DAVID E. HOWERTON - POEMS

David is a part time programmer and lives in the American River Canyon outside of Auburn Ca. He has done landscaping sign painting cooking and made jewelry to pay the bills. He and his wife live with two bossy cats. He has three adult daughters and eight grandchildren. His hobbies include type design, soapstone carving, walks in the woods, collecting dragons, and a growing library of Science Fiction. ​

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​--Despite the aftertaste-- 

​Been long day so far, isn't even noon yet,
but a cup of tepid coffee
and a warm wind make me think of words.
 
Ragged breathing almost doze
yet headache sits behind eyes
sucking energy away leaves pain.
 
Hands shake symptom of half sleep,
and exhaustion, and just not in best health,
takes to long dealing with doctors.
 
Tepid coffee sits in sunlight
after hours tastes like pencil shavings,
but that doesn't stop me drinking it. 

​--Damned shame-- 

​Understand being ignorant isn't bad,
but when you find out you're ignorant,
and refuse to learn
glorifying empty headedness.
 
Then you're wrong and
have decided to lean to evil.
 
It's hard to do right anyway,
and when in course of trying,
you end up having to fight
those willfully ignorant too
you end up overwhelmed.
 

​--days when everything seems-- 

​Brightly don't give up
at least not while alive
there's reason to hope.
 
But there are days
when everything seems
beyond your capabilities.
 
It's then you need
to breathe deep and slow
thinking about plans
before doing/letting things happen.
 
Overloaded on coffee
thick with sugar
to jittery to get beyond
wait think maybe
something will come. 

​--Cool enough to see something-- 

​July, cool day
a few white clouds
nothing much.
 
Traffic speeds by
most going home
some no idea.
 
Sip last of cold coffee
dump on sidewalk
mouth and stomach
want no more to do with it.
 
Under guardrail ears twitch
a hare nibbles
hawk circles watching,
wonder which will get hit
by car heading home.
 

 --Early on Wednesday-- 

​Hot, sweat soaked shirt
and hair, dripping down
forehead.
Small birds high
in trees unseen here
call for mates
(late in their season.)
Coffee's cold
don't care
drink tepid remains,
swallow grounds
just another gift.
Smell of burned gas
drifts up road
irritating eyes and nose.