sometimes I wonder (revisited)
Sometimes I wonderif she ever existed.
—found poem
Sometimes I wonder
if she ever existed.
Only a smile now
a gesture
copper hair flashing
she fades even in dreams
artist in the supermarket
She stands in the aisle like reverse Stendhal:frozen, her hand extended over the mound of apples.
Apples push into her like the fists of a lover
knocking at a locked door, urgent, juicy, plump.
It's always like this: fruit overwhelms, vegetables
scream longing; fresh trout imagines a sizzling grill,
beef lounges in a marinade, ready to sear.
She wants to paint, to cook, to knead warm
transit
Night. City street after rain.Early autumn leaves cling to the pavement
like wet hair on a waiting face.
Amber and blue incandescence
lies in pools for walking entrances,
performances and exits,
as the occasional soloist mimes
man walking alone on the street
concert
engine idle just beyond theancient boathouse
river calm and waiting silent
to the weed beds
and the spaces vast, beyond
ease the throttle slowly forward
hear the engine twist
inside the music
The part I sing in our quartethovers above or below the melody;
often it sounds like the French horn.
The Lead's note sounds familiar;
the Bass is the solid foundation;
the Tenor lilts above all, thrillingly;
my part, the Bari, fills it all in.
cocoon
Inside the silk threadsis what will come:
beautiful wings,
gleaming reds, yellows, blues,
curves and strength,
the freedom of flight
instead of plodding,
gnawing eating.
lotus eaters
This is the first in a series I started a while back. I should write a few more on this . . .everyone on the street was
somewhere else
listening to music
words from another time
another place
after
She used to purr when she leaped onto the bed;I prefer to think of her arrivals.
I could read her expressions through the fur:
glad to see me (and usually was):
relaxed eyelids, fur sleek off the face;
impatient with my stupidity:
Mauve and Gold
If a god were eating strawberriesWhen that sunset happened,
I know he'd stop in mid-bite
With red sweet juice dribbling
Down his chin onto his toga
And just stare and do a god-thing:
driving home
The sun set just before we turned west onto the roadthat curved into the pure black landscape silhouetted
against the absolutely clear tangerine and indigo sky.
As our headlights revealed and dismissed the familiar
meanderings of this riverside route and its clusters of cottages
On being mistaken for myself
Photos never lieexcept when they must,
with a minimum of mendacity,
tell welting whoppers
about how egregiously old
the old codger has become.
I have studied photos
taken years ago
that make me look
what was left
First they took away the all moneypoured it into the government trough
and they fed the war in Afganistan
but still that wasn't enough
so they crucified the artists
and they stood around and laughed
Backstage
[I wrote this piece to read at the seventieth birthday party of Gilles Lacelle, a very good friend of mine. There are allusions here that are specific to the situation.]
Backstage
Usually there would be two of us,
Gilles and I, lifting, fitting and cutting,
planning and discussing and finally
his favorite part, painting.
I’d be painting too, but I’d watch him:
other people would see the finished
set, but I would see his hands at work. (more…)
New Podcast: “sometimes I wonder” by riverwriter
I have just recorded and posted my reading of “sometimes i wonder”, a poem I posted in wordcurrents in April 2008, then revisited with an altered version in October 2009.
The reading starts with a brief commentary upon the fact that I based the work on a “found poem”.
The podcast runs 1 minute, 52 seconds. It was recorded in mp3 format stereo, with some sound attenuation for background noise (furnace, passing traffic).
The poem is featured as the first item in the slide display on the main page (as of this post).
It is currently the listing at the bottom of the page on the podcast menu.
Here is a direct link to the podcast of my reading of “sometimes I wonder”
Progress report 1
To my faithful readers:
This business of not posting every day has its downside. I have this feeling of anxiety hanging around me, as if I had chopped up mushrooms and onions, went to answer the phone, and discovered myself in a long conversation with someone I could not escape but did not wish to speak to. In other words, let’s get the steak on the grill!
On the progress front, I have established the provisional title, chapter set up and (more…)
clicking on the play button starts the sound. You may adjust the volume by the sound control to the left. You may access a complete list of podcasts here. I shall add to this list as I add podcasts. I have recently improved my recording equipment; as a result the sound quality will improve. If you have any requests, please comment below the podcast list.
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