My worried hair – Cary Briel

Posted on Oct 17, 2010 in Poetry, Writing

Is it acid
or just the void—
from the coffee
or perhaps the noise?
Is it apathy,
indifference—
is it love
or am I smitten?
Should I know?
Should I care?
Black or white,
my worried hair.

The red maple – Cary Briel

Posted on Sep 25, 2010 in Poetry, Writing

The red maple dies
but the birds don’t know.
They stand amidst
bare branch and leaf.
They nest in rotten knots
that serve their needs.
Woodpeckers
mark their calendars.
What disease,
so unwelcome
and untimely,
found you my friend?

Your cute feet – Cary Briel

Posted on Sep 5, 2010 in Poetry, Writing

Your cute feet I planted in the rows of my garden
between a radish and squash.
I’m planning to pluck them and make a nice salad,
but first your toes must be washed.
When I see your white ankles I’ll know that your ready—
I’ll take out my best silverware.
But I’ll not likely pluck them or dare ever eat them,
but I’ll sit all the day and just stare.

Truth or dare – Cary Briel

Posted on Sep 5, 2010 in Poetry, Writing

Look upon me with lifted up eye,
replace all my devils with yours,
for I’d much rather live in the fire with you
than to live in a room without doors.
Strip off your clothes and skip through the coals,
it burns off all of our hair.
I knew you’d be game for the dream when I asked
if you wanted to play truth or dare.

Frayed band-aid – Cary Briel

Posted on Jan 5, 2010 in Poetry, Writing

Frayed band-aid,
thank you for being brand name.
It’s two showers later
and you’re still there.
Soaked with your telltale blood smear
you tell—
You betray to all passers by
my slip—
Better you’d lie.

As I stare – Cary Briel

Posted on Sep 27, 2009 in Poetry, Writing

As I stare, I come to realize
that I may need to pinch
this skin of varied inch
and wake.
But I, seeing through so many eyes,
believe their comings
and their leavings,
as do they.

An ode to freakish toe

Posted on May 5, 2009 in Poetry, Writing

An ode to freakish toe;
Who you are you know.
Beset by normal kin, Possessing
too much skin
And haunting me quite so.

In sandaled fright you come;
Not fitting into some. A nail
as wide as sea;
Large ships flee, skittishly,
To lands they had come from.

You seek to hide between;
You think to be unseen; Protruding
as you do,
Not fitting into shoe,
To border on obscene.

And though you bring a fright,
Projecting such a sight, I’ve come
to know your face—
Your clumsy, warm embrace—
So kinship is our plight.

Drip drip – Cary Briel

Posted on Apr 22, 2009 in Poetry, Writing

Drip drip
my wistful friend, I bid, ‘Come in, come in.’
For my sore eyes you are a sight
covering up my world of sin.

Oh never mind, I’ll come out,
if you’ll agree to shed your modesty,
I’ll shed these layers
for you to have your way with me.

I feel your soft fingers, a delight
fondling my carnality,
starting up and moving down
changing my reality.

From what distance have you come,
If I ask, will you betray?
And how many others have you
loved in our intimate way?

How much madness have you stalled,
And death, have you ceased that?
Indifference, apathy?
Before which gods have you sat?

Well it’s no matter, not for me.
Your sordid travels are of no regard.
Return any day to ravage me
and heal a soul well scarred.