I have grown accustomed to
astonishment of others
silently, smugly I take their
surprise as less personal affront
more opportunity to exploit
their naiveté-tinged ignorance
(when not feeling charitable)
making any successes sweeter
though I oftentimes regret
my haughty self-restraint in
not saying ‘I told you so’
actions chat louder than words
though aren’t always heard
while seeing is believing
even when nobody is watching
– Mark Lucker
The setting sun
chases us eastward
orange-scorched ripples
of cumulus white race
with us neck-and-neck
ablaze, dying wisps of cotton
embers envelop us while
about to be snuffed out by
rapidly encroaching nightfall
fleeting light from behind
speeds toward
a head-on collision
with onrushing darkness
a mesmerizing train wreck
at thirty-thousand feet
I cannot turn away from
as the now fading sun collides
with momentum-building night
the coloring-book lines
are only momentarily maintained
before we fade to black
day meets night
night meets day
never have I witnessed
their passionate, daily
coupling as tonight
old song lyrics
come sharply to mind;
‘where the blue of the night
meets the gold of the day,
someone waits for me…’
though I was there by chance
on time and unplanned finding
no one unexpectedly waiting
I could have still lingered
not minding at all the lack of
unexpected company as more
than fair trade-off for being able to
savor with gleeful regret and joy
that the moment was only that.
– Mark Lucker
###
flying through clouds
a kaleidoscope of white
I don’t have to squint
###
thirty-thousand feet;
Samsonite table Kansas
sans the two-of-clubs
###
creative crackling
cloud neurons, plane synapses
CAT scan of my brain
– Mark Lucker
Ponderable polemics, poetic 