About jftoomey

I'm many things, among which is a linguist, a therapist, a scientist, a business owner, a student, a traveller, a dreamer, a poet, a friend, a dog lover, and I'm sure other things that I'd rather not mention here.

Blue-Eyed Scribe

my tanned,
pale-cobalt blue-eyed
scribe
peers dazèdly into
my ravenous eyes
while a rapturous three-
breasted african queen
hovers like a hungry ghost
over his buzzed
golden-brown
halo.

and a baby suckles,
at her perky third
breast
as he chuggs
cups and cups and cups
of hot black joe

Practice for Living

The clock’s
tic-tock’s sometimes
louder
than a careening
cartoon bomb… One like
Wile E. Coyote’d launch
from a Looney Tunes’
cartoon cliff… Smack/Splat!
and lurching
toward the 8.23.58
bull’s eye
painted on my head… Some say: Congratulations!
I say: time to turn
this tour around,
start all over again… Then suddenly
I realize,
there’s NOTHING
to be done… A calming
ethereal, palpable
whisper urges:
“Release, be
at peace.”
and the more & more
& even more yielding
I manage to become…
brings a silence
and I surrender,
tic-tock’s stopped.
and NO explosion… After all the anguish
said & done,
the clock ticks on…

And some
of life’s most precious
wet & winding expeditions
lush and muddy, and
infinite with grace
almost never, hardly ever
almost never
seem to cease
in yet another calibration
on this one more
daffy day
in a zany, ever-looping
Looney Tunes’
parade