Pantoum

The Twilight Parades

When all at once the daylight fades
and crabs run trails in the sand
then do begin the twilight parades
that twilight can demand

And crabs run trails in the sand
propelling the perfect stillness
that twilight can demand
but from which we shall now digress

Propelling the perfect stillness
waves tumble in low susurration
from which we shall now digress
at this hour of the moon’s calculation

Waves tumble in low susurration
washing creatures, peculiar, ashore
at this hour of the moon’s calculation
oysters arrive, with pearls for the poor

Washing creatures, peculiar, ashore
the falling tide leaves bigger plans
oysters arrive, with pearls for the poor
starfish come, then seashells and clams

The falling tide leaves bigger plans
for slowly begins the march
starfish come, then seashells and clams
the shrimp are the first to charge

For slowly begins the march
with lobsters all in a line
the shrimp are the first to charge
as seahorses follow closely behind

Lobsters standing all in a line
clicking their pincers in the lead
as seahorses follow closely behind
along the shore they softly proceed

Clicking their pincers in the lead
then do begin the twilight parades
along the shore they softly proceed
when all at once the daylight fades

Myth Re-appropriation into poem

I Am Sisyphus

I am
more powerful than the gods
am
above
these so-called forces
of nature. Gravity
to me
is just another weight
to overcome.
And I believe,
after these trials,
the Underworld
escape,
games, merely,
that the rock will tip.

Poem from prose snapshots

The Girl in the TV

They were framed
in large, gold-rimmed spectacles,
his eyes.
And my grandpa looked
through them
to read the newspaper.
I was beyond,
staring at the TV,
its already small frame
getting smaller
still,
with time.
And I watched the girl
in the TV
shout and scream
at her grandpa.
But my grandpa
did not see.
So I turned it off.
And removed his large,
gold-rimmed spectacles
so that I
might climb onto his lap
and read the newspaper.

First line from a line in one of Kyle’s poems:

You said to me, “old maps”
and I was at sea again.
Hand me a compass
Give me a fair wind
Blow me east,
for my sails have caught
a tidal spirit.

“On the Building of Boxes” (I may need to change this title)

words: -cucumber, savory, jaunty

And though they don’t have much
in these poor villages,
they manage
to intrigue my nose
with a savory smell – a cucumber
dish that they have spiced up
with cumin,
paprika,
spices of sorts,
and I think about her, again,
the girl who I used
to play with
in my childhood
who walked a jaunty walk
and talked a deliberate talk
in streets that were much too dirty
for me to play in now.

Jumping into poetry…

Words:
-cliff, voice, whir, needle, blackberry, clouds, mother, lick
-include proverb

I am standing
on a cliff
somewhere above the clouds
and the wind,
like the voice of my mother
whirs
and I see her as if
through the eye
of a needle
telling me, softly,
that this, too, shall pass away.

Re-write poem using different style:

I didn’t listen
I obsessed
and when my mother told me
that this, too, shall pass away
I saw the world,
standing on the tip of a needle
stuck
standing
on the tip of a needle
waiting for her to begin
sewing.

‘New York School of Poets’ exercise: In A Sunroom On A Wednesday Morning

Why won’t he look at me?
We’re in the sunroom and we’re
dancing, circling
my green dress
billows out as I
spin
from one Picasso painting to
another
It’s Wednesday morning
and he just stepped off
the plane
from London
into my sunroom
and now he’s playing
the piano
of all things
to do on a Wednesday morning
He’s singing
“pretty Miss May won’t you
sing for me today”
and,
dizzy,
I hold onto the back
of a chair
and quietly stumble in place.

Line Poem Response to Mary Oliver’s Once

On the fence
it hung
dogs nearing
me running
until I finally reached
it
the deer with its hoof caught
on the fence
I pressed
against it, smothering
it got away
and the dogs came nearer
and the trees pressed closer
I saw it again,
later,
well and beautiful.