Friday, November 18, 2011

Potato Skies

A L O H A !
Urge For Going [Remastered Album Version] by Tom Rush on Grooveshark

Too much golden butter
on these morning mashed potato clouds. . . 
Part of me actually hungers
for gray days
at this time of year.

I mean the kind of grey,
November days I knew
growing up on the East Coast.

  Skies of pewter, and stone.
  When the world seems
of inspiration
or sparkle;

But that's OK.
We hide at home
accomplishing "nothing."
Reading the same page
over and over,
till overcome by
infectious as a

I think
we need to lie fallow;
like a field.

Something undoubtedly
mentally healthy
is occurring then.

Some of us,
slaves to the 'should'
need colds or flu
to force us to participate
in this orgy of

But I believe
in wool-gathering

We sleep-walk through tasks
that cannot be postponed
(or ducked).
  But long to return home
  to stare with delicious
at the TV,
whatever. . .

Bed and beverages 
are important parts
of this ritual

One feels (I feel!)
about as interesting
as a lump of cold potatoes.

(How nice for YOU)
But that's OK;
It's strangely cozy
feeling like that

Why have I never noticed this
while walking 20+ years in Waikiki? 

Oahu in November
has such days,
days of puddles and puddings.
  Days to savor. 
Days to be potato:
  All eyes, no mouth. 

Days to cherish the bland 
the every-day-ness
of Fall.

Of life.

  Blessed soft days!

To rest up,
to hide, 
to hold indulgent parties
 with myself.

(Another cupcake?)

What guilty, unproductive joys
tempt YOU to hide at home
on such a gray
mashed potato

Rouse yourself long enough to leave a comment, please.

                                                                  Thank YOU, Warmly, cloudia