POEM:    “Oasis”

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"Oasis"




warm water streaming over strained muscles  taut with the tension of
 a thousand

   stir-crazed hours of intrusive solitude within a small space yet

     none purely owned by me excepting this waterproof box

           where for five too short minutes

                steam tingles wet skin

voice reverberates

                Beatles and Aretha

                          bounces against panels

                          of thin

      acrylic as

                    peppermint

         suds wash my

worries

       down the

drain

                alongside

            white

soapy

                 bubbles...  .. .   .

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Thank you for visiting my blog! I’ve been wanting a break from all the depressing news lately, so I thought I’d share this poem as (hopefully) a little break for you too: an oasis in this shared storm we’re all weathering. 

Wherever you are, stay safe, stay well, and read often!

*Image courtesy of www.publicdomainpictures.net via Creative Commons License.

POEM: “Orpheus the Coward”

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Orpheus the Coward

 

I did not kill myself for love.

I didn’t tear apart my broken heart,

show its bloody pieces to the world

 

unless you count my music.

In that I laid myself bare,

my grief as exposed as an infant

left on a lonely hill

for beasts to feast upon.

 

I did not kill myself for love.

I didn’t choose to die,

to trap us both in that deep darkness,

breathe the earth above our heads

as we quake in Hades’s rich domain,

both doomed to finally drink

from that fatal river that makes us forget

each other.

 

I did not kill myself for love.

I chose to run to hell

to bring my love to life,

to calm the viscous demon-dog’s rage,

to bring salt tears to the icy cheeks

of Hades and his Queen,

to rescue my wife of a single day,

to bring her back to that same day’s sun.

 

I did not kill myself for love.

I chose to lead her back

from those cold depths,

feel her silent steps

behind me but never look to see.

The price of her freedom

my uncertainty.

 

But the Fates are bitches

that toy with human lives:

my feet touched earth,

yet still I looked back too soon.

She remained in darkness.

I lost her at the border

between life and death,

dark and light, fear and hope.

Her fading farewell,

as translucent as the hand

I reached for

but could not grab.

 

No second charm would work

on Hell’s cold denizens.

 

I did not kill myself for love.

I sat and thought and tried

to find a way through the fog

of my brain to win her back again.

None came, but as I struggled

to compose my next hopeless plan,

alone with my lyre,

just me and my pain,

I was torn apart,

my body as broken as my heart.

 

I did not kill myself for love,

but I was not sorry to go.

 

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Thank you for visiting my blog! The above poem was inspired by the Speech of Phaedrus in Plato’s Symposium in which Orpheus was dubbed a coward because he did not die for love like a more traditional hero. 

Wherever you are, stay safe, stay well, and read often!

 

*Image courtesy of www.publicdomainpictures.net via Creative Commons License.

POEM: “An Apology to My Reader”

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An Apology to My Reader

 

Let me first say

an apology is not warranted

 

although I am sorry

you didn’t like my work,

I am sorry my words offend

or cause you pain, open wide

that hole in your heart

–yet isn’t that a part

of art’s ultimate calling?

–to make us feel something,

not always some things

we want but to unearth

what’s buried deep inside. It’s

the horror of the disgorged grave

as well as the exhilaration

of a ballerina’s pirouette,

the dispepsia of an undigested

bit of tainted beef versus

the ecstacy of a lover’s embrace,

the shoulders shrugged against

the enigma of an ignorant world

and the melancholic mind’s eye

turned inward despite willing

ourselves blind, so while

I wish you every happiness,

I also admit I want praise,

adulation even as I question

why anyone would spend

their hard earned cash, tender

payment to buy a book of mine.

 

I am sorry you are unhappy

with my words, with time

I tendered writing, recording,

with the hours, days, weeks

of creating stories, drawing imagery,

imagining metaphors, birthing similes,

reworking prose and poetries, so although

 

an apology is not warranted,

I will extend you this one exception:

 

I’m sorry, but I don’t give refunds.

 

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Thank you for visiting my blog! I hope you enjoyed that little bit of snarky humor. I actually do have some more pandemic-themed poems, but I wanted to do something different this week. This particular poem was inspired by a prompt from Cuyahoga County Public Library’s Read + Write: 30 Days of Poetry. Wherever you are, stay safe, stay well, and read often!

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*Image courtesy of www.publicdomainpictures.net via Creative Commons License.