I have lost my piano hand. The banter on Saturn rings in my ears
    (that’s a terrible joke). A few of the handkerchiefs smell like 
    operas. During the night, the ghosts arrive to try on my socks, 
    and to read whatever book I am reading backwards to me. 

I have found a violin hand. Tonight I will camp out “under the stars”
    with Quixote and Pooh Bear. 

The vagrant blue in the November fields. I have that. At least I have
    that. The lost arms of flowers, though nothing weeps. And the only
    color is the electrical structures and the graffiti wire. 

There is dire in blue, directly in this wandering. I will work out the
    equations at a later date. 

At this rate, by the end of the year, the moon will have enough to buy 
    a helicopter. And have that ankle looked at. 

Silence likes to doodle, intentional as clouds.

In a sweater, the handlebars are autumn, even as it rains. 

While riding a bike.

Part of it is the dust from stars. Some of it rolls in the ground, 
    like a season. 

Take a bow, ripple with the sea. Each leaf before it catches hold 
    of the earth

Says hello. 

8 thoughts on “A November Manifesto”

1. This poem is alive with vibrant imagery. And the first stanza made me chuckle a few times. “…the ghosts arrive to try on my socks.” Well done.

   LikeLiked by 2 people

   November 28, 2020 at 2:22 pm Reply

   1. I’m very glad you liked the humor. Thank you.

      LikeLiked by 1 person

      November 28, 2020 at 3:59 pm Reply

2. I’ve got no idea what’s going on here, Bob and frankly it doesn’t much matter. I’m just on a wild roller coaster of images and I’m hopping on for another ride; wheeeeeeeeeeee

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   November 28, 2020 at 5:51 pm Reply

   1. Thanks John, that’s actually a perfect response to this poem. I’m glad you had fun reading it. Awesome!

      LikeLiked by 1 person

      November 28, 2020 at 5:58 pm Reply

3. Bob, as always, adore your mixed metaphor and even (picking from between my teeth to study again the half-chewed joke of Saturn), think, hmm, that ain’t so terrible after all.
   Good work!

   LikeLiked by 1 person

   November 29, 2020 at 9:58 am Reply

   1. Thanks Nick! Glad you enjoyed it.

      LikeLiked by 1 person

      November 29, 2020 at 12:42 pm Reply

4. It’s all about “the vagrant blue in the November fields.”

   LikeLiked by 1 person

   December 3, 2020 at 9:41 am Reply

   1. Thanks Andy. Glad you liked that line. I thought I touched on something when that line came to me.

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      December 3, 2020 at 11:18 am Reply