21 posts tagged “poem”

Stilt

Stilt...walker stalks out the party,
says to hizself, "Got my own way to get high.
These hand-carved, hundred-year-old stilts are
my way to fly."

Hardened cop, thirty years on the force,
sighs,
"Have to do this the hard way, then."
He starts combining ingredients,
reading from a page entitled,
"Mama's Homemade Doughnuts"

I made a friend today,
and not out of computer chips and clay.
I made my friend the hard way,
opening my mouth to say,
"Hi! My middle name is Vulnerable!"

I became a person of faith today,
not by doubting everything I see,
but by believing in the invisible things
all around me.

Stilt...walker has his stilts,
cop has real doughnuts,
I have my faith and my friend.
Love is so dangerous
that few risk it anymore.

Broken bird, broken wing
Singer, cannot sing
Driver, driver, got no car
Traveller, 'fraid to go too far

When this rainstorm is over,

When the grey sky clears,

When the sun returns,

When the birds resume their songs,

When the wind is gentle,

When the river keeps its banks

When squirrels play in the treetops,

When the shingles have been replaced,

When broken branches are cleared away,

Then . . .

Then I will be stronger,

Made wiser by the storm.

Although it'll still take a bit of time for my wet clothes to dry out.

"I'll give you some sting to cry about!" yells the Hurly Burly Man as he hurls burs at a teething baby.
It's a mean thing to do, but that's just what the Hurly Burly Man does, he's been doing it for years.
The baby can't do much except grow teeth.
Unluckily, the baby can't grow teeth fast enough to defend itself from the Hurly Burly Man.
Luckily, the baby is bundled up pretty well, no exposed skin.
The burs stick harmlessly to the baby's toque and snowsuit and mittens.

"I hear you're a pote!" yells the Hurly Burly Man as he hurls burs at me. "I'll give you some sting to pome about!"
It's a mean thing to do, but that's just what the Hurly Burly Man does, he's been doing it for years.
I can't do much except write pomes.
Unluckily, I can't write pomes fast enough to defend myself from the Hurly Burly Man.
Luckily, the I'm bundled up pretty well, no exposed skin.
The burs stick harmlessly to the my motifs and metaphors and allusions.

soft grass and
an easy breeze

old stone wall
and a fish-rippling pond

(this is where
we unwind
the watch-springs
of our minds)

Memo to Residents of the Pondview Terrace Apartments

As of June 30th, Old Linden will be retiring from the position of Groundskeeper and Caretaker of this simple apartment complex.  He is leaving to travel to and fro across the globe, pursuing Various Obscure Knowledges.  Those of you who regularly engage Old Linden in conversation will know that the pursuit of Various Obscure Knowledges is his hobby and ruling passion.  

This evening there will be a Send-Off at 6:00 PM in the Communal Activity Area.

Old Linden has been working here since the time of your great-grandparents.  Many of you have childhood memories of playing in the dusty ditches dug by Old Linden.  Old Linden's imminent departure forces us to ask some difficult questions about our very way of life here at the Pondview Terrace Apartments.

Who will kick the confectionery machine when the confections are stuck within?
Who will repaint the DANGER signs?
Who will light the jubilation lanterns?
Who will quiet the hurdy-gurdy man?
Who will prop up the elopement ladder?
Who will tack up the ceilidh posters?
Who will patch the old row boat?
Who will watch the watchmen?
Who will untangle the chimes?
Who will feed the goldfish?
Who will greet the sunrise?
Who will be unobtrusive?
Who will take care?

Who will give a hill of beans around here anymore?

Sometimes I think I've caught glimpses of you,
in a smile, in a prayer, in a song,
in a furtive glance.

I waver almost daily,
wondering if you are really out there,
or if I've really sabotaged myself this time,
never to meet you.

And even if I met you today,
would I be ready,
would I be right
for you?

Listening is difficult
when I just want to fix your problems, fix 'em real good.
What you want is to fill my ears
with your honest self.

You have
both my ears.
Please,
climb in,
make yourself at home.

I'll put coffee into my mouth,
so I won't say too much.