Reading a Poem

Blue Spot

Blue Spot


Reading a Poem

There’s never a delay
in reading a poem.
The words don’t spoil.
The spaces between the words
don’t split open or compress.
And the periods
still make you stop.

Gregory Zeorlin 12/10/2016 @ 8:14am
This was my email reply to a friend who said
he was sorry for the “delay” in reading a poem
I had recently sent him.



Best Friend’s Bark

Man's Best Friend

Man’s Best Friend

Best Friend’s Bark

Friends don’t wait at the door with tails wagging
or fetch what is thrown across the yard.
Friends are not trained to be consistent
but are persistent on sharing life’s treats.

Friends resist the leash
but often don’t mind walking in the same direction
when you need them to though friends could also lead you
on a walk you might not make down a street with new names
or around a lake that floods and then goes suddenly dry.
Most friends cannot walk on water or part it upon command
but some will take you to a stream you need to taste.

You’ll never be expected to bag your friend’s waste
unless something has gone terribly wrong
and that dog in you is dying and wandering down a trail
only a friend would follow with a friend.

So we cannot be
like man’s best friend
but might take a few lessons from a dog who
might bite and yes a friend could bite
and that would be a surprise if you kept friends
just like well trained dogs
all barking a second language.

Gregory Zeorlin 12/6/14 5:01am

Click here to read more poetry.  Learn more about the imaginary home of my imaginary dogs at . And maybe, just maybe…visit the StickyPhilosopher Facebook page.

Listening (a poem)






Someday I’m going to shut up
sit down and listen
to all the things and words
I’ve been missing.

I’ll hear what I should have heard
at some point long ago
I’m starting today
before the next time goes away.

I’ll sit listening instead of hissing
as the world expands beyond
the reaches of my rattling voice
and shrinking head.

Yes, I’m making a choice
it’s time to listen more
before another one of us
flies away (or drops dead).

Gregory Zeorlin 11/11/14 10am
Copyright 2014 Gregory Zeorlin

Click here to read a few more of my poems.