I
Really liked
Summer when
I found it between the strides
Of new growth
And the day the redgoldamber
Lept out from a
Chlorophyll-induced slumber.
NAPOWRIMO 2013 day 8
Found 2
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Monthly Archives: April 2013
shadows of a moment
it is where
you look past
the moment,
and her form is
outlined against the wall,
larger than living,
but devoid of the details,
color and shade
integrated with vectors
that are her creations,
and hers alone.
***************
NaPoWriMo 2013 Day 7
doppler collusion
speak the sound,
then it resonates back
in waves that traverse time,
sometimes delayed.
When I was a child,
I used a tape
recorder to
compose sounds
and mimic noises and
imitate voices from what I heard.
Then played them back.
They were old,
voices
from movies and
TV shows, trustworthy sounds
to my ear, both as I spoke them and
as they were played back to
me from the tape.
sometimes
Stan Laurel wouldn’t
come out the way I heard him
when I spoke,
and I realize now,
I was only six.
***********************
NaPoWriMo 2013, Day 6
Spitzer
I’ve seen how the wind
blows left and right
over fields expanding as a universe
pushing tall grass aside
as a giant breath.
And heard the whistle of a thrown ball
a distance of sixty feet.
Yet cannot fathom the sight
of a star hurtling through
space millions of miles
pushing the dust of
of its forebears aside.
And from my vantage point
there is no sound.
with a silence that fills
the void. And the path of its past
trailing without a whisper.
NAPOWRIMO 2013 day 5
Beyond
Would that I could speak
beyond the gardens,
a language like bees;
a buzzing that lingers
among yellow flowers.
Sighing
over petals and stoma
and soaking
in a transpired grace,
-workmanlike-
thanking each place
for its guidance
with an innermost declaration.
into Z
them that go that way
straight-away yonder
while those that go this way
decline from their endpoint
there-to-here backtracking,
screeching the turnabout
outlined continuance
raising the pencil
-gestalt admiration.
***************
NaPoWriMo 2013 Day 2
where bugs go
flying ones,
zip in clipped arcs.
chasing each other
on the humid air,
they form a ragged sphere
rolling in space,
parting and coalescing
around interlopers.
while grounded cousins
skitter over the
tile – back
and sideways-
and rush into
crevices when light
floods the room
then wait -huddled-
molting in the darkness.
**********************
It’s National Poetry Writing Month again, write a poem a day for each day in April, or read a poem, share a poem. Celebrate!
Taps and Ratamacues 