I am taking a break from the novel I started because I don’t have the time to do the historical background research that is definitely needed to flush it all out. With the dissertation and all the summer teaching I need to write something that is purely a creature of my mind. Luckily, I have an idea for that. So with any luck the first chapter of this new novel will be up soon. In the mean time, here are a few poems. I like to write poems in a quick and dirty manner. With all of my scholarly work I have to write and rewrite and poetry for me is a burst of thought that I prefer not to touch up, even though it would probably make them better. Anyway here you go.
The Bickering Blacks and Whites
The leaves had begun to fall
The crisp had come
But was not present on this day
A rebirth of summer
If only for a moment.
I drank bottled beer
On the front stoop
Watching the bickering
Blacks and whites,
At least they all bickered together.
I saw you two blocks away
Without acknowledgment.
When you walked past me
In the door
The same.
You came out
Sat in your chair
Next to mine
Twisted the top off your bottled beer
And began watching the bickering
Blacks and whites.
At least they all bicker together
You said.
Three Drops
I forged three drops of water in my hands
Then allowed them to drop to the Earth
The land succumbed to the water
Waves overran the prairies
Washing themselves over the mountaintops
The fish and water mammals went on,
Business as usual,
The coyotes and foxes grew wings and webbed feet
The bears,
Blow holes,
Giraffes,
Gills.
The humans swam with all their might
The bravery they speak of was in full display
‘Twas a glorious sight for all to see!’
Many perished in the swim
But a few,
A few reached the last bastion of land
A mountain they have named
There
The survivors embraced
Speaking highly of the human spirit
And began making plans
For the extraction of the water
And the return of the land
A Life in Parts
She led her face away from a cringe
For a moment
Clapsing collapsing her hand around my forefinger
I dared in closing
With no thoughts of risk
Lids which had no business not thinking on their own
And she left
Softly (I did not hear)
With her sparkling blues
No longer reflecting
Lips hands curled hairs minds
No longer reflecting mirrored perfection
No longer two molded from one
Away to dusk in October
With grays whites surrounding a kind face
Meant for one last look then
Releasing her hand from around my forefinger
To wherever it may end
In a face without feature
In a life without
Connected to a life still with what
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