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POETRY CLUB POEMS


August in Eighty Eight

August 1988


Summer – about to end –

Fall days – coming to us –

And fun – I hope you had -

Wonder.  Terrific Days -


Your school - beginning –

New mates – Gold like Sun’s rays.

Listen – Hear the right tune –

Merit.  Galaxies' Stars.



Cycles

August 1988

  

In spring there’s sacrifices’ glories

Summer’s a time for becoming human

There’s love in fall to heighten awareness

Winter shows us a measure of refrain.


Mysterious genes starting up at spring

Into summer’s explosive dominance

Then back into the earth at fall again

Dormant winter but still our masters.


Spring days lengthening, awakening desire

Summer evenings, heat waves, our exhibits

Fall’s horizon glow reorients us

Stark and cold nights hide us during winter. 



The Lord of Sipan

September 1988


Sipan, you laid hidden those many years

Undisturbed as you were left with your gold;

How nice to find you intact, giving us

Treasures of knowledge about your old world.

Huaquesos, rummaging the world’s treasure

Acts of rambling and rampant destruction

Fouling lords like Sipan; being manure.

We’re now a too concerned institution –

Harmonizing the long, great disorder

As Sipans are painstakingly dusted;

Now accurate and scientific we are

Building on what they have generated –

Preserving and caring, used to retain

All lords which will forever be again.



To the Moon

December 1989


I need you,

Not to walk on,

Or as a captured rock

For identifying the composition of faraway places.


I need you,

Not to make all

The seas go in and out,

Or to show me the end of a time span called a month.


No,

I need you

To watch you float across a silk black sea,

Awakening the mysterious in me and opening the flood gates of my feelings.



Contra Lines

July 1990


Then the caller steps

to the microphone –

“Find a partner and form contra lines!”

  

Down the line –


Every two

couples

hold hands

in a group

of four.


Within

each group

one couple

is active,

the other inactive.


Actives move

away from

the music,

in-actives to it,

until each reach

the line’s ends

and reverse.


The caller goes

through the dance –


“Actives face down,

in-actives up,

turn by the right

one and three quarters,

to form lines of four,

join hands, balance

in a line, and

males turn by the left

a half.


Swing your partner

and end up proper,

to form lines of four,

face down and walk,

turn as a couple

back and circle

four to the left,

a full.

  

Do-si-do

your opposite

one and a half

until you meet your

new opposite, and

having progressed,

turn by the right

starting again.”


Twenty males and

twenty females

feel breast to breast.


Twenty couples in line

in unison,

sharing the same steps

rhythmic pulses

beats

and responses.


Immersed.


Exhilarated.


The musician’s rhythm

is the language

of the dancer,

whose steps

are like

a poet’s voice.



Zentrum Markt Platz

(To Freedom)

July 1990


Irises, roses, lilies,

chrysanthemums, morning glories –

Exploding on top of long lines

of patterned formations

of green-uniformed soldiers

at attention.


 Carrots, beets, turnips,

asparagus, squash, potatoes –

Bizarrely-designed

daring to be named

and described.


Berries, bananas, apples,

pears, plums, grapes –

In debutant lines

wearing brightly-colored dresses

to excite

a suitor’s fancy.


Breads, buns, rolls,

pastries, cakes, croissants –

Carefully crafted

and streaming

a beckoning ambience.


Scurrying crowds with bulging bags

and overflowing pockets –

celebrate their happiness.



An Elegy for My Father

July 1990

 

Starting poor,

like the sun

going down.

It happens,

as darkness

always comes.


You found your good way,

without help.

It happens,

and the rain came,

and the crops grew.


I do care,

but always

it’s too late.

It happens,

like the world

revealing secrets.

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