the replacement

my father
this man
who used to be
strong, fierce
able to fix anything
that needed fixing
able to build
from a pile of
brick or lumber
structures that
will stand for
decades still to come
this man
who took care of
everyone and anything
that needed taking care of
has been replaced
by someone who
can't tie his shoes
or walk across the room
who sits and nods off
in mid-sentence
and forgets that
you are there
this replacement
is a man i don't know
a man i would prefer
to have never met

driven 2 abstraction

fractal graphic                                                                                                © 2011 d.m. shepherd

take flight

let a little
imperfection
slip into your life
that long list
of disqualifications
of yours
is filtering out
all possibility of
adventure
bet on an
unsure thing
for once
abandon the rules
watch the wingless bird
take flight

rained out

the carnival has come to town
to sit out a solid week
of cold spring rain
the tilt-a-whirl is silent
the ferris wheel doesn't spin
and roustabouts
are huddled beneath an awning
leaning against their trailer
smoking cigarettes
spitting on the ground between
curses hurled at the weather
the colored lights flash overhead
but they aren't drawing in the crowds
time to pull up stakes and head out
to another strip mall parking lot
somewhere down south of this town

goin' to the hop

sometimes i just
want to 
dance out loud
cut loose
twirl dervishly
for no good reason
feel that beat
pounding down
from my heart
through my feet
cut the rug
do the shimmy
shimmy shake
twist and shout
let it all
hang out

numbers look like this

fractal graphic                                                                                                © 2011 d.m. shepherd

the other side

you try to stay there
suspended in that
soft and foggy
moment as
sleep escapes,
floating in an
iridescent bubble
where all is right
with your world.
you have love and
security and your life
has real meaning,
but the harder you try
to hold onto it, the
faster it slips away.
you're left wishing
that you hadn't
caught that glimpse
there between
slumber and waking,
felt that warm,
glowing peacefulness,
because you had never
been quite as aware
before that things
were so wrong,
here on the other side
of the dream.

greener

i was raised
by circus folk
love child of the
bearded lady
and a dashing
young man
who could fly
from a trapeze
but when i was ten
i ran away to join
a preacher's family
because that
quiet life seemed
so exciting to me

living past the middle

she could quote
from Dylan
either Thomas or Bob
and cook up a storm
when the mood was right
she knew the
phase of the moon
for any time of night
and would dance
to tunes only she
could hear
her eyes were green
and her skin was fair
but she couldn't
sing or tie a bow
and wasn't as young
as once she was 
which seemed to be all
that mattered

getting published

it's become clear to me now,
upon arrival
of the newest Review,
that if i'm ever
to be read
by the many,
appear in print
not of my own devise,
then i must simply
stop making sense.
the words will have
to swarm in hives
of the absurd
or swirl in circles
of nebulous meaning,
which seems to be
the style that is
desired
by those in possession
of far greater knowledge
than i myself
may be.