Ozzie Boone

“You’ll be together forever.”

Here lies the soul of a good man,

the best of them all.

And though he was cursed with seeing death,

I loved him as a son.

His name was Odd Thomas,

and he’s gone to his Stormy girl,

though I miss him terribly,

I know he’s fine, way above.

Fully smooth and fully blue,

that’s my boy.

And when I too am finally gone,

I hope I may see him too.


Here I stand, alone again,

the ocean is far below.

There is nothing left for me to stand,

nowhere to call my home.

My love has forgotten me,

my heart has been sold,

there is nothing left for me,

save for what was left long ago.

The pelt of life’s past,

still tasting of salt,

my children are all grown and gone,

and I’m all alone.

Take the skin, girl to woman,

slip below the waves.

Join the dance of your seal kin

and let the waves wash your life away.

making home

Broken boards and shattered windows,

splintered stairs and shuddering eaves,

all those things and more to me,

mean a potential nest to meet.


There is no greater force than two,

action, reaction,

you drew me out of my shell,

I toned down your soul.

We are equal yet different,

opposites do attract.

And the greatest attraction of this earth

is two souls who love, and love,

and still love.

on the other side

If I fell to my knees,
jeans in the dark dirt, would you raise me high?
What happened to this heart, this love?
Why do we believe in the world that failed,
pray for the smoke and the poisoned lungs
of babes which sucked in everything
we nurtured, the venting spleen
which gave way to your mothers’ toxic waste,
your fathers’ mute faces, distant, and even still
we burn the flags that offend, we scream and moan
and jeer at those who try beneath the thin mask of offense.
I have no words for swine. No pearls for the great apes
who lope at Wall Street, the common man who
leaned over his drink, softly weeping to Patsy and the jukebox nostalgia.
The old gods had it right. Cut off the organs of the father
eat out your lives, hold the world on a breath.
This is an entreaty to you, lady of golden eyes and honey love.
Naked Lady of the Half-Shell. Come back.


the rain fell

and if you heard

if you listened

you would hear it,

soft strains of them,

a man and woman,


and to them, in that rain,

there is nothing else


save for heartbeats

and the drum of rainfall.


The green-grey of a storm is utterly electrifying.

You can almost taste the violent potential,

even as the air presses down on you,

and birds huddle away tightly,

and there is nothing behind but golden sunlight

and that dark storm, looming,

that thunder sound low and rumbling over you.

My Neighbor the Widow Spider

She sits near a window and never knocks,

though you know she’s always at home.

Spinning, weaving, making time

by measure of her lengthy thread.

Little delicate creature of black,

why do you hover so?

Peering through my window frame,

do you dream of warm rooms,

no rent,

not hanging by a thread?

Little old woman in your stamp of bright red,

do you know that your sign says

stand back?

I’d love to come and let you in,

if only you would refrain

from venomous tendencies!

to time

If there was something there, and all we had

could be carried, this slip-thin gently-used old love we

had used along would remain; but

this is us, the ones who had enough of the world.

And you wanted more, but I had enough.

Enough to carry and sustain, but you and

she had your minutes, while I had enough of time.


“Had we but world enough and time..” To His Coy Mistress, by Andrew Marvell.

We Two Fools, a sestina

I hope you can forgive
a devious sense of humor
which can, or will delight
in that lovely presence,
now, if only you remember
us two fools grinning.

And while we are grinning
I hope you’ll forgive
that I can remember
your own gentle humor
at my disheveled presence
and obvious delight.

And to this delight
for which I’m clearly grinning
At your new presence
You seem to forgive
my weird brand of humor
And oh! I also remember..

Or at least think I remember
that midnight sweet delight
touched by your sweet humor
those lips temptingly grinning
but of course you’ll forgive
my flustering presence.

And what presence
can’t I remember?
Please do forgive.
This tonight delight
is graced by grinning
fools with love’s humor.

and that love’s humor
is given a presence
of two grinning
friends who can remember
a lover’s delight
which time can forgive.

But your lovely soul humor I will always remember
that true, luminary presence, my own true delight.
You leave me standing, grinning. A temptation I can forgive.