Johns Poems
Johns Poems
johnpouc
New Poems
A Winter Painting
Snaps of ice cracking in air. Eyes
silent, hypnotized
by stone waves upon the water.
My hand paints far from the cold that
fly’s ‘oer the pulpy brine. Still
onto frozen fingers, north winds
deposits bits of memory, frost covered crops
dying slow deaths, stretch agonizingly
for a glimpse of the sun.
Startled and quivering they call out
across the high white of my canvas.
While I seek escape from the
cold work of living, others express
surprise over the sudden
Artic winds that crack down
from Canada.
The snow gleams like sand and
from here, I cannot tell if it
is real or just another
winter painting.
Mama's Dress
Tight grip of small
fingers grasping
at Mama’s dress,
pulling, following
everywhere, little eyes
looking up, whimpering,
filled with pleading
to be picked up.
Mama never stopped moving
or looked down except
to say,
“hush child.”
So long ago were
those tugs on
her dress, hanging on
for dear life as she
moved about the kitchen,
flitting here and there,
pots clanging pots,
blue flames of fire
top the stove causing
aromas to boil over
into the air and drift
down to where I
clung to her dress, my
eyes filled with tears and
begging attention.
Tight grip of
small fingers
now upon my
pant leg as my
grandchild pulls
at me, whimpering.
“ Hush child” I say as
I reach down and
pick him up.
The whimpering stops,
the pinch of my
pant slowly
returns to normal.
On days like these
I cannot bare to
think of Mama,
less my whimpering
begins again.
WarmWine
We stopped beside a hickory tree
that spilled all around us.
It was lumpy and sprays of
deep green twigs tickled our noses.
It forced you to lean onto its
knurled and bumpy bark.
We sipped warm wine
and talked with bold voice and
we were more than just
a little intoxicated.
“I’d like to go to Paris” you said,
“with you someday before
we become too old.”
I never spoke, instead
we sat silently watching an airplane’s
vapor trail in the sky through
the deep green twigs while its
magnificent tail grew longer
and longer until it
quite unexpectedly
came undone and
sprays of white vapor
gently floated off
into a hundred directions..
We sighed deeply and
poured more warm wine.
Involution
Embracing life I stumble into near oblivion, rolling
inwardly, not proceeding wisely, curled like a
sleeping cat. Always
is the ever present danger that life demands of the living,
implicating each of their own misdirection or fragility.
The parts within, secretly hidden or proudly proclaimed,
have perfectly threaded taut life’s lessons and left the realm
of uncertainty to the involution of a greater power.
New for 2008.....
Involution by JohnMalcolm
Johns Poems
johnpouc
