Ponderable polemics, poetic

WordPress site of poet Mark Lucker

Love and Romance

  • Advancement

    I eschew sex. Firmly entrenched in middle age I have found the act wanting, boring the physicality dull, unimaginative old hat Sex has lost its interest in me shunning sex, I have discovered making love It is the side effect of experience the residue of having love, lost, found I am the artist who has Read more

  • Targeted

    I was once a New Year’s resolution a young woman I worked with at a large hotel greeted me passionately, spontaneously, in the grand lobby flinging her arms unannounced around my neck, first kiss of a new year January first. Our first kiss, and last wouldn’t have been either had that new year come the Read more

  • Carnivale

    It was the day the circus came to town we went and you made a small joke about the contorting monkeys wishing I was as limber, simianly creative. My chuckling retort comparing you – favorably, I thought – to the barking seal was a ball dropped. I could see your point about dogs jumping through Read more

  • Jaywalker

    She crosses my mind from time to time in a downtown crosswalk, distracted, late-for-a-lunch-date manner sometimes she is more casual, unaware, letting the dog out, grabbing the Sunday paper off the sidewalk before brunch She crosses my mind from time to time weaving through downtown like a drunken sailor in 3 inch pumps with a Read more

  • Passion

    He noticed her intensity sitting there, reading Trying to capture some of her bookish vehemence he prodded hopefully “Ahh. The plot thickens.” “Like old Hollandaise” she replied, without looking up He turned on the television, swearing off books Read more

  • Adrift

    Over a beer, I blithely told a friend bemoaning a lost love there were plenty of “other fish in the sea” unmoved, he was, as I noted “there are also tires, discarded refrigerators and sunken oil tankers” Thus inspired he raised his glass, made a toast; “Let’s hear it” said he “for the girls of Read more

  • Morning coffee

    Saturday. Early, but not too. I bring her a cup of coffee the rich stuff, good stuff our special Saturday blend. She stirs gently, like the brew I set the mug on her nightstand Pheromones blend with aromatic Arabica Saturday morning alchemy dissolves into Saturday afternoon Read more

  • Sweetness

    Memories of you scamper through my psyche like ants over the sugar cubes in grandma’s summer sugar bowl Read more

  • Dawning for a poet

    Scratchy, scraping, raw pencil on paper causes her to stir she turns sleepily my way half smiles, half sneers rolls back the other way she thinks I am writing a paean to some ancient love or other stray reminisce, hopes its not some sappy ode to her Sometimes it is. Other times I am writing Read more

  • Calling my wife at work

    Can I take you to lunch? Can I take you upstairs? I have only an hour to go where I desire to be taken; taking time for longings, for lunch taking time is tempting as you tempt me, letting me be taken to lunch or taken elsewhere always hungry because I am always taken with Read more