Heat (5-30-07)

The hot, still air stifles all conversation,
Save the droning ad for winter outfits—
Odd to think about snow boots and parkas
When the sun beats down, melting the farm house.

Shimmers of molten air invade the shadows
Missed by the sun’s blinding will.
Grandpa sleeps, propped up in his chair,
The cat purring weakly, its fur matted and scorching.

I can take the stillness, the burning silence,
The creeping, sweating boredom, no longer.
Nothing shifts when I rise from my sticky chair,
Except the cat which glares at me with glinting suns.

No breeze will touch this farm today, but I stand
And gaze at the cows dancing in the heat.
My shirt pastes to my back…some fires are hotter…
And I thank God for the hope of salvation.

Who Wants to Write

I can write with smooth,
Flowing verse that tickles
Your nose like the snow of
A dandelion's mane.
It can dance, spin,
Pull you into its swirl
Of sounds.
You drown,
Gasping, grasping
At the click of the mouse,
The hum of the fan,
In that cheap hotel room.
The sweat smears into your eyes,
Mixing with the tears
And the words.

But I don't want to.
How formless and reliant on
Exaggerations and
Kings of poetical serpents?

Welch's and Kroger's

We are buckets...
With holes.
We are faucets...
Dripping drops.
We are dams...
Of half the stream.

And now I sit me down to dine
With too small, simple wooden cup.
My cup runneth over--staining red my hands.
And when the brim is purpled dark,
I grasp the stem to quench my desert thirst.

What wicked fingers must be these
To burn five holes through rough-grained wood.
These thorns of flesh unleash the rush,
And soon the goblet's desert dry

And thus my soul's cup empties fast;
Redeemed, refilled, from meal to meal,
on cups of Welch's savior's blood
and broken Kroger's savior's flesh.

Past Parting, Mark II

Verse 1
You left today with five farewells;
I gladly matched embrace with hug.
No smile there, your face just fell,
And asking why brought but a shrug.

And in my sprint I chased your tears,
Those drops of sorrow, tainted dark,
Condensed of bitter loss and fears
Of pining for and yearning stark.

Chorus
Ah… what times we had!
Would that this sweet elegiac song
Might sweep us back around that bend,
To when our parting made us strong.

Verse 2
I know, my love, that what I write
Is striking something deep inside.
My one request is that you fight
To loose the vines that have you tied.

Resist that rising flood of grief
And turn it back, prevent a spill.
You can win for yourself relief
By calling on your strength of will.

Chorus
Chorus

Bridge

Verse 3
I will not stand aside and watch
You struggle with this liquid foe.
From range I will this arrow notch,
Loosed lethally at your sorrow.

Coda
Ah, what times ahead!
When this sweet elegiac song
Does sweep us back around that bend,
Our parting once again made strong.