you always visit

via vinyl and digitals

forever shine you in the limelight

though your breath now hidden from sight

permanent echoes in these tidepools

swirling swiftly in our mindschools

we feel the power of your afterglow

from the first beat to your final show

feel the fury of nimble kicking feet

luscious lyrics with rhymes replete

bongos in both hemispheric zones

rock and roll these madrigal bones

with polyrhythmic sadness

yet perpetual inspirings

we bid a tearful farewell

to one of yyz’s three kings

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closet full of queer

on the day

the doctor’s new companion

came to stay

there was a bustle and a flurry

to rearrange spacetime in a hurry

until the stage was set so they

could calmly put on a play

for the extended fam

before the four-week stay

then with a cherry cola

the very-nearly-doctor

ushered in the flow

of some great new work

with a shine and a glow

their heart and secrets

tucked away

if only for a day

for what we see

is what we know

and we may choose

what we show

all were in good cheer

as they walked past

a closet full of queer

for sometimes we tuck away

our nature and our way

from eyes whose judgements sway

with their not-so-queer compassion

for our own brand of fashion

the good doctor

let forth a giggle

and with a finger wiggle

pushed closed the door

packed ceiling to floor

when the queer tried to pop out

and cover the visitors

shoe to snout

at the center of the place

despite the rearranging race

stood a sacred table

from which aromas of drafting

were so amply wafting

the geometry of the scenes

and how the plot careens

remained on full display

a few fingers of green vines

reached out from their confines

in the pantry full of pagan

a hundred plants so green

an ardent herbalist’s dream

tucked away unseen

oh how they craved to come

back into the light

and so it came to pass

when all was tucked away

in the closet full of queer

and the pantry full of pagan

yet with drafts on full display

that the visitors were okay

on the visitation day

but when coast was clear

out popped the queer

out paraded the pagan

and again it felt like home

and still we hope for the day

in our own ways we pray

that soon we may

keep all we hold dear

out in the clear

and every day shall be

a judgement-free day

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venus kissed

clouds have cleared darkening sky

brumal breeze blows through me

crispy crescent courting Venus

as the twilight glow adorns the clouds

as the brave night birds fly

algid atmosphere we breathe

chills these lungs who have sung

plucks at these colored shrouds

slender sickle cuts the sky

severs the divide

between you and i

shares a smile oh so wry

venus laughs with niece so spry

so distant in our panoply

yet so near to our eyes

as they dance across our sky

slender crescent of winter moon

luminescent orb to whom we croon

in conjunction for this brief tryst

the moon and venus nearly kissed

for this dance beholders swoon

yet tomorrow comes to soon

alas this beauty shall be missed

when crisp conjunction turns to mist

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moonmist gazes down

casting forth its frown

moonmist plays the clown

laughing at this town

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the need to release

your climb has been long

there is no need to stall

satisfaction is beyond

this illusory wall

the need to release

is a curious call

it wells up inside

until you finally fall

you must defend

this world that you wove

trampled by dust

from the thundering drove

the unwatched kettle

will go dry on the stove

the seafaring ship

must come out of the cove

all these works you craft

whether carved, cobbled, or sewn

please trust your carefully honed

treasures in your trove

rake your gardens

take your time to clean the nest

make your harvest

stake your claim with the best

when you are ready to share

set the table and add a spare

best wishes as you trade

these creations you have made

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twenty twenty

in twenty twenty

who do you want to be

do you have a clear vision

or is the future fuzzy

as you put twenty nineteen to bed

what desires stir in your heart

do your dreams form

like gumdrops in your head

is the year ahead

farther than you can see

with your temporal acuity

are your goals left unsaid

who do you want to be

in twenty twenty

do you have the ingredients

for your future life’s recipe

write your own recipe

gather what you need

start stirring the right roux

begin brewing your best brew

some samples may go awry

as you experiment and learn

continue making better batches

as you steer throughout the year

will future you be friends

with present day you

will you change course

and blaze new trails

will you climb the same mountain

you have been camped on

settle in a sweet valley

forage or farm a new future

in twenty twenty

who will you become

will your future become clear

who will you hold dear

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