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.

Miami Haze

A tepid, electric cyan sea splashes,
painting my sweaty knees with salt.
Chest-high, pumping,
thick black rubber hoops pull lazily
‘round a glistening pair of
stainless-steel spokes,
pulling, leading, sluggishly
‘long the sun-poached, yellow-brick path,
one inch closer, ever
to the buoyant, airborne poet’s mind,
where I am free; where
finally, aloft
to soar.
When, in the time it takes
this hummingbird mind
to switch a fairy tale’s focus,
the piercing, incongruous
menacing, malevolent hiss
and roar of coastline fighter jet maneuvers
rip mercilessly,
through the pale blue tint of surrender
to one staggeringly blissful,
Miami morn’s
silky haze.

Body Pillow

he slips softly
into the pale, blue-grey
shadows of the sheepish
dawning light
face first, peeking
so not to wake me;
just in case, I’m still asleep
my naked thigh & nalgas
snuggle limpidly
‘round the length of the crisp,
creamy white comforter
kneaded flawlessly
to the form, to the girth
of a full-grown
pillow man

Constant of Contentedness

Without knowing
the simple puressence
of our being We just might spend
an entire addled lifetime
in a psychologicself

In the current
and ever-changing weather conditions:
Partly cloudy,
with a likely chance of thunderstorms…

In the one who’s been conditioned
– to react!
Bewildered by worldly events By biochemistry’s
flights of fancy.

The surest way
for you to know
the joyful, unrestrained
nature of puressence Our perennially present
and essential
climatic constitution:

72 degrees
With bright blue skies
& a Constant
of Contentedness

is through silence…

In the meditative state
of communion
with things otherwise,

Home on New Year’s Day

A whole lifetime’s past
since I saw you last
leaving the house this morn’
in blue champion sweats
a hat, to cover your ears
from the new year’s biting dawn.
From a goose down berth
billowing to the seams
silky tufted quills, prick
then make me sneeze
eyes watering
nausea turns my head
into a swirling cobalt carousel
of pink and white
papier-mâché ponies.
Incidental moments, telescope
one into another
then all into the next
each keeping company
with a scattered band
of park bench brothers.

Thinking, Thoughtlessly 

Eyes sweep left
they bob, reel right
mindlessly observing
spinning briny bales
unfurling foamy white

Rolling blue thunder
yields the veiled, crisp horizon
powdered with crystal mist
oxygen roars on a corkscrew jet
a salty-surf hisses, whispering: dissipate!

Drowning the din, the months
of full and monkey-mind moons
twisted, furled, entangled
like a purging breath
‘neath the thunderous
ocean’s boom