iphone poem #1
Sometimes when I’m on the train or in a cafe or whatnot, I’ll feel a need to write a poem. In ye olde days, you’d write these in a small notebook. I use my iphone. Apologies, Luddites:
If this is the last I see of you
love me like
memories of the dead.
Think of me when you fish the ice cubes
out of the drinks I used to mix for us.
Don’t cry when you see my name
or hear the song I sang when
I walked through the horizon.
When you read these words, I will be writing my soliloquies of love.
Read them now, and cry or laugh, or make no noise
but the echo of your heart
while chewing the ice cubes from your drink
and pouring the liquid down the drain.
Poem: A Night Owl Morning
I woke up today too close to noon.
The sound of a window fan
that lulled me to sleep
now roars.
5 floors down in the street
tourists race giddily through the rain
with their freshly purchased umbrellas.
I see no kindreds.
I’ll demonstrate.
I whip on whatever’s clean
and walk into the street
and take 10 steps before I notice the rain.
And then I walk some more,
looking for those following the same choreography.
Those are my family. My long lost brothers and sisters
With whom I reunite, one or two per storm.
Hopefully the soles of their shoes are intact
and they can live out it the storm
a bit longer than I.
A new poem
The days were young and beautiful
Long, coated in the dry, dusty winds from the east.
Children running through hedgerows, hiding from their parents.
The days were young and short,
breathless.
Waves pounding my ribcage, they lift me from my feet I clutch too hard to a seashell.
It cuts my fingers.
The salt water stings the wound, but it is mine.
A small moral victory over the deep blue horizon.
The days were young and beautiful,
even with that first awareness.
When my grandfather’s familiar words rhymes and songs he’d always said, ran for the last time.
In the teal shadow of this hospital room.
How could I have known for the last time.
The sun was still yellow. The sandy eastern wind began to blow.
The days aged now. But the beam of light a spot on the floor was as lovely as the day before.
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
-W.B. Yeats, “When You Are Old”
Sometimes, it’s good to remind ourselves how splendid verses can be.
This song makes me happy. Very.
“A Waltz in Yellow” revised & a couple of new po-ems!
I never liked how I ended this one before, so I revised it. It seems appropriate for late Autumn.
A Waltz in Yellow
A glint of yellow caught my eye
the hem of your dress
the sunlight off the pavement
Left to right
it traversed across my pupils
through my fingers
and dissipated when I touched the ground
Cold and wet,
the air was crisp.
Your footprint on the sidewalk
led me to the grass
where you waltzed
alone
your dress billowing around your legs
high kicks of bliss
and unblinking gazes into the sun.
You danced alone in time
with my breath, visible and rising
my heart trying to keep in time.
Failing as I fell
into the sea of cold grass
and the pillow of your dress.
———————————
Next, some of you might remember my first poem, “Sonnet at Midnight”. Here’s its sequel, set, I dunno, two days later? I felt that story needed a sequel. Here ya go.
Sonnet at Dusk
At dusk her hair will change its shade of red
Her eyes will close to bask in dimming light
She’ll listen in the wind for words he said
in love upon her voice, her song, her sight.
She played for him when love had left him dead
Her song upon the keys caressed his sleep.
In lucid dreams, concertos in his head
Of life and love held him above the deep.
She plays now, with keyboards drawn in the sand
She plucks the shore with seashells and low tide.
He hums along, her fingers in his hand
In time with her, he dances by her side.
The moon comes out, the high tide sets to seething.
To the slow rhythm of angels breathing.
——————-
And here’s another!
Under the vent
I want to be the soul sucked from a book of poetry
read by a kid discovering greatness
as they lay hands on “Frost at Midnight” for the first time.
Today I ran coast to coast
hurdling panhandlers and bewildered freshmen
bright-eyed, hand-in-hand in lust with the dark
some sad in the gloaming, sitting on porch steps
bearing witness to the approaching night.
I was born before the dog days
breathless from the start.
Inhaled too much.
wanted too much from my first moment of awareness
and still I want more, until I see the
slow-dance horizon.
I bled once, when I woke in a dust storm,
my little room providing little shelter
from the east’s howl of regret during those near dog days
that surrounded my birth. Now they’re dry, crackled
drugged on heat and dust on the costal winds.
Back where I was born, where I am today,
they’re still the giddy-love bunch of college kids eating ice cream on the side of the road
making out in the dankness of September
The world in perfection’s lips, nose, and mouth
and it is standing before them
looking into them with eyes
of the passing storm.
Favorite torch songs #4: “The Tracks of My Tears” by Smokey Robinson and The Miracles.
Favorite torch songs #3: “Alone” by Heart.
Favorite torch songs #2: “You Don’t Know Me” by Ray Charles.
I recently listened to a “This American Life” segment about torch songs. What is a torch song, you ask? I’ll let wikipedia define:
“A torch song is a sentimental love song, typically one in which the singer laments an unrequited or lost love, either where one party is oblivious to the existence of the other, where one party has moved on, or where a romantic affair has affected the relationship.”
I loves me some torch songs! Nothing like a good sentimental, over the top ballad.
Favorite Torch Song #1: Crying by Roy Orbison (feat. k.d. lang)
