Posts tagged ‘poetry’

in memory of Ms. Ed Yeaw

in memory of Ms. Ed Yeaw

i would say your face
is etched in my memory
but it somehow is not, only
the parts remaining, not
the whole…

say, rather
that on this morning
more than 30 years later
(having savagely awakened myself
every time i dreamed of you; you
never knew, never even guessed
that loving you was already
nearly “sinful” to me
while we were still ‘together’
though that we were never)
i thought to see your shadow pass.

it shall pass
again and again,
i know
and that i shan’t try to pause itl.

drinking of the moment
i do not, must not
fruitlessly
attempt to grasp it

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Mind you, the attempt to keep hold while not grabbing is either self-contradictory or extremely difficult.

December 10, 2018 at 5:34 pm Leave a comment

on conjoined meanings

6/8/2015

on conjoined meanings

you react in disbelief
when i tell you
i discovered yet again
and this time in a dream

that i can’t do without you.
“o,” you say “but you don’t
show it, you say
so little, you hardly ever
even touch me.”

i shrug. in truth
what love might be, i think

or i might love myself.
and meaning
is not love.

December 6, 2018 at 12:15 am Leave a comment

Journeys

Journeys

as i try to recall
your face, i find
only shadows

on a cave’s irregular wall
but as i struggle
‘gainst my binding chains
(and against my blinding beliefs,

(gifted to me by my peers and seniors)
and finally look back
to see the light’s source
i can find nothing.

perhaps it all
was merely illusion

(“…i would have peace,
and a dry crust…”)
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I’m consigning this to ‘voices’ although it’s relatively new. I consider it unlikely that I’ll seek publication other than in this venue. Most likely the only way I’d do that would be if someone were to ask me to do so. I consider the likelihood of that exactly equal to the probability of my winning the lottery. I don’t play it.

November 3, 2018 at 7:36 pm Leave a comment

Two Studies

imaged reflections

delayed cascades
of shattered moments
eye-blurred                lens-caught
form fractal expressions
of beauty, made
by the shaping of near-molten metal,
there
are many forms of speech.

 

the image is of a smith at his (her) trade, hammering almost liquid metal

__________________________________________________________________

inflected experience*

the fragments of you i remember
i know are (half? mostly?)
certainly part self-perception

it is
like seeking true reflection
in the scattered bits
of a shattered mirror

but

frantically seeking that mirror’s repair
whether
symbol of my longlost soul
or your clear remembrance
(no matter the foreknown pain, i

struggle to recapture
that searing moment
that our meeting was

but as i struggle
to collect those fragments
somehow they cut free, and i bleed
once again
remembering you.

_____________________________________________________________________

These are both ‘studies’ in the sense that they are exercises of a kind–experiments might I suppose might be a better word–in styles and in one mixing of an experimental style I basically abandoned with my ‘normal’ style.  If there is a distinctive difference in much of my poetry and writing and general it probably results from the usage of more than one viewpoint or perspective.

*This in particular is a purely conceptual poem, the image created by a shattered mirror’s reflections (and the attempt to suggest that the apparent distortion may lend a kind of truth that may not be entirely specious). [There is also an echo of
‘sun on bright water
narcissus, shattered
by a pebble’
which was my landmark poem in that it represented a definitive step into my own style without any hint of apology.  Since I deliberately employed Grecian mythology in the poem to the extent that it is meaningless without its knowledge, it was a fairly brazen act.  I lived with and amongst Christian Reformed people–Calvinists, who abhorred idolatry.  But then my book report for the class for baptism was on Ship of Fools…  I couldn’t resist and no one called me on it.  In retrospect I still can’t believe it.  I’ll leave it to the reader to find out which particular book I mean, with the hint that popular literature was just beginning.

March 24, 2017 at 5:17 pm Leave a comment

book of sayings (3)

Book of Sayings (3)

about names and thought*

today there are hurried motions
in no direction, though
that sullen half-silence turns
quickly to rage if even slightly
slowed…

no speech;
the crowd grumbles and snarls
wordlessly; it does not name

but without names it cannot speak
nor therefore think. has
it somehow cast me out?

i wonder for a moment.
then i realize again
my namelessness
________________________________________________
*or, when i learned to speak
i forgot all truth

January 27, 2017 at 9:23 pm Leave a comment

An Ode To Our Leader

An Ode To Our Leader

 

There was no stopping

Time, nor place nor mapped way;

we  just voyaged unpausing

to our GOAL which

 

as we voyaged, we found

was mostly what it was*

–a word, and vague fancies.

 

…Freedom is barely valued

until it’s lost

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*our goal, i should say,

which simply receded

infinitely.

his goal was to rule us

and easily succeeded.

most of us simply wanted CHANGE;

that goal we’ve certainly achieved!

We have a Leader now

Long Live The Leader And The Party!

________________________________________________________________

I wasn’t going to make any comments, I’ll make one.  The entire resemblance of this to certain manifestoes is quite unplanned, of course.  That would require sarcasm, which I barely know how to recognize let alone use.  I am proud of knowing the word, though.

January 2, 2017 at 7:12 pm Leave a comment

(Apollo’s) sister

sister

stripped trees reflected in water;
i turn away, quickly, fearing Apollo’s wrath.

 

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I’d imagine the legend should be identifiable.  Watch it, you might be turned into a deer!

November 24, 2016 at 11:46 pm Leave a comment

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