A Little Pome by Titushome

[titushome]

March 24


a drop of water
is suspended from the underside of the railing
swelling
growing
bulging
until at last
it can no longer hold its own weight
and lets go




March 2001

[titushome]

Every morning outside the downtown department store
a charter bus waits to take unsuspecting Pinocchios
to the local casino




March 2007

[titushome]

Summer Sunrise in Tuscany


Velvet folds of chestnut and oak
are draped over giant stone ribs,
swirling down into pools of dry grass.

Knee-deep in the golden stretches,
solitary cypress stand
as silent silver sentinels.

On hills far away,
invading swaths of sunflowers
giddily scream happiness.

Jupiter and Mars are the last fading notes
of a starry symphony
as the sun prepares to make its entrance.

Also contributing are cicadas and crickets,
swallows, mockingbirds and owls:
screeching, chirping, laughing and hooting.

There's the gurgle of a hidden stream.
And, somewhere to the north,
the muffled barks of a dog.




July 2001

[SippinTea]

Beautiful!

[B]

*blinks* Those are awesome, titushome. You should join my poetry site.

B

[titushome]

to be an artist


use all lower-case letters

casually punctuate your writing with profanity

feature nudity in your work
the more, the better
preferably your own

celebrate suffering

be misunderstood
scorn those who attempt to understand

question, but do not probe
learn, but do not know

and – of course – wear black




October 2002

[titushome]

Just me and Jesus
walking on a starless night,
the half-moon bright
in the western sky.

I'm about to enter the house
when He pulls me aside,
and we sit down together
on the front porch.

There in the stillness
He prompts me to examine
my fear, my mistrust.
I don't want to let go

for the fear I might never
find anything better.
With a gentle smile
He points out my foolishness

and in that moment,
in the dark on the porch,
we share a little chuckle,
just me and Jesus.




April 2002

[SippinTea]

*two thumbs up*  That's got to be one of my favorites you've done!

[titushome]

Life is new today
   and life is old
Each breath draws cool damp air
I feel something drawing on me
Maybe it's destiny
Maybe it's something bigger




June 2002

[titushome]

Sitting


Sometimes,
when I sit very, very still,
I can feel the earth spinning,
beneath my chair.

I become wholly aware
of its rapid rotation:
a dizzying, pulsing,
numbing motion.

I feel myself a speck of dust,
held to the surface of this
incomprehensively massive sphere as it whizzes
through an  engulfing emptiness.

I rest in the moment,
in the momentum,
until the sensation passes;
then I return.




February 2002

[titushome]

Things I've Seen In Oregon


There is an old, blue
  rusted-out truck
  nestled in a dense
  grove of trees.

There is a stone, so
  massive to dwarf
  many trucks, resting
  in a river bed.

There are hills that
  fold so deep they might
  swallow many stones
  without memory.

There are stories of the
  hills, and the stones, and the
  trucks, that peek from the
  dark like twinkling stars –

all mysterious and innumerable.




June 1999

[titushome]

Layers of truth
Layers of space-time
Shimmering
Folding
In, and out
In, and out
Like curtains in a breeze
Or light on the surface of a lake

I observe the light
Penetrating, or reflecting
Shifting, piercing dimension
Calling me
To




March 2002

[titushome]

jesus
the little fairy who lives in my head
when I feel bad about something I've done
I just say the magic words
and he waves his little wand
sprinkles a little pixie dust
and everything is all better




July 2002

[titushome]

They tell us life is pain:
suffering and loss,
friends leaving you,
strings of disappointments.

We hear this again and again.
Every poet, every playwright,
every songwriter – it seems
they all bear this message,

but I will not believe it.





November 2002

[titushome]

A Winter Sonnet


You find a river winding through the snow.
You break the ice which forms along its shore,
And place your hand into its frigid flow.
You feel the power therein; it pulls you for
A moment, just as long as you can stand
Before you separate yourself again.
You linger at the edge, holding your hand.
A little of your life is gone, the pain
Numbed by the cold.  You wonder where it leads,
This moment surrounded by white, but you
Will see time yet before it shows what seeds
Are frozen in its banks, what plants yet to
Sprout sleep within those seeds, what blooms yet to
Open will draw their beauty here from you.




December 2002

[SippinTea]

  Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow! 

[MelodyB]

Snow? What is that?

[titushome]

Dream


Late some Sunday evening
And I am alone
Just me, and my thoughts, and my pen

But come Monday morning
I hope maybe none
Of the feelings I've now will be then

I find they consume me
I can't even sleep
For the blizzard of thought in my head

I want just to be free
Of this winter deep
I peer through the storm from my bed

No refuge in sight
No end for this one
Escape will not come to me

A dream in the night
A dream of the sun
What sort of dream might this be?




January 2002

[titushome]

(Hint: this poem is not about the weather.  )

[SippinTea]

Yeah, I got that.

Nice job, btw.

[titushome]

Yeah, I got that.

I once shared that poem with someone, and she (seriously) thought maybe I was suffering from seasonal affective disorder.

[SippinTea]

 

[titushome]

It is a most awe-some sunset:
from four stories up,
   I can see the dense clouds that bow
   as if through a fishbowl lens
   over the trees, beyond my sight
   both to my left, and to my right.
Sunken behind the clouds
there seethes an molten orb,
   and trying to push its way out
   – this is the most amazing part –
   it creates along the bank's upper edge
   a fierce vein of fiery gold.
This horizontal bolt of lightning
stretches to the earth's very ends
   glowing all along its arc
   like wood which, after hours in a fire
   that is now dead, holds along its edges
   the flames' last surge of heat.




October 2002

[titushome]

New Life


a-huh-a-huh-a-huh-a-huh
infant pants for air
her breath so soft yet vigorous
and trusted to our care

shhhh-shhhh-shhhh-shhhh
I hold her to my chest
her crying ceases, her body eases
she's sliding into rest

hmmm-mmmm-hmmm-mmmm
I hum a lullaby
composed just now, just for you
and breathed with loving sigh

ahhhh-ahhhh-ahhhh-ahhhh
infant draws in air
her breath so scarce it seems to me
it almost isn't there

oh God, dear God, sweet Lord, our God
One who gives life new
so much You've given us today
with our lives we thank You



13 October 2007

[MelodyB]

AWWWWWW

Spoken like a true loving Father.