I wrote these for the October meeting of my local poetry society. I set a goal to write four sonnets. Two short poems showed up along the way. I hope to read these aloud at the library on October 2nd.
John Keats had fears that he might cease to be
Before his pen emptied his teeming brain.
Ebony, Ivory, Night, Day, Death, Life remain
In Dante’s poetic eternity.
Bobby Burns’ rhymes sung. Simple sonnets forth-see
Old horses, hen’s eggs. Trumpeters refrain
Circe’s mantle, Calypso’s tearful pain.
Shakespeare set his sweetheart summer-day free.
A hunting bird grabbed Hopkins’ hiding heart;
And wrung gold-vermillion embers from it.
Coleridge preferred to sail death’s Win’try bark.
His wide world view would scarce fourteen lines fit.
Romantics used apostrophetic abbrev’ation
Sharing nature’s awesome celebration.
Bright Souls Awake
The bright souls, they say, are coming coming
The correction come is their big anew
That sees the future in the past’s review;
Presented in tissue. The thinest wrapping,
Mitered corners, smooth, no tape showing;
Is monofilament time’s one-way rule
Cradling crystal present’s priceless jewel.
The apocalypse is now. No waiting.
Eleven string dimensions vibrating.
Elementary chron-puscles exploding!
Do not wait for knights in armor shining
Come beautiful bright souls waiting.
With timeless light bathe this reality
Shine now! Now is not soon enough for me!
Someone abandoned their red Jeep Cherokee
on Myrtle Beach. As Dorian’s surge drove the sea,
they chose to walk away from danger’s reach.
Isn’t it bizarre how many people anthropomorphize a car
as if left to die yet objectify people who were?
I wonder why. I may write a poem about this mystery.
First, I’ll walk Now’s thundering beach
‘Tween sandy Past when I conceived my poem
and the foamy Future when it says its done.
Poem 1. Recall the 0th Law of Poem Dynamics;
Eschew pedantic semantics.
The Red Jeep might be Poem 3, we’ll see;
maybe if the powerful waves don’t float it out to sea
as if it had a notion to sail the Atlantic Ocean.
Merritt Island, August 1966
Something grunted in the palmetto mound
Bull frog or ‘gator? neither threatening
The Banana River’s rhythmic lapping
Music made from the buzzing background sound.
White cattle egret aimed it’s spear-face down
Wing shadows deglared its noon-time fishing
For Gambusia minnows larvae-feeding.
Horseshoe crabs like Trilobites abound.
Moist fragrant air’s a quilt of warmth surround
Insectivores, pescavores, herbivores
Sunlight-powered molecules recycling,
Eaters are eaten around each go-round.
Threading the liminal shoreline I walked
Safe now, but by an unknown future stalked.
the once solid manly man broke
into a million bits at the edge of
consciousness filling his disembodied
aura over-full with unfocused images
fashioning a feeling that he’s floating
somewhere or more freely nowhere
Siri’s simple stand
Kale, squash, carrots, beets, cabbage
Honor Local Roots