Ponderable polemics, poetic

WordPress site of poet Mark Lucker

time

  • Not flippantly

    Endings, beginnings reboots declining to resolve to do things better? more? less? just because. Finding myself in select company pragmatism not considered a virtue when calendars flip solemnity, tradition of fresh twelve invoked by most still, I demure idealism has its place the reality in transition December to January is more dog-earing key pages less… Read more

  • Playing on

    Faded are July’s warmth, summer’s cheers. Supplanted now by the encroaching hints of cooler days, forgotten expectations, procrastinated chores shelved, he can only now muse without dwelling on what won’t be. Could-have-beens and maybes aren’t statistically meaningful; they never really were, except to others in relation to their expectations and dreams for him. Regret is… Read more

  • Making note

    A cheap flash drive containing one document; PDF file of a note – my message of hopeful wonder, Robinson Crusoe-like whim I seal the technological romanticism tightly in a Mason Jar, throw it into the ocean at night as the tide predictably recedes Sitting on the beach I ponder as only a man with youthful… Read more

  • Pictures

    We were a long time ago years? decades? lifetimes? carbon dating? time is filled in a long forgotten coloring book half the pictures never finished bold, black-line outlines dated, quaint stumbled across by accident you flip through remembering all the scenes beach, park, ball, puppy love ? first few pages carefully colored giving way to… Read more

  • Adieu redux

    Final good-byes rarely are I have buried many a soul precious to me solemnly, sorrowfully humorously some with great relief many a complete surprise I have uttered public words of farewell, regret, remembrance tossed flowers, clods of earth, remorse and thank-yous atop bronze cocoons said farewell never meaning or believing it; til-we-meet-agains with more doubt… Read more

  • In step

    Time it is said tritely marches on its cadence precise as any honor guard’s mostly. At times time is less a rhythmic beat more the tuning of a cheap guitar MY my my dog dog has – HAS fleas. Fleas. fleeeeas. my.dog. has. fleas. Time occasionally stumbles, marches on, always finishes the parade. Read more

  • Faith

    Autumn leaves… …winter follows spring back… to summer cyclically erratic… eternally truncated life is… …fatal Read more

  • Clear Cut

    Memories are tree stumps What was, isn’t anymore what was alive, now is dead though it harbors new life; pain, bitterness, wistfulness, love, remembrance, regret thrive like so much lichen On occasion a new shoot sprouts from the stump, drawing its nourishment, its potential new life, from the decayed remains of what had once been… Read more

  • In step

    Time, so they say, always marches on its cadence, precise as any honor guard Mostly. Time is sometimes less a rhythm, more a tuning of a ukulele MY dog DOG has HAS fleas. fleas. My dog has fleas Time sometimes stumbles, but always finishes the parade Read more

  • Inevitablities

    Calendar, clock, seasons youth, maturation, death functional, pre-meditated change for the sake of change Desire, plans, politics she loves me not, she loves me? Change on the fly, on a whim, on a wing-and-a-prayer. On the lam. Change happens to you regardless ignoring change is not desiring the status quo, just denial dressed up for… Read more