Waking Up

I’ve been waking up early lately.  So I can write, so I can listen, so there is quiet.  I’ve been drafting and revising poetry today.  A little old, a little new.  I’ll post a little later.  For now, though, I wanted to share an old friend.  His name is Chris Jacob and his photographs and songs were once my muse.  Go to the bio section of his website and you can link to his myspace and sink into aural serendipity.  Good stuff, good stuff.

So, as I said, I’ve spent the morning revising old work and writing new stuff.  I ran across a little thing from a life ago and was jiggling the words around a little, and I’ve been cranking out a few newer ones.  Just now the house filled with a strange, sweet scent.  The upstairs neighbor is baking.  So, I’ll post an older one, I guess. 

In search of

I woke when the fat Sunday paper
slapped against the door jamb.
I stared at it thru pressed
glass and asked if it knew

of you.  Pull back the wrapper
just like I pushed up your sleeves
to check your veins once.

You weren’t front page news
no need to look there –
and the police beat is clear.
Another day, no word.

3 Comments

Filed under literature, lust and love, Musings, poetry, writing

3 responses to “Waking Up

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  2. Profound. I know this feeling.

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