F
from “Rendition of Change” a work in progress
The stories I teach
open a space.
Our day demands
patience and rest.
Following our talks,
my students leave,
their candles leading
away into the night.
(February 9, 2019)
-
Again
A
Even against prevailing winds,
the pattern persists—Happiness
is a myth. Too troubled to
untangle this moment from
the last, I am trapped in
a quandary of happenstance,
an Irish know woven from briar.
Unlike Lao Tzu by a pond, I hesitate
allowing decisions to pass undecided.
I don’t wait for the wind to fall,
or the murk to settle into clarity.
(February 8, 2019)
-
Modesty
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
I’m too proud too often
when time’s safer
to stay humble,
thus unnoticed;
the gods take joy
in slapping down hubris.
(February 8, 2019)
-
Possession in Great Measure
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
As I teach my students,
I try to be honest
in who I am;
yet, fear
I’m a fraud.
Teaching’s resistance:
how to read,
analyze,
break meaning from words–
then rewrite
in the students’ voices
without becoming
a lie that exalts
the life
they are not.
(February 7, 2019)
-
Speak Into Silence
S
As if with a spoon,
she scoops the words
from his pliant mouth.
The rounded vowels,
and crisp consonants
shred her tongue
with shards of ice.
Meanwhile, with slick
knives, he carves
all conversation,
leaving bits of blood,
like rose petals,
to stain the ground
in a red-wet lust.
Neither he, not she,
can speak into
what was said.
They stare, stunned,
past empty eyes;
their mouths slack
like the recent dead.
(February 5, 2019)
-
Fellowship
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
We ate a simple shared meal,
a sixteen-bean soup with bits
of Christmas ham. Afterward
we played a counting card game:
They laughed and talked awkwardly,
as players dropped from the game.
I realized, once again,
I do not fit in.
(January 31, 2019)
-
Our Trespasses
Our Trespasses
From thick decades,
memory emerges, with
miniscule shames and sins,
to taunt and accuse again.
Laced like briars between
raw sinew and bone,
the castigating voice
scratches and pricks.
Unable to forget, thus forgive,
all the awkward trespasses
harbored in memory
claw their way free,
like lizards from eggs,
hungry and ready to feed.
(January 31, 2019)
-
Stand Still (Stagnation)
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
Stand Still (Stagnation)
Teaching shatters
my attention;
I return home
to a still silence.
After the storm,
the cistern’s full.
(January 30, 2019)
-
Peace
by
from “Change,” a work in progress
Other’s discontent wears
on me. No peace exists
as time’s delusions
divide all eternity.
(January 29,2019)
-
Treading (Conduct)
by
from “Change,” a work in progress
T
In my oafish way,
I step quite softly—
Wary as I write,
I set myself aside,
and then laugh.
(January 25, 2019)
-
The Taming Power of the Small
by
from “Change,” a work in progress
Our government horrifies me,
and I feel powerless–
Each day I read and talk
with my students;
they exude such optimism
and hope, I’m humbled.
A slight breeze stirs
the oak leaves;
dawn breaks slowly
over all.
(January 25, 2019)
-
Most of His Life He Spends in Lies
by
Lisps and shadows pulse
an aura about him—grey
partial truths like a tongue
along the edge of a lover’s lip.
He’s seduced into his dreams,
limply tangled with desire
for different words, altered spaces;
until his waking life’s effaced,
and he vanishes into mockery
as if he only existed as parody
of everything he once believed.
(January 25, 2019)
-
Holding Together
by
to Lisa
from “Change,” a work in progress
Holding Together
For decades now—
I cannot imagine
waking without you.
We move together
like rivers
through the earth.
Even when lost
in tidal shifts,
we are an ocean
holding together
who we are
in the world.
We share this day,
with each small embrace.
(January 25, 2019)
-
The Army
by
from “Change,” a work in progress
Poetry, like dark earth,
contains my strength.
(January 24, 2019)
