scupper

scupper
Location
North Carolina, USA
Birthday
April 23
Bio
explorer, observer, recorder ------------------------------------- ©Scupper · all rights reserved

MY RECENT POSTS

MY RECENT COMMENTS

Scupper's Links

Blog Tips/Links
No links in this category.
MAY 17, 2012 4:03AM

Still

 
393px-Black_Butte_blackberry 
 
 
The coat was the same,
but it wasn't you.
Same long arms
drifting alongside.
Same lanky swag.
 
For a moment,
just a moment,
I was back traipsing
post your long stride.
 
The wind pushed,
the trees leaned,
and you reached
instinctively back
pulling me… Read full post »
10 Comments
MAY 11, 2012 4:58AM

In the nuptial

 
Sister:  She would pick my busiest month.
 
Aunt:  Coon Dog Day.  Did she set the date for Coon Dog Day?  You know this is the 49th year.  Well, you've been invited every year, why didn't you know the date?
 
Brother:  It's more technically involved, mom… Read full post »
8 Comments
APRIL 1, 2012 6:59PM

By Chance, Leo

machado 

 Poet Antonio Machado, 1875-1939

 

 

Last March, just before the buds released the petals of the dogwood, I met my friend, Leo.

 I was sitting by the pond, writing, and occasionally trailing stale crackers toward pothering ducks.

At the picnic table beside me, a… Read full post »

18 Comments
MARCH 30, 2012 3:00AM

The Float


 
You know,
going back isn't possible.
We can't eclipse
the eclipse.
 
So it's enough
to be here now
with the hint of the Lumbee
floating past and dark and beyond.
Bank sitting. 
 
Isn't it enough
to go forward
with kind words
kind hearts
and ample good… Read full post »
20 Comments
MARCH 18, 2012 10:40AM

Squamate

 
lizard *
 
 
All last year,
when I could not lift my arms,
or reach around to render the clasp
you were there.
 
And you are there now still
cooking
as I do not cook
except in urges
spending hours
or days
stirring among pots.
 
14 Comments
MARCH 11, 2012 1:07PM

Terri's Fog

 

 

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."

- Anais Nin 

 kim and terri

College friends, Kim and Terri, 1977. 

I've lost another friend.  I learned of Kim's passing while paint… Read full post »

29 Comments
FEBRUARY 22, 2012 8:15PM

3rd Flubber-versary

 

 

 

I've been writing three years now.

Here.

Right here.

For a long time, reading.

One day, posting.

And then more.

So much more,

the longer. 

 

800px-Tealights_Stacked *

 

 

 Flub Update:  Actual date for blogiversary - March 15.

*"Tealights Stacked" Wikimedia Com… Read full post »

20 Comments
FEBRUARY 12, 2012 11:02PM

Early bloom

red indian

 

I am waiting for seed,

more color,

early spring.

 

February  is

thick with earth

and fall's trampled gold.

 

I have needs.

New tubes.

A knife.

Cold pressed oil.

 

You stopped 

to say hello.

Simple.

And daffodils bloomed

with frost yet to come. 

 

&nb… Read full post »

15 Comments
FEBRUARY 3, 2012 4:46AM

Monkey Tracks

A monkey with its eyes closed
 
Hannah has come to my door.  Damn.  
Damn my personal philosopy, damn the
when it comes to your door
forever monkey I carry on my back. 
 
Hey Jack, if you are reading, remember this philosophy?
Um, you know it firsthand.
The philo that brought me home one… Read full post »
9 Comments
JANUARY 31, 2012 5:19AM

Every Moment


Lately,
every time I glance the ridge,
I see flags and patches of color.  
The light bounces off the sky
between the leaves and across
the hills yellowing the finch line
between green and brown and blue.  
The seeping, spreading
trails of blooming pink
blanket my… Read full post »
19 Comments
JANUARY 22, 2012 4:31AM

Night, another

800px-Biological_clock_human
 
 
Tonight I woke, too hot, in your new fuzzy poly sheets that feel like blankets.  I no longer care for these sheets.
 
Two nights in a row last week, I awoke when your old cat jumped upon my chest.   That smart cat does not care if… Read full post »
16 Comments
JANUARY 14, 2012 5:10PM

King Cotton

 800px-CottonPlant
 
     Around the age of seven, my Papa K and I sat on a porch shooting pebbles from an oak slingshot he'd cut from a branch in his yard. I still have his forked creation wrapped in a cloth in a box, rotted bands and all.
14 Comments
JANUARY 1, 2012 11:30AM

Lost Words and Bluefield

"I don't know what I was thinking..." 

