Comments Posted By Kevin Geraghty

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The word: Home


I hate going home,
climbing through discarded bones
looking for a seat

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On August 3, 2018 @ 7:09 am

The word: Morning

That Breezy Day

We were lucky that day,
jostled by each other,
half-blind in the sun.
Lucky that Matthew was downwind
ready to run
after the words. 
Stunning words, but only air
thrown against a breeze,
blown all round the mountain,
even back at Jesus.

“Blessed are…”
might have been enough to hear…
that someone could be good,
that anyone could be good enough,
after centuries of sorrow.

And there was Matthew,
on fire, he thought,
chasing the words
with eyes, then feet, then hands.
Caressing each one, even while scanning
for the next.
He imagined them doves,
was surprised to be pecked and scratched.

“Blessed are…,”
Not someday, Matthew,
This morning!
Right now!
Blessed are the dove chasers
who love even this
scratch and peck world.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On July 25, 2018 @ 9:00 am

The word: Sun

I wonder if you know
this spot.
We didn’t really travel here
as much as it came up on us
ankle grabbing
we followed without fight,
heard there was a light
waiting to shine.
So we waited too.
Waited as if
that was enough to do
with a life,
never knew we had to be
the shining.
We are children
We flip on the sun, don’t we?

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On July 16, 2018 @ 5:23 am

The word: Grateful

$200 an hour

She had failed in the worst way, they say,
that a woman can fail, …
He asked
“Do you deserve to be loved?”

“I went about it all wrong….
Life isn’t fair…
I expect too much…
It’s never too late….
I’ve made bad choices…
I’m looking for my Dad
Which one do you like?”

” Do you deserve to be loved?”

love is a miracle,
not a contest.
Does anyone DESERVE a miracle?
Did Lazarus rise because he deserved it?
I’d rather be chasing a miracle
than think I deserve one, and screwed it up.
I want to be grateful for all the love
that still happens in this world…
deserved or not.”

Mystery solved …
It was self-esteem
that killed gratitude….
In the therapy office…
With a blunt discourse.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On June 2, 2018 @ 1:39 pm

The word: Fishing

Rt 126

First thing, she pulled me down.
I couldn’t know if I was
deaf, or drowned
in the McKenzie.

We agreed to
glide green, read
each leaf and needle flash,
watch azaleas sing out in
pink purple white.
We paused for
red rhododendron riots
and young goats, popped
in a rash across
pasture and barnyard.
Eggs for sale, cheese, butter,
belts, saddles,
carvings meant
for totems, aside
painless homes with palm prints
on the wooden screen door.
Homes of grandmothers
who go fishing like it matters,
read a book like it doesn’t.

McKenzie left me kissed at Clear Lake
to face Santiam pass.
She wonders
what the mountains keep out,
and why she can’t know
even if I tell her.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On May 24, 2018 @ 7:11 pm

The word: Diversity

Negentropic Me

I love to see
in my dinner salad
or fish tank.
Diversity for my pleasure,
a smiling black man
at my bank.
He might teach me a dance,
we’ll nod to the rants
of men from a hood
I’ll never see
And when I tire
I’ll offer thanks
to sleep above the ranks
of entropic diversity

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On May 16, 2018 @ 3:01 pm

The word: Dazzling

The Second Time I Knew Myself

Going down
in grey quarry water,
afraid of drowning without fight
in sight of the prairie,
and bubbling devotion …
“Reach me Lord, with a dazzling stroke.
Blind the world
to the sight of this shame.
I’ll tell the lies
we’ll remember me by,

But drowning goes on and on
until you learn.
Underwater life
offers no edge,
you have only tiny
silver scales
to catch the current
and glide
as if you know how to stop.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On May 9, 2018 @ 4:59 pm

The word: Kindness

We Only Spoke Briefly

She says she fears
her future,
sometimes missing words
she knew
she had packed.
Her sense of humor
often sat
in the dark part
of her father’s shadow.
He spoke once of sadness,
once of fear
and disappeared.

She wants to play
her life away
before experience peels
from understanding.
Even more,
she wants
to pour
like sticky syrup,
over all her days.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On May 3, 2018 @ 6:38 am

The word: Connection

A Visit

Crossing the summer sky,
ungracefully connected
by cackle speech,
shake-a-pepper crows
scratch their initials
all over pink geraniums.

“Hey, Hey, Look out!
Gimme that! … Watch it!
Wake up! … Back off!
I got your mother nature right here!”

Sky-borne again,
the black aerial circus
moves on,
every sleepy bubble
on the block.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On April 28, 2018 @ 4:02 pm

The word: Wormhole

Taking New Orleans Seriously

That other world,
the one that plays
peek a boo
with your serious life,
rides in and out the wormhole,
clarinet in hand.
You might see it through the
stained glass of St Stephens,
stopping for jokes and
a sip of holy water
to ease the way down
Napoleon boulevard.

This is where that other world lives,
mowing the lawn,
fixing the screen door
dreaming lottery numbers
until the music starts
and plays the long night down.

