Father and Son
And so I carry you
this last time
To your exhausted bed of death
Where words of hope faith fear
Lock our eyes in a final salute
Silent thoughts and old wishes
Driving us to a familiar silence
No need to speak these words
The private ones never once
Uttered in our lifetime together
For the Love of
Lemons
Hot afternoons are
opportune times;
To fondle plump lemons
the size of grapefruit,
To pierce the skin
thick and tough
like years of sour regret,
To sink the teeth deep
suck the juice out
slowly
squeeze
and believe the juice
is so very sweet
like poetry
powerful yet sweet,
To swallow the seeds.
Wat Jy Se, Is
Waar,
Maar Dit Maak Nie Saak Nie
What you say is
true,
We took this land from the Bantu.
In return,
We let them live
Just beyond our thriving cities,
So that they might learn our ways.
We give them jobs,
Because we must have servants
To keep our houses
And mind our meals.
We find it a pity
That they feel deprived
and yearn to be free of us,
But it does not matter.
four fifteen
a.m.
I am preparing
chicken salad
and while the meat cools
in the colander
in the pocket of the sink
I am cutting grapes
in half
another act of love
in the den
just off the kitchen
I set with an orange bowl
in my lap a bowl
of screaming half grapes
such panic
I have never seen before
I have never
witnessed this before so
I coo to them
my little green sacrifices
my offerings
I coo to them like
I do to babies
and I think about
the women in my life
The Book of
Your Life
And so I gently
close this book
The adventures of your life intact
Africa Europe Hong Kong Brazil
There and back again and again
Never quite willing to give it up
As I feel for your pulse my eyes
Glued to your bare chest and
Blessing the lack of movement
Mother watching fearfully from
Down the hall her hands cover
Her mouth lamenting the need
For such pain and this moment
Vultures
I see them circling
above me
Gliding around
Butt ugly birds
I would know them anywhere
an apache
bursts through the
door
her eyes wild cactus flowers
she breezes through the room
turning hearts our heads we watch
he paints her flawless face
she smells of fresh yellow roses
she takes us for granted somehow
she takes us by surprise her
wind ripping through us/out of us
we re about to give up
we re about to give in
we re about to drink a toast to geronimo
or to jesus
or to the pope
but by then she is gone
History
History tells me to
Beware of an impertinent sea,
Bread and circuses
And angry sisters,
That sometimes such the
Intelligent being, I’ve yet
To get the damn thing right,
That most certainly someone
Will do this thing again and
I’ll be none the wiser for it.
RX #5438221
without this in my
life without
this hidden in my top dresser
drawer i cannot rest or sleep
or just lay my head to dream
i don’t pretend to understand
10 Seconds to
Live
Black lightning
strikes
swifter than light
in these corn fields
and you never know why
the pitch-black Mamba eyes
(black screaming endless black)
attack for no reason.
You are about to die.
the love pool
drained for the
moment
of instinct and reason
i surrender to the season
i am cold
i am empty
i am battened
down under canvass
and cord
The Ridge Was
on Fire Tonight
It was very hot
And it’s not the first time this year
That we’ve seen such mean heat.
It lit up the sky for miles around,
gave it a bright orange and yellow glow,
And it very nearly caught
The trees in the driveway on fire,
But my father and the natives
Tired it out.
Fire fighters even cam.
We feel lucky, because
It’s very dry here this time of year.
But there’s nothing to fear now,
Except the snakes
Flushed out
Bound to take the shortest way down,
Toward us
Away from the hot ground.
thin line
i dont understand
this business
of anger i just
dont get it
i dont understand
the heat of this language
hateful words bang
bang gotta blame
somebody
anybody
anyone
anyone but
ourselves anyone but
us us
mean mister misters
gone and
done it again
i dont understand
the purpose of
this
this is my dilemma
and i find no comfort here
Jacob’s Hall
It’s a long journey
From one poem to the next,
And down the hall
There is an empty room
Where you can wait
And wait
For the special one, you
Know, the one that will
Quench the thirst for more.
You’ll know it when you see it.
But it never happens.
What happens
Is the hall is stuffy,
Tense as a martini
And twice as effective, and
So works pack into the room,
And they dare you to begin.
Daddy’s Boy
Daddy’s boy doesn’t
want to hunt
or fish
or wish for the blunt and
crushing strength of manhood
like daddy does.
He doesn’t want guns, knives,
fire in his eyes, to take
lives for the sake of sport,
blood on his fingers
or death by his hand.
Daddy’s boy wants peace,
freedom for all
and laughter,
release from the steel image
of what a real man should be.
He wants friendship,
respect, poetry
to share photography,
the written work, music
and the love of a good book.
Daddy’s boy wants daddy’s love.
i ate the apple
the core
the stem
the seeds and all
i licked the juice
in front of you
in front of god
i told my
mother so
im going to breaks
frosts record
five pulitzers for poetry before i die
somewhere down the road i cant
say for sure you know...its a feeling
in my room
the darkness is
unnerving
it hangs on me like fear
i am cornered on the bed
a prisoner of old memory
the nightmare of snakes
i surrender the cold floor
but i do not want to sleep
In the Kiaat
Tree
Vervet monkeys wail
and cackle
As they fling their small furry bodies
Back and forth in the graceful tree,
Black hands clinging to rough gray bark,
Black faces laughing, eyes wide and giddy
From the perfumed pea-like yellow flowers.
But they don’t notice the patient python
Blending in with the dark gray branches
A thin beam of elastic shadow reaching,
Gingerly creeping from limb to limb,
Stretching for the favored little prey
With the tasty bright blue neon balls.
I too have left
my mark
In Hong Kong
Up on the Acropolis
In the Coliseum
In the catacombs of St. Peter’s Basilica
Outside the Sistine Chapel
On Sugar Loaf Mountain
On top of the World Trade Center
The Empire State Building
And the Sears Tower
In Central Park
On Table Mountain
On Hilo Hawaii
Truk Island
Guam
Nantucket
The Hoover Dam
And Pikes Peak
In Mozambique
Kenya
The Grand Canyon
And Rothenburg Taube
Like a dog in Zululand
In every ocean
Over the Alps
And at Cadillac Ranch
in the library
they stare so
curiously
little heads cocked
little furry lamas
looking over their books and
they whisper to each other
hes an american
hes american and
I hear them giggling
like raindrops
dripping
from all corners of the room
for my love
a silent moment
room of darkest shadows
ray of sunlight you
reach through the curtain
you warm me
a great fire
upon me
