Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Two poems

Just two poems written on break today.

#1

"My god!" he said, and words
I did not know,
face stained with longing,
skin-toned skin blemished
with failed dreams

and we stood out by the ocean
looking for nothing, his tears
adding a few drops -- less
ripples than a pebble

and I said the worn stones must
believe in spite of evidence
they would not erode away

"The tide comes in. Always,"
he said, rough, almost harsh
(so much depends on almost)

I imagine, I said, the stones hope
it won't come tomorrow --
few things are certain
beside sunsets being beautiful

and we waited watching the tide
transform the beach, washing away,
and he almost smiled.

"Maybe tomorrow," to the tide,
the ocean, the stars, me,
and you.


#2.

I held the poem for
an hour, supper
calling, feeling
it die to potatoes
& gravy & a mash of stuff.

The few that remain
(barely a turn of phrase)
surrender to desert
never to be known.

Stomach growls, sated;
heartburn later coming
from sorrow, soothed
by late night snacks.

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