Avocados

Groggily leering at a bowl of avocados

each labeled individually

of their own accord—

speaking through 

my morning haze, 

“Why do they label each fruit

individually? What are you

supposed to do with the stickers?”

I think drearily

of apple stickers 

stuck upon counters,

walls, wherever,

and how my wife 

thought it stupid

that they would let 

their children defile

the habitation that now

temporarily became ours.

“How do you know it was

the kids?” I asked,

thinking of how I’d never

seen our children eat apples without first 

being sliced individually.

And Ron has never even 

taken time to remove the sticker,

just biting into the apple

devouring peel, paper and all.

But that’s apples 

and these are avocados

and you never eat the peel 

of an avocado

so it can just compost itself 

away as if being swallowed

whole by a man

who is indifferent to stickers

of red delicious gala

golden delicious cosmic crisp

jonathan counter top

chair floor avocado

worms grass beetles…

And my morning thoughts 

slip drearily into breakfast

and apple slices and

avocado toast and compost

and men and women and children

and furniture and

aren’t those avocados arranged beautifully?

March 2021

About This Poem

This is a poem that roams into the world of stream of consciousness based upon a bowl of avocados and what they made me think of. Life can seem so random and things from nowhere can make you think of the strangest memories or projections. This poem is an example of that. I'm sorry I had to use a fruit stand shot, but apparently I don't take photos of avocados, in spite of the thoughts they inspire in me.  

 

Poem: Garden Jealousies

Garden Jealousies

I sometimes wonder

If the grass in the yard grows jealous

Of little alyssum in all its blooming glory?

Or if alyssum thinks how grand

It would be to live ceramically

In a pot, or if it would somehow be

Better to be a rose, coming back 

Every year without even worrying

How much he’d bloomed?

Maybe the rose just wished

To be that pumpkin sat

On the porch all jack-o-lanterned out

‘Neath all the falling leaves,

Or little green bean

Picked faithfully and cooked

For a family of four

Or maybe more.

Maybe they all envy

Sunflower, shining in the sun

Beckoning the bees

Hanging on until the freeze.

Clematis clings jealously

To the Trellis—

Or is it just me that is jealous?

October 2022

About This Poem

It's gardening season, so this poem struck me when I was rereading some of the many poems I have written. Certainly one can be envious of the vegetable when stressed by things human? This poem is about that.

 

Poem: Beautiful Melancholy

Beautiful Melancholy

 Beautiful melancholy that I love,

Spreading darkness on the day,

Bringing rain from far away;

Take me to earth’s turbulent shores,

Take my mourning and make it yours.

 

Coolness of spring

Spread icy with rain

Bringing floods and causing pain,

Take me to earth’s turbulent shores,

Take my suffering and make it yours.

 

With the wonderment of agony, I see

Contorted bodies writhing painfully.

Sun so bright in the distance shine.

Take me from earth’s turbulent shores,

Take my agony and make it yours.

 

Light so bright

Nailed to a tree

Rent the veil

And transfigured me.

 

February 1983

About This Poem

This one is from the archives, for sure. I can't remember the inspiration, but it clearly fits into my poetry on faith and weather. It's mine, so I see things I could tweak. But I'll leave it as is for now. If the date is right, I wrote this during my Junior year in college. Some of the poem is probably just the angst of a young man, but some is probably the turmoil and deaths I had experienced and recalling it on a bleak day. I have a lot of really bad poetry from that time, so this one seems a little refreshing in comparison. :)