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Afflatus
Caressing shapes,
the curves of ess,
the thrust of 'h'
and tee,
admiring each angle
of double yew
and zee,
delighting in
the flourish
of the tails
of cue and why,
we scribe, arranging,
sorting shapes
to please the eye.
In alphabetic
technicolor,
dancing
letters soar,
anapests and anaphoras,
marinisms with
metaphors.
Jays bluely fly
from waxing pens,
eliciting round
"ohs",
unsure of the direction
the inspired
numen goes.
Epiphany incites,
seas part the way.
Cays fork twice,
while peas appear,
alliteration
models bees
to gratify the ear.
'Tis laboured love,
the sculpted rhyme,
passion,
trope emoting,
madness masked,
the polyrhythmic
endless poeting.
Techno-Woman Autobieulogy
My loved ones quietly observed the ever growing heap
of techno-toys invading my sanity and sleep.
Hardware, software, phones, and office incidentals,
Downloaded, purchased, ordered securely with credentials.
Zombie-like, each morning , eyes half-closed
I’d turn on my computer, staring blankly as I dozed.
Check the e-mail…egad! there’s at least twenty-three.
Each and every one expects an answer back from me.
With pitying eyes they’d slowly nod and shake their heads,
…… not knowing I was jealous as they snuggled in their beds.
I’d try, but in the night the computer called, enticing as it was.
Seductively, the cyber-world multi-tasked and buzzed.
Connected to the world by just one more wireless widget,
I couldn’t be disconnected, or I’d soon begin to fidget.
My cell phone was call forwarded from home to office to me
through countless numbers of remotes, for just a little fee.
Thank goodness most of them could operate devoid of wires-
or my head would be Medusa-like and surely start some fires.
I buzzed and clicked and logged, typing all configurations
until my brain was maximized to format all creations.
I couldn’t function properly without the correct prompts.
My life became case-sensitive, fully dragged and dropped.
By default, my operating system ran without me fairly well-
Foolishly, at first I thought that no one else could tell.
But they knew-suggestions of cures and remedies poured in.
Alas, they came too late, the latest chips would win.
Electronic science slowly overshadowed everything
as I succumbed each day and the addiction took full wing.
Everywhere I went, the phones were sure to go-
I couldn’t even bathe without those things in tow.
My pals would lose their patience, as we tried to have a talk
or do the simplest things, like go out for a walk.
Each time I tried for leisure, my phone would always ring-
a client, a salesman, wanting just one more little thing.
Wean yourself, my friends would cry, you must destroy this beast,
Cut back, cut down, to six phones at the very least.
But as the days flew by, it was clear to all around-
that it was hopeless…..a cure would not be found.
A group decision, made in my best interest, they said-
the only thing to do was to unplug my networked head.
Sadly, family, friends and clients gathered round my desk
Mercifully, at last, to put the madness all to rest.
One by one, unplugging slowly, each techno toy and tool
They said their sad goodbyes to the virtual, crazy fool.
First the e-mail, giving one last blip across the screen,
Then the fax….it was horror, like you’ve never seen.
Next, my server’s internet connection was unplugged
As all sobbed openly, and in a desperate huddle hugged.
My life was fading fast, with one last heaving sigh
They cancelled all my numbers, but still I didn’t die,
Until they de-programmed my cell phones,
and there was silence…
no pulse, no beeps, no tones.
Kimberly
I hear your old car roaring up the hill.
The gate crunches, scraping on the porch.
Half the dutch door swings open
to create a frame
for this snapshot of your arrival.
I hang it in my memory.
Bright smiles warm the hall
and clouds scatter
in the path of hugs and laughter.
Sharing a private joke,
our giggles turn to belly laughs.
Conversation mellows,
woman thoughts to one another.
Your chestnut eyes of wonder
sparkle their astounding wisdom.
I stroke your hair,
you purr your kitten pleasure,
nurturing every good thing in me.
There’s your child face,
the one in my old photos.
The grin, the flashing brilliant eyes.
I count myself among the favoured
to have witnessed your unveiling
over more than twenty years of time.
But each time goes too quickly,
and in another roar of old car noise
you’re gone, to live the promise
of your energetic youth,
with the man of your dreams,
to examine each link in the elaborate chain…
to share your magic with the planet.
Imagine Us
Look,
Jude—
do you think we’ll ever be like them?
The ancient frail couple, arm in arm,
slowly crossed the busy street.
Yes, we will—
we’ll have a house with old-folks scented air,
great-grandchildren pictures everywhere,
and we’ll still go walking every day.
Imagine us—
wrinkles, faded haired, curved backs,
fragile heads protected by warm hats,
with a history longer than we’ve been alive.
Each morning—
with grateful hearts, still beguiled,
reflections of our youth will smile
from so many years ago.
Each night—
I will thank the world for you,
the story written, just as I’d do—
yes, the happy ending. |