constructions – chapter 1(a)

constructions1

poem new year

 

winter appear palely, there is suggestion of

of feathery powders

 

winds roughs the trees strips the virtual air ..

the bend of the creek cradles blocks of ice

 

what lies before us are the trails thru

the shifting brambles, the graceful bones of grass,

the crags in the symbolic hills & the narrows of

bridges & ladders under a skyward lazy eye

 

the measures of this day are obscured by long thin sweeps

of clouds, great extensions

 

these are agents of a reborn year

heading for earth

 

to(wards)

 

            to get across town in twenty minutes is to move on against the grain of the traffic(s) .. it is the last day remaining of february, there are crystals in the roads .. when i do appear, i have a key to her house, releasing the door .. we warmly will meet .. she does have the quality of a thinking animal .. i am too that paradoxic .. we together will make harmonic plans .. later defiant not skeptical, on a crisp road to the reservoir, we shall be walking up on the horizon ..

  

sun(s)

 

what is your child made of(?)

.. is it from such a radiance

the sum of your smiles as

when the two you smile(?)

 

the sun will go a long way to you

it will slide down the sides

of the sky for you             and

across a plan of the earth to you

into your narrow room ..

the sun, itself a soul,

reveals that soul to the visionary

(to the) 1970 graduate

 

i know your fear ..

not in this ceremony

but in the times that will follow

 

all i can give is my faith &

my hands soft leather

to applaud you

 

i know you do not believe

in the power of your choices

yet you have well created me

 

so here is my life, use it

draw upon it for asset

for the times that will follow

 

city black out

 

its neon city face has retreated

and from that energetic face

its metallic communications

have ceased for now ..

 

the city is reduced to charcoals

while we huddle in the caves of our homes

around a scant flare of some sort of fire

and we wonder on & about ourselves

 

thirtieth time

 

could it not be other than splashing smiles

and cymbals for now the thirtieth time(?)

 

we can not tell about how you will feel or

we know not upon what this might mean

but these are mysteries worth exploring

on this the annual visit, a marker in the story

of your journey thru the calendar of existence

modern

 

walking:

scale, character & significance are imposed ..

 

this particular place the avenue escapes north to infinity

so we cannot know the ancient ethers it leaps beyond to

but to the south

here is an end

at a new station

red red & yellow ..

a most concrete

post modern end

 

jillian

 

i have recollected her name

the impression she makes ..

what animates her

and her way of being

 

even i know now ..

she is present somewhere

in a field of timelessness

intoxicating on a moment

miss lee

 

.. still she comes to mind

as once she was years ago

in the sierras near truckee

when she was flaxen & new

and again peering the firs,

cirrus cirri & savage flowers

in ever the cold summery

morning(s) ..

linda

 

linda is in a state of kansas but she used to be here ..

somewhere in a vault is a moment that is constructed of her ..

tall as trees & as spare, all arms legs with boyish face

anne marie

 

her face is much complex

as consequence of emotional surety

 

it is the summer of her years

the spring season is spent

 

observe her brow was pale now but it has intricated    and

her voice has enriched with the refinement of her thoughts

.. this all while she deepens within to her life

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CHECK THIS OUT >>> two audio readings of these poems: