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Parting

With appreciation to poet Brenda D'Alotto

 

The half-empty cup of coffee leaves

Grounds upon my bitter tongue,

Not unlike the taste of tears

You left streaming down,

Down across my patient, parted lips.

 

Moments ago I met you,

Wrapped in the sharp autumn smells

Of last October, when the sun shone

Like the promise of Love you gave so

Freely, so easily in that moment

 

When I realized, you never gave but

Took; and that soft light reflected

In your eyes was only mine.  Cast

There until it filled me as the sun still

Fades into the coldness of an autumn night.

 

 

 

 

It's a Melancholy thing

by Gawaine Caldwater Ross

 

to be a poet.

According to Rimbaud, the poet is

the technician of the sacred,

the psychopomp and priest -

but he needs an audience,

people to hear his cries

and shudder at his rages:

in other words, a public,

or at least,

a tribe.

Without these one is nothing;

no matter how finely crafted

each polished line -

Poets have killed themselves for this.

Hart Crane leapt off a steamer,

Sylvia Plath gassed her head,

Anne Sexton,

she offed herself too.

Yours truly knifed himself

and sliced a major artery;

one minute of frenzy

gave six months of agony.

Behold the scars of madness!

The scopolamine dosage

dried out his eyes so

that blinking felt like sandpaper

scraping across the eyes

and he shit a bag of sand

and then ten whole months

on the psychiatric ward

eking with schizoids

and alien abductees

there is so much to say

and the nation is deaf.

 

 

 

 

Range Finding

by Robert Frost

 

The battle rent a cobweb diamond-strung
And cut a flower beside a ground bird's nest
Before it stained a single human breast.
The stricken flower bent double and so hung.
And still the bird revisited her young.
A butterfly its fall had dispossessed
A moment sought in air his flower of rest,
Then lightly stooped to it and fluttering clung.

On the bare upland pasture there had spread
O'ernight 'twixt mullein stalks a wheel of thread
And straining cables wet with silver dew.
A sudden passing bullet shook it dry.
The indwelling spider ran to greet the fly,
But finding nothing, sullenly withdrew.

 

 

 

 

The Chickasaw Plum  -  Volume II - Number 12 - December 2005

 

 

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