That other world wonders,
when it’s time to leave,
If serious life

is worth saving,
with those storms
coming year after year.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On April 19, 2018 @ 5:55 am

The word: Enforcer


Kind reinforcement
won’t fool my dog Finn, smelling
the enforcer’s will.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On April 12, 2018 @ 8:39 am

The word: Ephemeral

Open Mic

Come to the High Note!
Stay to hear
silverware back-sounds
fade away, to
silently say
the world is ready
for those ephemeral sheets
of you,
finally escaping their
dusty home.
Each poem,
a fireworks show,
lit and lobbed
so briefly bright, moonlight
starlight, maybe a flashlight
that points your way
to the backseat
of your Dad’s car,
Into the box of
your Mom’s secret letters,
Across the threshold of
that dark room,
where you can finally
now that your words have been heard.
You will be moved, shaken
by echoes that don’t even
sound like you,
can’t be contained
in any of your old ways.
You’ll be ready
to live both these lives at once,
screaming and holding your ears
at the same time.
Let them fight for you if they will.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On April 7, 2018 @ 2:08 pm

The word: Quixotic

Undertaker Bees

Here they come,
their bee arms entangled with
their dead.
struggle bodies out the door
try to let go,
but the dead forget
to cooperate.
They grab and hold,
the partners roll,
flip, lie on the carcass pile
slowly pry free the
small hooks and hairs
of their shared lives.
Quixotic drones
stopped flying,
eating, working,
but never stop belonging.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On April 2, 2018 @ 1:47 pm

The word: Curiouser

Afternoon Encounter

Ice eyed dragonfly,
silent motor spinning,
watches the crow,
watching me…
curiouser, curiouser,
more abrupt
than a beat cop.

He struts and stills me
in raspy call.
“C’mon, C’mon”
I’m ordered to
dance my understanding,
show my ID,
hope for the best.

Dragonfly moves aside.
The cop with steady eyes,
beak and claw
waits for the mistake
that always comes
in time for dinner.

He calls me out;
“someone new…
weak eyed,
phony feathered,
No Food!”

A warning caw
from the cop who knew
I was only pretending
to belong.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On March 22, 2018 @ 10:29 am

The word: Starlit

Particle and Wave

Maybe time won’t tell…
And even if it did tell,
would it tell the truth?
Many regrets are polished
into pretty beach stones.

What if time doesn’t know
a single thing about flying?

Doesn’t ever crawl,
or stand still?

Time must ignore the insult
of ferns, tulips, sunflowers
who still refuse
anything more routine than
light and dark.

Maybe it labors,
deep into the starlit hours,
repairing railroad watches,
glorified, in that golden filigree.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On March 14, 2018 @ 11:45 am

The word: Heartless | Ice Cream

Thanks, Martin. I am committed to some kind of response every time, regardless of how stumped I feel at first. I think stumpedness results in a product that is loose, which is good for me.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On March 13, 2018 @ 12:44 pm

Too Much

Everyone says I need more.

Saint Mark says

“worry about
your camel’s fat ass,
the needle’s thin eye.”

I worry about
Too much sunshine
Too much ocean
Too much meat,
not enough motion

Even ice cream
has learned to scream
about too much fat,
heartless lactose attacks

Have you heard of too much?
It’s everywhere I go,
stuff I don’t know,
too much,

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On March 9, 2018 @ 4:40 am

The word: Cognizant

Cascade Time

Be willing
to crawl through mud
if it takes you
to that spot
where the earth finally speaks.
Listen with forbearance to
granite, basalt, piney loam.
Even the owls
have been too hurried
to hear their thoughts.

This is your home,
concrete, fieldstone, timbers
that witness
your stormy dream,
your family of twisted shoots, limbs,
needles and leaves.

From here, you might live forever,
fed to the babies of your babies,
and theirs.
Your name, spoken in a toast,
and in outrage or laughter,
remembered, at least,
by cognizant mud and stone,
still in the middle of
saying hello.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On March 3, 2018 @ 8:44 am

The word: Lymph

Sitting With Brian

Even cells have to decide
about selfishness.

Stop it!

bulging for more and more

That’s my brother!

puss glutton

I’ve seen
half-lived lives
flash goodbye,
fireflies trapped
deep in that membrane.

Leave him alone!

That wide mouth tumor
has his body, and all he knows,
swallowed whole.

I want him back!

I want an explanation,
I want an apology
for hanging his star
in some other sky.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On February 22, 2018 @ 5:57 am

The word: Starmony


Join the bats when daylight sinks
among Ponderosas.
Watch that black tide rise
up the trunk
erasing red-brown bark and
viridescent limbs.

Listen to
moonlessness howl at you
and the coyotes.
Learn to use peripheral vision.
Stars may be as far as they say,
but the light,
the light will be right on your face.
Sing starmony until the moon returns.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On February 14, 2018 @ 9:39 pm

The word: Inspiration

Over The Pass

The road has a way of climbing
before your eyes notice
the uphill tilt
the wider spacing
the more and more glinting rock
where the sky opens
and curves tighten up.

