December 2012 Selected Poems #'s 1 & 2

leaves fall

the river reappears

there all the time

              --Patrick Mizelle

Example Case

Regret without wishing it otherwise, here’s an example.

Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that you’re involved in the break-up, and

Let’s say that you determine that driving into the rice lands due West,

Even though the sun is below the Coast Range, is a good idea.

And so you do, and it is, and soon you’re strolling about on an irrigation road,

Alone except for hundreds of water fowl and their distant calls that

Stretch to the color of the sky, that in this bless-my-soul clear day, now

Hums an avocado hue, swear to god, and - of course -

Reflects in the flooded fields, in places the water and sky light nearly touching, equally bright.

And the moon is up and the birds are on wing,

And your heart is brimming – another field flooded with light.

So let’s say this is happening and you realize that the person you must leave,

First showed you that we all

Live in one vast heartland of the World - our native home.

The feeling that you might be having right then,

Might be an example of regret without wishing it otherwise.

I’ve learned from science instruction it’s best to provide an example case.

--Chris Gaffney

December 2012 Selected Poem #3

                                    Sleeping Under a Desk with Dog

In my mind’s eye, this night is the brightest
of the month; the full moon reflects the sun
and silvery shadow would normally calm the
quiet wood, allowing me to voyeur the nocturnal
happenings of animals normally only heard,
unseen; bear, coyote, owl.

In my mind’s eye, I hear the calm moon
light the sky in the night’s quiet.

Tonight, the moon is a tertiary
influence to the tumult around. We can see
nothing - nothing but the protected candlelight -
candlelight that penetrates the forest about
as well as the full moon.

Mother Nature trumps herself; we hear the
tumult of wind, the cracking of trees, windows
battered by lateral rain. Sandy blots out stars,
moon, creates her own night, her own nightmare
-- suggesting destruction with loud crashes barely
penetrating past the wind’s voice.

Sandy, Sandy, insists on upstaging coyotes and
owls. In the dark of her night, she rearranges
trees, stripping the fall of color, felling transformers
relegating us to days of darkness,
of imagination. It would be easy to give in to small
girl’s fears - dead branches against dark window.

The moon beyond watches in passive silence. It
is only by faith that I know it’s there.

In the clearing day, when gray gives way to color,
and wind has claimed its victim trees, we walk
inspecting her work. She has kindly felled a 2’
diameter tree, laying it precisely parallel to the
drive; a fresh cache of firewood for the coming
winter. A car hood from an unknown car
stands as tombstone.

--Stacey Knapp

December 2012 Selected Poems #'s 4 & 5

Imprint of leaf on concrete

Sun struggling

to break thru cumulus cover

Corner

Bus stop

Clown on wheelchair

in bright orange kung fu gloves

talks to someone funny

on his Bluetooth ear phone:

actually talking to self;

all in his head

ALL is in his head

Two deaf Asian girls;

beautiful;

of ill repute?

Clown and I give them bad directions

Clearly in hope they find themselves

lost in our arms

On the bus

I take my hat off hoping

to impress them with my full mane

but all they see is my bad haircut

The radiator burns a hole in my calf

--Richard Velez

    4:30 AM

4:30 AM
Rumbles through my head again
Tick-tock
It seems it goes on forever
There I go again exaggerating
Forever is a very long time
And eventually the end comes
I know what was on that train
Dreams and whispers and bullets and trash
Each morning at the same time
The whistle blows
4:30 AM
Here comes that train again

         

        --Larissa