Poetry 4 Spring 2017

 

 

Old Heart

 

   by Ute Carson

 

Lub dup, lub dup, lub dup.

Muscles flex, soundwaves murmur

day by day, year after year.

You’ve never let me down.

Loves flowed freely in and out of

your crimson chambers as welcome guests.

When they departed there were hugs

and sometimes tears

but you never missed a beat.

You were ageless then.

 

There are fewer guests now.

Your walls have thinned,

your rhythms slowed, your beats labored.

Still, you cling to one lifelong love

with every tenuous sinew,

anxious that you might shut down

should that guest ever leave.

 

Be brave, old heart.

Let even your most precious love

come and go

as if you were still young

with nothing to fear,   

as if the beat could never stop.

 

 

 

Bio: A writer from youth, German-born Ute Carson has published three novels, a novella, three collections of poetry and numerous essays and short stories. She resides in Austin, Texas with her husband. They have three daughters, six grandchildren, a horse and a number of cats. Please visit her website www.utecarson.com

 

 

Perpetual Stillness

   by James B. Nicola

 
Celibacy is not sterility.
It’s just that I must be a hummingbird
when you would have a songbird. Although we
have traded ecstasies—for you have heard
my hum as I have sipped your nectar—I
have hovered when you would have had me fly.
Had I but been a flower to your flower
or you a creature wont to be unrooted
could we have passed a more enthralling hour?
Could an attraction have been more unsuited?
 
Say mismatched—but don’t say unnatural!
Hummingbirds, like most birds, come back each spring;
and there are others like the eagle and hawk,
who don’t exactly sing
but sort of squawk.
 
So what is so unconscionable that I hum?
 
At least, wherever you are, my unrequited,
whether you’ve invited or not invited
me, I am attracted, flap, and come.
 

 

Bio: James B. Nicola’s poems have appeared in Greensilk, the Antioch, Southwest and Atlanta Reviews, Rattle, and Poetry East. His nonfiction book Playing the Audience won a Choice award. His two poetry collections, published by Word Poetry, are Manhattan Plaza (2014) and Stage to Page: Poems from the Theater (2016). He won a Dana Literary Award, a People's Choice award (from Storyteller) and a Willow Review award; was nominated twice for a Pushcart Prize and once for a Rhysling Award; and was featured poet at New Formalist. A Yale graduate, James has been giving both theater and poetry workshops at libraries, literary festivals, schools, and community centers all over the country. He is also a director, composer, lyricist, and playwright; his children’s musical Chimes: A Christmas Vaudeville premiered in Fairbanks, Alaska, where Santa Claus was rumored to be in attendance on opening night. More at sites.google.com/site/jamesbnicola.
 
 
 

For the Length That Green Leaves Go

        by   Kim Hazelwood

 

If I had it all to do over again,

Less would most certainly  have been more,

A fantasy of different beginnings of starting over

But I waltzed a rain dance

And giggled for days,

Lost overboard

In the fallout from the floodgates.

 

O yes!

Less is considerably more

Between beats and spaces and silences,

Just before the singer takes a breath, before an artist

Strums a stroke,

Sweet moment light catcher,

Of not knowing anything,

Of not saying anything,

About

The deepest shadows of sorrows,

Of sad, pithy pearls in private places.

 

But outside just beyond the deck of daybreak,

It is wild and wondrous ,

And willowy ; winter-less.

 

Emerald lush climbing foliage fingering impossible colors,

Bushes brimming,

Flowers crowding

And winding and thriving in the tiniest of places

Grand  heart spaces

For the lengths that thousands of green leaves  go

Continuing  to spread

The lace of love

That someone so  richly imagines.

 

Is less more?

Go tell that to April,

Go tell that to May,

Go tell that to the gloss of  a  lovely June day.