MINERVA

 MINERVA

Minerva is a little shy

Pigtailed

And this lonely boy's fantasy 

She lives in a country house

With flowers in the windows

And a dainty "M"

In the middle of her screen door

She does not know

I have had visions of her

When my heels kick up the dust

Of these country roads

She wakes at 7 a.m.

Gathers fresh flowers from the meadows 

(Her 100 cats scratch at the window panes,

Awaiting her return.) 

She buys milk and eggs

From Mr. Buck's country store

And

Exchanges trivial remarks

About rain and sunshine

With the old men at the Main Street Inn

Minerva

Is a woman of the land

Attired in simple dresses and earth shoes

I am a shy man of honor and conscience 

Watching her activity

From my house across the way.

She does not know me except to smile and nod

She does not know I have had visions 

Of kissing her dry and windswept lips.

Beneath a canopy of bright summer stars.

-Bruce Potts

Copyright 2024

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

IF WE SO DECIDE

IF WE SO DECIDE

It is true that I can, if I so decide,

Lasso myself a fluffy cloud and take a joyful ride.

Make the sun shine for myself or likewise make it rain,

I can maximize my pleasure and minimize the pain.

It is true that I can if I so decide,

Hang my troubles out to dry beneath a sky of cobalt blue,

On the mend in the land of pretend with a jar of joy for you.

You who glitter in my life, calm the bitter, bring the bright,

A measurement of merriment to speed you on your way.

And cooly conjure up for you a happy holiday.

It is true that I can, with sheer power of mind,

Traverse across the universe, transcending space and time.

Burning like a rocket ship to the land of the great divide,

With spirits of the past and future clamoring to my side.

Beam me up to the Mother Ship, where I will carefully tread.

And later make a mirthful noise enough to wake the dead.

It is true I can do most anything within my soul and heart.

I could rise and mend the wounds of the world if I knew just where to start.

Just give me power to harness and the will to love and learn,

And I will catch a falling star and scarcely feel the burn.

I will come to gather you and together we shall ride

On a pristine golden spaceship, if we so decide.

-Bruce Potts

Copyright 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

FRESH NIGHTMARES

FRESH NIGHTMARES

Sailing down my private Styx,
Searching for a brand new fix.
The coiled serpent around the neck
No longer does the gruesome trick.
No longer in his vaunted mesh
My weary thoughts enslaves and snares.
I'm looking for some nightmares fresh
Brand new scandalous scares.

Nighttime is my fright time,
How like the lion it once roared.
My dreaming and my inner life,
Were the only ways my spirit soared.
Armies encamped on the field,
Mine vanquished by a slash of sword,
Felled by gargantuan guillotines,
The horror leaves me cold and bored.
I hope I've not become blasé,
I hope I'm not desensitized,
I think that I just need to find,
Some brand new theater of the mind.

Fresh nightmares to pluck at the eyeballs,
That leave me intoxicated with the rush of a highball.
Some new drama, perhaps an alien in the force field.
Some super hero enemy, thrusting out his shield,
Leaving me to sally forth and parry,
The weight of disease on my back I carry,
Into the confounded conflagration,
Like some ancient knight of yore,
A nighttime private exhortation,
Full of guts, chock full of gore.
My private horror movie screening,
Replete with blood and my own screaming,
Designed to waken my sleeping will,
My emptiness of days to fill,
Fodder for a novel perhaps,
Devilish accompaniment to naps.
Some twisted weird reminder that I am still here,
Vibrant and ready to conquer the fear.

I'm ready for the heady rush, all I need's a little push.
Ready for the night of the living dead,
The monsters in waiting beneath my bed.
Just give me a nightlight and a flask,
Then bring on the ghouls in their gruesome masks.

When all the muscles freeze and stiffen,
When all I have's imagination,
I toss my hat into the ring and join the celebration.
My dream life a perilous plunge deep into the restless sleep.
Of a tainted twisted fairy tale, where the handsome princes weep.
Trapped in some familiar once upon a time,
Where life was one of normalcy and endings so sublime.

Sailing down the river Styx,
Hopes and fears into the mix.
The same old tripe to the surface bubbles,
Mind-numbing as all my toils and troubles.
The frightful it can be delightful, as long as you stay fast asleep,
Fresh nightmares, new night scares, they crawl and they creep.
Meaning no harm, they disturb and alarm.
Leaving me shaking and stifling my screams,
Falling headfirst on the sword of my dreams.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2013
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED