Odes and Other Poetry

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Ode to a Farmer’s Market

The dust that kicks and whirls

Among the feet of so many

Somebody’s, carefully unaware

Of whose prints went before,

Drifts into my vision like

The speckled air within a

Shaft of sunlight, caught lilting

And falling with the breeze.

***

Ode to Rain

The panes are rivulets of glass

Sliding through transparency

And on into oblivion.

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Ode to the Library

10/31/10

Their cracking spines, the smell of leather,

Encasing me in word and letter.

But how on earth do I begin?

I run my hands along their skin,

The words and phrases held within.

These rows of thoughts stacked far above

My head, like abbey walls I love

To find a sanctuary under,

Never bothered, left to wonder

At the smell of thought that’s here…

Far too many, far too dear.

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Men

10/31/10

Would you men stop your whining?

Your pining? Your sighing?

I’m sick to my stomach,

Don’t act like you’re dying.

I know that you aren’t,

I see you’ve got breath

To make all these pathetic

Laments at my breast.

So you must be alright,

(Or at least right enough)

To get out of my hair

‘Fore I knock your block off!

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A Man Is Like A China Cup

-10/31/10

A man is like a china cup:

You choose it,

Use it,

Drink it up.

And then one day by some slight slip,

You drop that cup from where it sits

And there he shatters on the floor…

No matter! There are many more.

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