POEMS
Why so serious?WORCESTER, MA 13 November 2009 |
|
Derrick holds cities to his lips; jasmine petals,
small bottles of quenched thirst for dry desert highways.
he drinks them like tea, commits them to memory.
Lea folds Einstein into origami birds,
sings them into flight, physics and spirit entwined-–
comets streaking the night, burned into memory.
The actor smears malice on his face like war paint,
kisses razors, slashes a grimace of the dark,
a laugh that freezes blood, his final memory.
The critic treats each poem as archaeology –
excavating remnants of some lost pyramid,
searching for lost truths that echo through memory.
Robert talks of Hafez, of sculptures breathing
in the buzz of whispers, ear to ear, transcending
their prisons of paper, life lived in memory.
Victor, is there some unhealed broken rib in you
that leaves you gasping, peering into shadows,
searching for the sky, finding only memory?
|
||
Related Posts |
Each stanza is itself a story. I’ve always found that most appealing with poetry and this poem is no different. The 2nd stanza would have to be my personal favorite - the folding of Einstein into an origami bird…