(I just couldn’t help myself, the title just makes me sound so sophisticated. Haha.) Here’s some poems from my book Maps to Imaginary Places (you can buy it here). I tried to pick diverse poems, one from each year represented in the book. So, here goes:
7 November 2008: “A lion lies in the church as the flood waters rise”
The lion lies in the church as the flood waters rise
Drawing the pastor’s fear as well as his eyes;
Yet she is serene, with her head held up high
And her ears perked to listen to the rain from the sky.
Her handler strokes her gently, for his ease and her repose
Waiting for the downpour to end, and the sun to show;
And when at last the rainfall ceased,
The sun emerged finally from the east:
Through the stained-glass windows of the church,
All could see the ruined earth;
And though the island landscape was stark
The church stood solid like the Ark.
The lion stretches and lifts herself off the floor,
And lets out a dignified, guttural roar.
The refugees in the church get up one by one,
Seeing for themselves the shine of the sun;
Her handler follows after, and the others conform
As she pads through the doors to see off the storm.
23 April 2007: “Anti-Chemistry.“
You and I,
we got this thing
called
anti-chemistry.
I ain’t got
no heart for you
like
you ain’t got for me.
Like two
A-bombs
dropped
side-by-side,
so we
explode
and our
blasts collide;
an arms race
and a stand-off,
of who can
hate who more,
Like Rome
and ancient
Phoenicia,
at last we are at war;
And so we’ll fight
our private battles,
and, without a doubt,
eye for an eye,
we’ll be left blind
in the aftermath
of our fallout.
18 February 2006: “Death of an Angel”
When Heaven cries blood-laden tears
To soothe the pain of earthen fears,
And thunderclouds spawn lightning ties
That streak with rage across the skies,
And hail rips through like bullets cold
Hurtling down toward earth to scold,
Caught by trees and breaking leaves
That soak up rain like thirsty thieves,
With runnels left for smaller things
Soaking mud and drenching wings,
Those godforsaken angels mourn
Beseeching that they be reborn;
Robbed of wings and hallowed breath
With naught to dream of but of death.
9 December 2005: “alleredniC | Cinderella”
Once upon a time,
I was daddy’s little girl.
He put me on a pedestal
Above the whole wide world.
But mom and daddy split,
They just weren’t getting along;
Daddy got my custody, then
Things started to go wrong.
Daddy got a girlfriend soon
And took her as his wife.
Suddenly I became no one
Since *she* was in his life.
I did most of the housework
While she just sat around.
Daddy built her a new house,
And tore my pedestal down.
I resented daddy’s wife
While she was riding high
Daddy didn’t seem to see
How I was hurting inside.
So she took my daddy from me,
My life and love and laughter
My story is alleredniC—with
No “happily ever after.”
29 July 2004: “The Piper”
Let go your comforts, little child,
and dance with me away;
I will show you a land of smiles,
a land of sweets, of demons none!
Follow me, babes of the earth, to my
kingdom of no sorrows—
Dance and follow me away to
the land of no tomorrows!
No tears to fall, no screams to cry,
I’ll lead you to this land;
The Piper calls, “This hav’n awaits
all children of the world!
Follow me, I’ll take you there,
the land with naught but glee—
Dance and follow me away to
the land where you’ll be free!”
And so he led the youth away
to this land he claimed to know,
Followed by a procession
large, of innocence and hope,
All the while puffing his pipe
and humming a happy tune,
A naive pack a thousand strong
marching to death beneath the moon.
2 August 2003: “Great Things”
Great things, my papa said,
Would become of me.
I could be famous, on page
Or on the TV screen.
I could be a singer,
A doctor, or a lawyer;
I could be a Stephen King
Or the next Tom Sawyer.
I will do great things, he told me,
When I’m all grown up,
“Until then,” he said with a grin,
“Sit down and shut up.”
And despite the fact that there are two of my poems from 2002 in the book, I’m not posting them here. They’re a little embarrassing to me, ha. Instead I’m going to post a poem that isn’t in the book. I just realized yesterday that I had left it out, and I feel bad because I thought it was kind of nifty.
26 August 2007 – “Graphite Innuendo”
You penetrate my soul
With your hardened tip—
of lead—
sewing your seeds and
impregnating me with your spawn,
a thousand daydreams
all at once—
eight sneezes, don’t they say?
In and out of me come
ideas thick, and
with great pleasure
I hold you every night,
because you know
you’re all I need—
I only need one pencil to write!
