Ponderable polemics, poetic

WordPress site of poet Mark Lucker

poetic

  • Like son, like father

    The daughter of close friends looks at my son like that they have known each other since first grade – a time when looking at each other like that would have been unthinkable; icky, gross…dis-GUS-ting! Now she looks at him like that When I first noticed her looking his obliviousness was a comfort but now Read more

  • A musing

    You seduced me. Drew me in played me for the fool and I bit took the bait tried to dart away only driving the hook in deeper now here I am at your pondering mercy; throw me in your creel fry me up toss me back let me swim away or watch me flopping for Read more

  • Guardian pal

    Like a shadow you know is there but disappears when you turn to confront it it’s there, but he’s not Following discreetly, benignly nourish part of the atmosphere minus the trench coat Sometimes light diffuses instead of illuminates My father’s memory, legacy, aura follows me no, I am not paranoid just aware of the oddly Read more

  • Outside the lines

    You opened me like a book thumbed through the pages of boldly outlined pictures mercurially finding one you chose your weapon from boxed arsenal; a sharp one, new to the point and unused you are the 64-box of Crayola’s using all the colors of you to flesh out the person that is me the picture Read more

  • Self. Centered.

    I love to walk alone in the rain and snow the colder the wetter the better I hear, understand nature, myself, my perosnal nature a whole lot better character building personal challenge; to prevail against the cold, the wet, implies some sort of adversarial relationship we do not partake the colder the wetter the better Read more

  • “Portrait de Madonna; mère de mes fils, vendredi soir” (Madonna portrait; mother of my sons, Friday night)

    After some ongoing, sad-eyed cajoling you agreed to a Friday night date night not of your choosing or comprehension posing for nervous artist and sketch pad you acquiesced to your best black pumps, resolute: no clenching of rose in teeth – concession gladly made by your love-struck middle-aged, middle-class, modicum talent Renoir with shaky charcoal Read more

  • Comfy

    Certain memories are a favorite pair of old slippers; ragged, tattered, not much to look at, but comfortable in a way nothing new could be once you plucked them from the garbage; second thoughts? hard to part, sometimes, with a never-complaining old friend then again, sometimes it’s best to just let the dog chew ‘em Read more

  • Pilgrim

    I am a spiritual man I believe stuff. I have read a lot, lived a bunch, experienced much, seen and did things Other people of different places, peoples, cultures old ways and fresh ideas. have always piqued my curiosity Ideas of life, concepts of God, the/a hereafter, meanings of life, purposes for existing. Questions, asked Read more

  • Auld Lang sign here, please

    Resolving, revolving promises made, kept, broken a yearly event spontaneously preordained commitments utterly devoid of promissory intent, overflowing self-mockery filling all potholes on the poorly paved road to hell Resolving, revolving nothing stays the same but the yearly promises to change though attitudes ingrained leave revelatory mandates estranged new year, old refrain Read more

  • most monochromatically not

    I’ve never seen the world in quaint, stark black and white even as a child, vivid shades of gray were crystal clear I have always seen life for what it really is; unnamed, unruly tints and hues both opaque and austere seeing life as purely black-and-white takes a special color blindness that I did not Read more