ask the leaves
Oct. 1st, 2015 10:20 amit is fall and i,
like the leaves,
am falling,
towards what end
i do not know.
perhaps simply
to the earth
as they, in their seasons
do, as we,
in our season,
finally must.
and then,
after that, what?
the slow burning,
only, as our dust
goes back to
earth?
perhaps someone
should ask
the leaves
when they're still
bright and green
and sentient
in the sun.
ask them
if they believe that
there's a place
where they will
once again
rise up
into this light...
LPK
LiveJournal
10.1.2015 (p)
like the leaves,
am falling,
towards what end
i do not know.
perhaps simply
to the earth
as they, in their seasons
do, as we,
in our season,
finally must.
and then,
after that, what?
the slow burning,
only, as our dust
goes back to
earth?
perhaps someone
should ask
the leaves
when they're still
bright and green
and sentient
in the sun.
ask them
if they believe that
there's a place
where they will
once again
rise up
into this light...
LPK
LiveJournal
10.1.2015 (p)
it's raining
and the
leaves are falling
in the
woods, i said.
the fall
is really
your time,
he said.
i have the
words,
it all seems
clear,
and endings
fill the
air, i said...
L.P. Knickerbocker
10.16.2000
for rich johnson,
artist and friend
[This is an older piece. From before the time, even, when amandagayle helped me to get my LJ account. But every fall I think about this poem. And the conversation I had with my friend Richard Johnson. So many seasons, so many years ago...]
[This is an older piece. From before the time, even, when amandagayle helped me to get my LJ account. But every fall I think about this poem. And the conversation I had with my friend Richard Johnson. So many seasons, so many years ago...]
Sometimes It Doesn't Matter
May. 15th, 2013 09:41 amThe man in the truck said,
"Where are you going?"
The hitchhiker,
on the opposite side of the road,
said, "I don't know."
Then the man said,
"When you don't know
where you're going
it doesn't matter
which road you take."
And so the hitchhiker
got in the truck...
LPK
LiveJournal
5.15.2013 (a)(p)
[Based on a scene from the movie Made in Heaven. And at the risk of appearing delusional I have to say that, with the exception of this one scene, the poem is better.]
[Based on a scene from the movie Made in Heaven. And at the risk of appearing delusional I have to say that, with the exception of this one scene, the poem is better.]
There Is a Poem
Jan. 25th, 2013 11:38 amThere is a poem
by Raul Gutierrez called
"Lies I've Told My
3 Year Old Recently."
I found it
in a LiveJournal called
breathe-poetry
and it says this:
Trees talk to each other at night.
All fish are named either Lorna or Jack.
Before your eyeballs fall out from watching too much TV, they get very loose.
Tiny bears live in drain pipes.
If you are very very quiet you can hear the clouds rub against the sky.
The moon and the sun had a fight a long time ago.
Everyone knows at least one secret language.
When nobody is looking, I can fly.
We are all held together by invisible threads.
Books get lonely too.
Sadness can be eaten.
I will always be there.
I have a grandson
who is nine years old and
is infinitely precious
to me and
I'd like to say that
he would see the lie
in all of them
except the last.
But sadly
that's not true
because that innocence
has been lost too...
LPK
LiveJournal
1.25.2013 (a)(p)
by Raul Gutierrez called
"Lies I've Told My
3 Year Old Recently."
I found it
in a LiveJournal called
breathe-poetry
and it says this:
Trees talk to each other at night.
All fish are named either Lorna or Jack.
Before your eyeballs fall out from watching too much TV, they get very loose.
Tiny bears live in drain pipes.
If you are very very quiet you can hear the clouds rub against the sky.
The moon and the sun had a fight a long time ago.
Everyone knows at least one secret language.
When nobody is looking, I can fly.
We are all held together by invisible threads.
Books get lonely too.
Sadness can be eaten.
I will always be there.
I have a grandson
who is nine years old and
is infinitely precious
to me and
I'd like to say that
he would see the lie
in all of them
except the last.
But sadly
that's not true
because that innocence
has been lost too...
LPK
LiveJournal
1.25.2013 (a)(p)
one true thing
Dec. 26th, 2011 01:46 amtonight, i needed
to discover
one true thing
about you;
i would have settled
for anything:
a phone call answered
as expected,
a random face, a name,
anything you
might have said
was yours
or of your life;
instead, the dust
of broken promises,
endless lies,
petty deceits
settles at your feet:
the now-indelible
residue
of every road
you've ever walked
or will yet travel
in your life...
LPK
LiveJournal
12.25.11 (a)(p)
this dead ear
Nov. 1st, 2011 05:26 amall for the sake
of this young child,
i pray to an old god who,
even in my own childhood,
was said by some
to be dead;
how, i wonder,
has it come to this:
that all the wisdom,
all the hope,
all the promise,
poured from my own life
into this innocent vessel,
now stands
to be lost
because all
that i have left
is to pray
into this dead ear.
LPK
LiveJournal
11.1.11 (a) (p)
of this young child,
i pray to an old god who,
even in my own childhood,
was said by some
to be dead;
how, i wonder,
has it come to this:
that all the wisdom,
all the hope,
all the promise,
poured from my own life
into this innocent vessel,
now stands
to be lost
because all
that i have left
is to pray
into this dead ear.
LPK
LiveJournal
11.1.11 (a) (p)