Crossing a Dawnlit Pond (two poems)

You who do not soar with the majesty of eagles,

Who do not stride the water with the pride of a goose,

Who possess neither the plumage of a swan nor the sleek aggression of a seagull;

You who flutter across the face of the water like a finch at dawn,

You bring light into my soul.

…

One finch pursues another

across early morning water

chasing shrinking personalities of shade

as dawn lifts her eyes to recognize

the brief beauty of your love.

Happy Birthday William!!!

Puck. If we shadows have offended,                                     56

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumber’d here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,                                                60

No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend:

If you pardon, we will mend.

And, as I’m an honest Puck, 64

If we have unearned luck

Now to ’scape the serpent’s tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call:                                                           68

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.

Brief Staging

Is this bargaining,

“If I wait ’til the time is right

will you be my love?  Pure and new, will

you make me young again?”  I laugh

at the absurdity of grief.

4/7/09

All Out

We load my kayak

weights and bench and jack,

to raise cars not spirits,

and my old bike with bar ends

into the 1980 ranger,

off white and beaten,

my uncle drives.

It holds everything

safely

as we leave my

now ex wife’s house

behind.

4/2/09

Dawn Steps

I will walk across the Andes

…as mist breaks to dawn

shouldering a solid, beaten pack

…sufficient to cary me beyond

you, and me, and us

no more.

…

I will stand above the world and on it

…my own feet my firm foundation

my own eyes my only yearning

…my breath my own newborn creation

in, and out, and cold

and clear.

…

I will sit on the sunlit side of morning

…my arms strong and ready to hold

however much dirt I desire

..due a free heart never to be sold

then, again, ever

my own.

Angel Kiss Goodbye

On worn wooden planks

…high above the ground

your eyes’ green held me still

…unpitying as the breeze.

Your lips were far softer

…than the old worn steel

scaffolding pressing against my knees.

And as it rocked,

…you and I barely talked

content to sit above the trees;

You were the one,

…the only heart I’d ever need,

but I decided to leave,

…and I found pain.

I found pain

Seven years of pain

changing by the day

but it remained;

I found pain

but I buried it deep

’til I saw your face

one sunny day.

Walking out of class

…in an office bound by glass

suddenly you stood

…as beautiful as the truth,

And everything I’d built,

…and every lie I told,

crashed around my soul

…forevermore.

I found pain

Seven years of pain

changing by the day

but it remained;

I found pain

but I buried it deep

’til I saw your face

one sunny day.

It took me to the day

…you pushed me against the car

over and again

…as I failed to see

Beneath sparkled bits of light

…in a parking lot at night

your lips simply wanted mine,

And as we kissed

…every moment missed

formed a perfect piece of time;

You were the one,

…the only heart I’d ever need,

But I decided to leave

…and I found pain.

I found pain

Seven years of pain

changing by the day

but it remained;

I found pain

but I buried it deep

’til I saw your face

one sunny day.

It took me to our time

…in our amphitheater alone

you tired of your troubles

…asking me to speak of mine;

My ribs broke binding love,

…you had defined us as friends,

so I talked my heart into a life of pain,

And acting on that stage

…before a concrete stepped hill

you helped me to the arms that carried pain.

You were the one,

…the only heart I’d ever need,

but I agreed with you to leave

…and I found pain;

You were the one,

….the only heart I’d ever need,

but I agreed with you to leave

….and I found pain.

Seven Years Four Months Nine Days

I am not the man that married you,

every cell of him is gone,

five months dead by December

when the lies you bore broke your vows.

.

This new flesh knows disappointment,

frustrated disillusionment,

a heart hollowed out by doubt and

digging under couch cushions,

sneaking stares through wallets

desperate to find the thing it did not know

that source of fear and rage.  You broke

each and every cell of him.  He felt

them, riven by deception, collapse to shards,

and he walked on through pure force

of will unwilling to shatter.

He did not replace or renew with new

flesh.  He only held fast by refusing to fall

away from you.  Now that he is dead,

I live.

.

.

3/23/09

Redder Apples

When she bought that dress with the large apple print,

Was the sun shining?

Was the sky blue?

Did her son stand beside her eying candy at the next stall?

Did her daughter drop a doll that Mom picked from the dirt drawing her sight to the bright red shining apple surrounded by leaves and white Arabic script?

Were they with her the next day

When she wore it?

Did they tell her she was beautiful

In the plaza

Before the bomb exploded?

.

.

…

B&W picture in the local paper, Iraqi woman on a gurney after a car bomb blast, thought she was a soldier in camoflage until I recognized the apple. 3/27/09

One Second Hand

Your body does not discuss time

nor love nor momentary hope.

Your body only binds flesh

to a soul unable to strike

towards light only ever too distant.

Still, your body stands and can see,

even through to its soul,

light that is the birth of love.

 

Sparked by a line, ”Dying and personality change will trouble one’s walk through life,” in ”Change” essay, Courtney P. Fall ’08

Older than my parents…

Just came across my birth certificate.  When I was born, my mother was 27 and my dad was 29.  Mom would turn 28 in under a month and Dad 30 in about two.  I will turn 30 in less than two months.  I am older than my parents.