By then you are
part of something
you have no choice about,
even though you could pull over
or should have, when you were only
tilting a bit.

Everyone downshifts,
steers with both hands,
you know you will, too.
The climb is the inspiration,
It’s all you want to do
until you summit yourself.

Rest now if you like
take in the view
pat your dashboard with thanks,
no matter what you do
you will soon be on your way,
pumping the brakes
undoing yourself.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On February 8, 2018 @ 3:14 pm

The word: Knitting


I watched closely.
She was knitting in silence,
fingers so focused,
her head slightly cocked,
eyes watching nothing
she lightly rocked

alongside her mother’s
mother’s mother and
the sheepherders,
the giving sheep, the goats
and llamas
who warm the infant feet of each family,
who shield seamen and captain
for the cold chase of cod.

She is ancient,
open to voices
who speak without doubt
who she can be,
how to catch fish,
what the gravy needs
to make her father smile.

It’s a soft breeze drifting
from ear to ear,
knowing the world consists
of puzzle pieces
that take years
to find their spots.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On February 2, 2018 @ 1:09 pm

The word: Contracts

Flowery Lane

He claimed it the oldest
bridge in the country,
while we travelled
the wagon road from Plymouth.

A map
from his pocket
showed where the stranger lived
last October,
when the Goldens got soft
beyond anything but sauce.

He was seen
throwing those rotters
from the new freeway bridge,
contracted for forty years
of white silence.

It can only wait
for brown apple mush,
or the red- blooded last second
of rabbit life.

He claims it the youngest
bridge to learn how
concrete groans
before the first
Nor’easter cleans
it’s brutal skin.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On January 28, 2018 @ 10:41 am

The word: Fret

Disabled with a Dog

I am
a mobster of omission,
my fedora, sharp enough
to cut his witness throat.

But he is calm.
Nothing to witness,
nothing to fret.
He likes to say..
“Doing nothing is
a hard crime to prove.”

We wear down the day
leaving only
the impossible repair of
unfaithful muscle,
broken promises.

He shows no conscience
about days of nothing,
pretends to sleep
through my apologies,
having leaned faithfulness
generations ago.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On January 18, 2018 @ 7:44 pm

The word: Voyage

Dinner, On the Road

If it was me out there,
I’d keep eyes on the squirrel,
not the cars.
some plump part,
bloody fur for a grip
in position to
for traffic.
that pick-up,
meat and bone
toward the roadside weeds
my beak
has the lift it needs
to free organs from asphalt.
Our voyage can’t wait,
it’s time to
that small smashed life
into mine.
then flight.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On January 14, 2018 @ 10:10 am

The word: Generosity

I Belong to the North

The Canadian sky
becomes unframed
east of Calgary,
a full generosity of blue
roundly north
and only north.
My own eyes
feel the muscular pull.
East and west slant downhill
and the green muddy south becomes
only that land behind me.
I’ll follow prairie to tundra,
to ice that joins sky
the way an ocean can do
when the shore slides from view.
Today, I’ll find that place where
God’s lips inflate
the white world
with blue blessings.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On January 5, 2018 @ 5:18 am

The word: What if

Longest study ever

“Correlations suggested no significant stability of personality characteristics over a 63-year interval,” wrote the researchers.
What if…
“There is growing neuroscience research that suggests that our notion of a stable “self” is nothing more than an illusion,” wrote the researchers.
What if…

the cash cow concept
may be running dry.
And who says a stable self,
a personality,
was ever our notion?
Your tool
Your weapon
Your way to fool us
into shrinking.
We are so used to
life in tiny boxes
we might not ever
Or ask
What if…

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On December 31, 2017 @ 10:30 am

The word: Antiquarian

Creamy Irish charm
makes the rounds,

antiquarian brogue
wafts the terminal…

and then the whistling.

“A nice whistle” said I

“That whistle was
my father’s before me”
said he.
“And is it a visit to Ireland
or a coming home
that you’re about?”

“I hope it’s both”

“Then I’ll loan you a whistle”

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On December 21, 2017 @ 12:26 pm

The word: Chapter


I saw the last chapter start,
pieces of us
coming apart
your coat peeling off
with your heart
still in it.
I couldn’t feel happiness
in your skin.
I waited
…but you slept.
Every inch of thigh
of you
every too-large dream
of you
all the storm that
is you
was perfect
in fading light.
I wanted only to fade
that gently.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On December 13, 2017 @ 2:49 pm

The word: Crestfallen

The Sunday Visit

Meet the waiting
the wounded
their rubber-tipped props,
broken histories
have stopped.
“Mother is coming today”
“Help me find the way”
Missed buses,
missing spouses,
estranged shirt buttons,
they refuse
crestfallen mortality.
“Can’t you stay?”
“Let’s go home”

Not today.

» Posted By Kevin Geraghty On December 7, 2017 @ 6:42 am

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