Poem Hunter: Poems - Poets - Poetry

Snow fell in the night.
At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish
mounded softness where
the Honda was. Cat fed and coffee made,
I broomed snow off the car
and drove to the Kearsarge Mini-Mart
before Amy opened
to yank my Globe out of the bundle.
Back, I set my cup of coffee
beside Jane, still half-asleep,
murmuring stuporous
thanks in the aquamarine morning.
Then I sat in my blue chair
with blueberry bagels and strong
black coffee reading news,
the obits, the comics, and the sports.
Carrying my cup twenty feet,
I sat myself at the desk
for this day's lifelong
engagement with the one task and desire.
...

it lay in my palm soft and trembled
as a new bird and i thought about
authority and how it always insisted
on itself, how it was master
of the man, how it measured him, never
was ignored or denied, and how it promised
there would be sweetness if it was obeyed
just like the saints do, like the angels
and i opened the window and held out my
uncupped hand; i swear to god

...

Taste my sword - a lightning bolt,
To divinity's way, a blessing jolt.
Is it the deed?
That my companions dreamed.
I call, 'Oh Ashtar' to bring my cup,
To pour the tea with no biscuit brought up.
And I cut off the chest of that scoundrel,
Placing his heart beside my table's candle.
With every sip, I take a bite,
Relieving my dead soldier's heart with light.
...

What is the central passion
of a life?
To please mummy & daddy?
To find a home for their furniture?
To found a family of one's own,
possibly a dynasty?
To fill the world with more books
that have no readers
or books that have too many
& kill
too many trees?

What is the passion
that drives us
as the wind drives
a winged seed?
To reproduce ourselves,
then die?
To meet God once
if only in a dream?
To reach enlightenment
through pain
or pleasure?

Or perhaps just
to question
as I am doing now,
& to teach by questioning. . .

Yes- this is both passion

...

The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set -
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.

...

In the quiet depths of night,
Your laughter dances like stars,
Whispers echo, warmth ignites,
Time bends softly in our grasp.

Eyes entwined, a sacred flame,
In every heartbeat, I am home,
Together, bound by fate's sweet chain,
Love, my life, in you I roam.
...

(after the spanish)


forgive me if i laugh
you are so sure of love
you are so young
and i too old to learn of love.

the rain exploding
in the air is love
the grass excreting her
green wax is love
and stones remembering
past steps is love,
but you. you are too young
for love
and i too old.

once. what does it matter
when or who, i knew
of love.
i fixed my body
under his and went
to sleep in love
all trace of me
was wiped away

forgive me if i smile
young heiress of a naked dream
you are so young

...

In life
one is always
balancing

like we juggle our mothers
against our fathers

or one teacher
against another
(only to balance our grade average)

...

You look like the star Sirius,
Leading to my attachment serious.
You are a beauty by the outside,
Question unasked of the inside.
The hair of yours I want to adore,
The nose I want to touch without rapture,
Your feelings I want to capture,
You as my partner I want to feature,
The idealization I want out of my nature.
...