Write More Poems

a word that should not exist
in any human language: we
cannot do it; why is there a word
for it? we are born. just
born. it is as absurd

as if we had a word
for human flight, or
for space travel without
benefit of capsule, helmet,
breathing apparatus. rebirth.

impossible as human
metamorphosis, as if
we could eat leaves,
coccoon, sleep, emerge
a thing of beauty
even once.

Searching the past for the present
The etymology of who we are
Perhaps a hint of why
In what was said and how
To whom to what end
This word versus that word
Carefully chosen in the mind's syntax
Or thrown wantonly into the air
Built from all the conversations
Held with others or in solitude
Maybe it was easier before words
When all the time we knew
Was the sun moving across the sky

I pour the olive oil on a small plate
white with a blue line just inside the rim
a line of summer sky
the oil a verdant promise of spring
expanding slowly like a change of seasons
or a lie passed from lips to ears

I grate the Parmesan cheese
into a snowdrift pile
at the opposite side of the plate
a different white, warmer
they are not fighters in their corners
they are lovers before the wedding

I tear a hunk of bread from the loaf
fat vicar hired for the service
crusty plump officiate
redolent of yeast and rosemary
one unabashed swirl marries oil to cheese
then consummation in the maw of desire

but, oh, a February wedding is all wrong!

How many poems have been written
about the blank page? At least
One more than the world needs.

Blank page, you stand on my table,
with your hands on your hips
Like my ex-wife used to

Blank page, you taunt me:
"Well?" you say, your eyes
demanding I account for myself.

Blank page I can't read your mind
I don't know what you want
Just say it, tell me what I should write.

Blank page, your silent treatment
is not helping the situation.
Our emotional bond is dissolving.

Blank page, maybe we need some time apart
You stay here, I'll find a place in town
We can't keep doing the same thing over

And expect different results. You
won't change and neither will I
Not in our bones, not in our hearts.

Blank page, I hope we can be friends
But it will take some work on both our parts
Starting with forgiveness.

There are moments
We know nothing to say
A child's needless death
Sudden and inexplicable
If despair turned back time
Stepped into the hour's vortex
Grasped the very instant
Before emptiness erupts
To be filled by memories
In place of infinite possibility