Poetry: Unending


Mobius-Strip

INFINITY
Circles, they say, exist with no beginning or end.
They swing around and again, tracing their own pasts.

As does every shape, I think,
Only some hang hard-lefts, or hard-rights, at sharp angles.

Triangles endure whiplash pain.
Squares rush to full-stops, to change direction.

Growing more sides, more corners, with each pass.
With a less-jarring now.

History overwritten by every orbit.
New points, fresh curves, smoothing old hairpins.

Triangles become squares, which swell into circles
Past, present, future, looping in rhythm of elegant curves.

Some say.

 

ETERNITY
(Wrap your arms, parenthetically, around me,
our breathing, for a moment, an aside,
enclosed, a separate thought,
within the pause of us thrumming against the silence,
and your lashes,
oh, the life and death of me, perfect commas of lashes,
splicing,
closing, opening,
extending, delaying,
the end of our sentence, so it runs on, and on, and on.)

 

IMMORTALITY
I’ve spent a lifetime loving poets
who
pine and rejoice
love and wonder
savor and yearn.

One in particular knows
me
through and through.
The poet’s name is Long Forgotten
unlike the words.

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Poem: Not the Groundhog’s Day


 

It’s not the groundhog’s day

I didn’t know they could get that large.
Is it bloated?

With its salt & pepper pelt
Big enough to make a small jacket
Or at least a large vest

Entrails still steaming
In the February air
Fogging the glassy ice

A flattened shadow
Lies beneath him
Pinned to the permafrost
For at least 6 more weeks

Poem: So She Sings


Sarasvati: Hindu goddess of words

 

Snow shafts like ‘shroom stems
Shift slow so sleet stings
Slipshod shaped shadows
Slice straight through sun strings

Slung south since smooth skin
Sail silent sea springs
Side-saddle soldiers
Swing swords so steel stings

Sticks, stones, scabs, sutures
Sewn shut yet sap seeps
Sleep softly, soundly
Sweet song her soul sings

Sweet song her souls sings

Poem: Winner, Winner


Image

Avery glared down at them
From above
In disgust
A bad taste in her mouth
In the candlelight

Eyesight moist
With the damp of the rain
Juicy droplets beading up
On wings
Rolling to her breasts
Over her thighs
And down her legs

From below the awning
They never noticed her there
As they laughed & chewed
Over stringy bits
Of white meat

Ignoring the one
In the dripping branches
Continuing their cheeky chatter
Over cheap wine
And chicken cordon bleu

Poem: Drinking Tails


Ripple rap-tap

         tip the scales

                      tartar sauce

                                     fishy tales

                                             fillet the truth

                                                      of minnows caught

                                                              weighing in

                                                                      on just-missed whales

 

Triple death-trap

              bait intact

                           Orion hunter

                                    seaside act

                                             ferocious beast

                                                      that swam away

                                                               recounting words

                                                                                 of twisted fact

 

Double danger

              on the brink

                         sharpened edge

                                    of thoughts you think

                                              experience

                                                       yet to happen

                                                                   shocking fake

                                                                               distilled in drink

Poem: Strings


His self-defined philanthropy
Marionette gift to me
   with strings
   attached

Not wanting bonds
I gave it up
   like rubber bands
   it snapped right back
   into my hands

Which reached for scissors
Nice and sharp
   to sever off
   the braided ropes

But found them made
Of hardened steel
   too thick
   to snip

Poem: Migh & Highty [for Spooner]


We think we’re so might & highty
tanging the chime
Fing sproward, Ball fack
One hour
yice a twear

Hying our dair
& fifting our laces
Electing sanother
to dighten or larken our skin-
ralter our aces

Stere I hand-
an example
Waying these sords
with paper & pen
Expressing dy mistaste

So might & highty
to offer opinion
athout being wasked
My fersonal peelings-
I wiv them gaway
Nonetheless