Posts for June 16, 2016

I waited for you to return from work, to see how I arranged them, how carefully, on everything in the room, even the carpet, but not the bed. Knowing how I feel for you, that I waited for this moment, how could you reject my offering? I’ve been counting the petals as I strip them, one by soft one, from the long, supple stems. Stripped. Soft. Supple. Sigh. Looking at you, I’ve lost count. No going back. When I’ve finished, I’ll close your eyes before I roll you in the thorns. 

(from notes I made on a news item several years ago)

The next morning she rose early and set out
walking the road towards Ashby under a leaden
sky with a narrowing streak of yellow
like a departing hope on the edge of the horizon.

It had not yet occurred to her that she might get money
for locket and earrings, and she applied all her small
knowledge calculating how many meals and rides were contained
in two guineas and the odd shillings, which had a melancholy
look of pale ashes to the other bright-flaming coins.

Found poetry adapted from a passage in Chapter XXXVI of Adam Bede, by George Eliot.

Somehow I knew exactly what to expect
Stepping up into lands I don’t quite belong
If familiar we might have shared a slight smile
Small spark of a more supple warmth
Followed by a trade of hellos 
And “How are you?”s

From my place in the back row shadow
I work on my nerves as you drift on by
If familiar you might have let your fingers
Surf the space between my shoulder blades
I might have caught your fleeting hand
In a lingering touch.

 You saved my life once but you’ll never know
Caught me in random light and lifted my soul
If familiar, it’s a story I would gladly share
Let you in on a piece of my joy
Except to open that particular door
Might expose your dark side

Priceless to me, I need to keep you pure
So I elect to keep my precious silence
And walk away from you again
To preserve us as we are
To try to make you anything more to me
Would destroy
The sanctity of you.

The Force of Gravity as a Distortion
of Space-Time—Inspired by All Things Considered

                                      “It’s like a Jell-O that we all swim in,”
                                                             –          Gabriela González

The gravitational pull of very, very massive things can
cause it to bend and shake.  When that happens,
the distances   between     objectswill              begin
to shift.
               “It will get longer and shorter and longer and
shorter
without us doing anything,
without us
feeling anything,”
                                 González says,

              but I am drawn in awkward shapes
              of disagreement.  I am not content
              with such declarations; Researchers can
              say whatever they like.  It is not enough
              to eradicate any and all responsibility
              when we know we are derivatives
              of stars, of celestial substance,
              broken fragments tapping
              windows of another’s
              heart with rocks
              and branches
              of time.

              I do feel–and anything is
              everything, everyone
              choosing anyone,
              when I choose
              only you.

              then
              now
              again

              & al-

             
             ways

             you

I’m tryin not to forget you
But,
My memory sucks
And the drugs don’t help.
I think of all those times
your hair hung long,
It was cold outside
And you didn’t want to be by yourself.
The breath you needed,
The puzzle we completed
And your heart,
The way it beated was just for me.

And now,
It’s funny.
I’m the one struggling to breathe.

wheelchairs lined  up

like infantry in front of

the nursing home

young men smoking in the sun

this can’t be their last battle

Order from chaos
natures golden rule, beauty 
asymmetrical

Vibrations, humming 
amber liquid, viscous gold
the queens apprentice

                                             Cocktail Party

Blocks of ice from a glacier breaking off
blinking into one
then another
each connection–a click like a biliard ball
a momentary settling, rocking
then looking around, moving to the next.
Floating on top of the water
moved by an underlying force
outside conscious control.

Poem 16, June 16  

Chester Johnson, Poem Eight    

Say the kids are good.
And Joyce?
I’d like to see her.  

Say you were here
three times
and couldn’t wake me.  

Other people say
they’ve come and knocked
on my storm door.  

I sleep sound in this chair.
I can’t hear good.
I have to turn the tv up loud.  

I’ll tell you what you do.
Next time that happens
there’s a string out there.  

See that bell up there.
It’s from the USS Lexington.
You pull that string and I’ll hear it.  

It brings back the past when it chimes.
My memory is full of youth,
full of shock waves in the sea

when we fired the big guns.
I say we not I or me.
In battle we were one.

Of course
you can take a picture
of it.    

1)     Conversation

2)       Quantum Physics

3)     Some Basic Facts

a)      The rules don’t apply to those who make them
b)     No one writes a test they cannot pass
c)      L. Ron Hubbard could never be wrong about Scientology
d)     People like this run our lives   

4)     A Brief History of War