2015 POWER  4A. INDULGENCES THE POET'S CORNER POWER Issue 2015 - Credit Heide JPGPhotography By Heide Van Doren Betz, San Francisco – California




In Time




No matter where I’ve gone or will go,

no matter what I’ve done or will do, I am in time.


I am part of the whispering blend that creates a memory.

I can resurface, I have.


Just a small nod and a rested pair of eyes confirm

this place in the flow is mine.

In my relative time exists only me and God – my relative in time.


No moments can ever pass me,

and no seconds will ever be missed, I am inside time.

From the moment of eternity’s conception, I was added into

the equation to make it whole, just as everyone else who is in time.


This is my home until I’m marked “return to sender”

and can finally unlock the doors that I acknowledge…

but am too flawed as a body to enter.


And which time will I be in upon passing the threshold?

Is it still my relative time?

Will I be in time, or out of time…

leaving this narrow plane of reason?

No matter what I have learned, or will learn,

have taught or will teach…I am in time.


In time I can escape that which I am in

time has assured me of that.





The Portrait




Discontent is in the eyes

The straight line of her lips,

Not the slightest curve upward

It’s more than dissatisfaction,

More than a restless desire

for something new,

something different

It was all of that and more.


The artist knew her well

Knew the weight on her shoulders

of an unrelenting guilt

Could not make up for the way

She had treated her mother.







My Wild Life




Think Vermont country life is tranquil, devoid of auditory disturbances?

Twilight: peepers convention gathers

high pitched operatic solos, sound barrier broken

rowdy, competing males, romantic illusions, hopeful, frenetic desires.


Shhh——- momentary silence.

A thousand fireflies flashing, flirtatious, flickering flames answering

fiery calling, Morse code communication.


3 A.M., piercing lamentations. 

Howling.  Yelping, laughing, gathering.

Coyotes at it again, fervor festival.


Big eyes, screeching mouths, barking calls, screams

fearless, hunting night denizens, hiding.


Owl duet. Cheers!


At last, dawn.  The silent ones appear

daylight gluttons, chlorophyll  consumers:

woodchuck, deer, chipmunks devouring, munching.

Thieving squirrels, stinging hornets, hiding mice, slithering snakes.


Curtain of darkness lifts, daybreak at last.

Wild ones seeking slumber, as do I.


neigh, neigh, neighbaaaa, baaa, baaa


Oh, no

The wild ones are making me wild.  





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