 

 I lost a poem

last year now.

I didn't follow the rule,

the damn rule of copying and backing

words up.

 

Life was backing up.

And now those words are gone.

And there were lyrics too.

Lyrics that 

once brought echo… Read full post »

Comments are now closed for this post.
DECEMBER 21, 2011 1:57PM

A Crossing

 
Twice now,
in dreams you've crossed the sea.
I've seen your hands and locks and limbs.
I've seen your eyes.
 
In sleep like this,
I curl and pull the blanket
toward my chin.
I breathe it in.
And dare a life to wake me.
 
I know not… Read full post »
13 Comments
NOVEMBER 25, 2011 3:19AM

River, Through, and Woods

 tunnel
 
 
An artery from my heart
runs holed like the Asheville tunnel
where blood etched across
my foreman father's hands
stains a foundation,
long, narrow, dark.
 
As you pass 
your breath thins,
your pressure drops. 
 
Turn on your lights,
and honk and… Read full post »
14 Comments
NOVEMBER 6, 2011 11:32AM

Sunday wrapping

horse
 
 
Mandolin and percussion,
an orchestrated, spare
album spinning
sabbath morning
which covers me
on the floor like the
tarp on which I am kneeling,
spreading putty
to dry on a picnic table
under this cloudy sun
to paint mixed media
intense, oiled, hue 
wrapped like you
11 Comments
OCTOBER 3, 2011 4:23PM

Weathered

 
I am haunted
by the last hour.
 
If we were lined in pairs,
and you and I
on opposite sides,
I'd Red Rover
you over
again and again.
 
As it is,
there are no parallel lines.
You are mired and oily,
I am spiraled
23 Comments
SEPTEMBER 24, 2011 6:50PM

Elements

 
 
 
Each autumn,
as day's diminish
cajoles my trees
to leave their leaves
across my  walking space,
across my driven hills,
across my molten sky,
I am slain
by the cloak of fall's
soaked threads,
the red and blue
made green, turned gold. 
 
 
26 Comments
SEPTEMBER 3, 2011 10:46AM

When We Were Wee

 

 

I could have listened to you more.

Fifteen years more.

I loved the stories of the boy.

I loved the language of the man.

I heard every word.

Long after we cried,

long after we moved on,

long after we attempted to let go of blame,

I felt I'd… Read full post »

8 Comments
AUGUST 30, 2011 11:09PM

Versions and Revisions


 
 
Scrambling down the path
makes sense now
to Bethany.
 
The slip and slide and brush
away of creepy,
dangling, hanging things.
Those writing spiders.
 
Bethany has colors in her mind
and colors in her heart
and colors in her hand
seeking old furniture in… Read full post »
13 Comments
AUGUST 21, 2011 10:08PM

Bent

 
I crawled to the corner
and curled
until the day turned to night,
until my legs cramped,
until I slid on my belly
back through the door
of my newly rented flat.
 
Did I find it then?
The droning zone
of quiet in the corner.
The lost days … Read full post »
27 Comments
AUGUST 3, 2011 4:56PM

Married?

 

view details

You say you are going to marry.

Him.

I listen to your voice.

Hopeful.

I look at the ideas you share.

Haute.

 

You say you will be.

Happy.

I  rove your eyes.

Hesitant.

You say you must try.

Honor.

 

I'm unable to poem this.

I'm unable to pen… Read full post »

36 Comments
JULY 30, 2011 2:31PM

The Point of Boiling

 


You've cajoled me
come back.
Come back 
to limbs
that dam and bay 
frequent
fits of sleep.
To  impressions
persistent,
intentional, 
tangent,
delineated, 
'til I'm sung
and sated,
pulling organic cover
chinward, 
rested,
and 
feather-sunk
for comfo… Read full post »
18 Comments
JULY 24, 2011 3:28PM

On Quitting and after... (Open Call)


 tap on cary porch 76 cropped
 
 
After I quit you, 
life blurred. 
I heard and called your name in sleep
two years out.
In waking hours,
I stretched my imagination
to sense your tawny skin,
I wrote poetry about shadows
and light streaming through
farmhouse keyholes.
 
After I quit h… Read full post »
41 Comments
JULY 21, 2011 8:48AM

July's Refrain

a creek's bend  
 
When you found me, your life was more manicured.  So was your yard. After the first season, and then again after the season of Indian paintbrushes, I began to realize your demonstrative horticulture as deliberate art.
 
  
 
16 Comments
1 2 3 4 5 Next → Last ⇒