by

Selima’s Slip

(FYI – there is a photo that accompanies this poem but it doesn’t seem to be working – I will re-upload it asap. My apologies)

Your delicate lines
so precise.

Cold
Calculated curves
of cruel, calamitous Fate,
Stony and tough on top of the scene

Her pointy, painful fingers
poised above

the whirls and billows
of perishing Selima
all in white.

The flavescent fays,
the brilliant beauties,
unspotted
flashy lures to Selima’s faulty footing
Flee the scene.

This poem was written as an ekphrasis exercise in my art criticism class. I wrote it in response to William Blake’s illustration for the poem “Ode on the Death of a Favorite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Goldfishes” by Thomas Gray.

by

The Oakwoods at Dawn

abbey in the oakwoods

I succumb to the sensation
of the great sublime-
Body twitching, imagination bubbling
The brush leaps to my hand.
Blacks, yellows
browns and whites,
They cover the canvas
eclipsing the blank
with the brilliantly dark.
A shadowed scene;
I shiver.

But, oh that one window
the tipping tops of the trees,
the strength, the perserverance
the soaring sunrise.

by

The Drawer

A bird catches flight beneath emerald waves.
On the way they stop for silky chocolate, and jump aboard a twilight train.
Suddenly dolphins are flying through mountain rivers, their silvery sides glowing with rosey tones.
She stared, entranced, at the love-worn sketchbook.
Markers continue dancing, and then fall down, asleep.

by

Edwards and the Spider

Spider sits upon the wooden board,
a “trap door to Hell”
Mr. Edwards says.
The wind of his sermon
tries to blow Spider away
unless he bows to Edwards, and God.
But Spider stands strong
indifferent to his wrath
and unafraid of his threats.

Whoosh! The trap door falls open.
“I told you so.” Edwards begins to say,
but staring in his face is Spider
tongue out and cheery.
Away he climbs up his silky string,
“I am my own savior!” he shouts
and off he goes.

by

Code Orange

The fire pit lies vacant.
The pong ball drones on
bounce plop – bounce plop.
Six packs and cell phones
lighters and liquor,
“You’ve never been drunk?!”
exclaims the girl who never speaks to me
“Here drink this.”
Up in the barn, Code Orange is the main attraction
and headlights line the drive
as more people arrive.
All along I imagined this,
the party scene
crazy teenage fun.
All I want is to go home.

by

Creating You

A cliche death,
you died before
your time.
Before I was ever yours
and you were ever mine.

In the photo
black & white, and faded
your smile
is the highlight.
But your eyes
they embrace me.

I think of you
not lost
but happy.
My imagination
saves me,
And you.