bob-sterrywt - Hello Poetry

A photographer stands Shutter cable in hand. An image is beating On his camera door Not demanding entrance Light, energy is indifferent But continually present And changing. He thinks he saw something His machine can capture On a thin reactive pellicule. But chemistry only keeps A part of the whole Pulsing available spectrum, And the image emerging Later in a darkened room Is, of course, A fraction.

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Sep 3, 2014

Sep 3, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC

Fraction

A photographer stands Shutter cable in hand. An image is beating On his camera door Not demanding entrance Light, energy is indifferent But continually present And changing. He thinks he saw something His machine can capture On a thin reactive pellicule. But chemistry only keeps A part of the whole Pulsing available spectrum, And the image emerging Later in a darkened room Is, of course, A fraction.

18

In the dark Driving Glance up to see In the mirror A following bulk With a single head light Its cyclopean beam Is tracking me Driving alone On this dark route And I shiver In my seat Sensing a monocular malevolence Behind Almost animal A robo-creature Stalking me in my tin box For miles the lone yellow shaft And its anonymous source Sweep an unnamed fear into me And when the road widens And it passes me I am genuinely surprised to see That its driver has a head.

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Aug 23, 2014

Aug 23, 2014 at 2:30 PM UTC

Monocular Malevolence

In the dark Driving Glance up to see In the mirror A following bulk With a single head light Its cyclopean beam Is tracking me Driving alone On this dark route And I shiver In my seat Sensing a monocular malevolence Behind Almost animal A robo-creature Stalking me in my tin box For miles the lone yellow shaft And its anonymous source Sweep an unnamed fear into me And when the road widens And it passes me I am genuinely surprised to see That its driver has a head.

24

Run away my pale sister Sink safely below the rim Else my rays will burn your face As my strength explodes over the earth But, then savor these minutes When we share the sky And your lovely illumination Yields always to my blaze. And through the day As I burn the landscape I forget you, until, You appear again, behind me. Hard and soft, hard and soft Warm and cool, warm and cool We soak this planet in our own cycle Using the same light. Mine!

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Aug 21, 2014

Aug 21, 2014 at 2:05 AM UTC

Message To The Moon

Run away my pale sister Sink safely below the rim Else my rays will burn your face As my strength explodes over the earth But, then savor these minutes When we share the sky And your lovely illumination Yields always to my blaze. And through the day As I burn the landscape I forget you, until, You appear again, behind me. Hard and soft, hard and soft Warm and cool, warm and cool We soak this planet in our own cycle Using the same light. Mine!

16

I got this body from some people I knew, For a while, at least, And all of its shortcomings Including shortness Were presaged, previewed and More than adequately demonstrated Over the years we lived together. In the years I ignored that, listening Rather to their voices Which illustrated another prophesy less physical And am now stunned to welcome Both my Mother and Father In the shaving mirror everyday.

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Aug 4, 2014

Aug 4, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC

I Got This Body

I got this body from some people I knew, For a while, at least, And all of its shortcomings Including shortness Were presaged, previewed and More than adequately demonstrated Over the years we lived together. In the years I ignored that, listening Rather to their voices Which illustrated another prophesy less physical And am now stunned to welcome Both my Mother and Father In the shaving mirror everyday.

13

I saw a little guy being born I cut the cord that tied him I held him in my arms With his dark damp hair Wetting my hospital gown And his dark eyes looking up Looked right through me And saw something I could not And perhaps it’s best that way Even then he was serene And had the knack of sleep A skill he has preserved Lying so neatly in his bed A lovable length of boy I saw a little guy grow Into a lovely boy Who spoke quietly And was always gentle. I saw a lovely boy grow Into a slender young man And felt all his wounds Like my own, once again Deep and full of rage I can sense his young anger And his musical desire Waiting for an unknown muse To strike him and lead him Somewhere…. I see a slender young man I cut the cord that ties him And watch his dark hair Disappear from my view From my damp eyes.

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Jul 30, 2014

Jul 30, 2014 at 3:54 PM UTC

I Saw A Little Guy Being Born

I saw a little guy being born I cut the cord that tied him I held him in my arms With his dark damp hair Wetting my hospital gown And his dark eyes looking up Looked right through me And saw something I could not And perhaps it’s best that way Even then he was serene And had the knack of sleep A skill he has preserved Lying so neatly in his bed A lovable length of boy I saw a little guy grow Into a lovely boy Who spoke quietly And was always gentle. I saw a lovely boy grow Into a slender young man And felt all his wounds Like my own, once again Deep and full of rage I can sense his young anger And his musical desire Waiting for an unknown muse To strike him and lead him Somewhere…. I see a slender young man I cut the cord that ties him And watch his dark hair Disappear from my view From my damp eyes.

33

You’re my duct tape baby I’m just stuck on you Duct tape Baby Only cloth and glue. When my world falls apart And nothing will hold true I call my duct tape baby I’m really stuck; on you

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Jul 30, 2014

Jul 30, 2014 at 12:26 AM UTC

Duct Tape Baby

You’re my duct tape baby I’m just stuck on you Duct tape Baby Only cloth and glue. When my world falls apart And nothing will hold true I call my duct tape baby I’m really stuck; on you

8

It was about six in the evening Six in the evening when juvenile lust is tumescent And Anne McKilroy made her lips available To mine In the back of the choir outing charabanc She did not mind the smell of corn beef Lingering from my lunch time sandwich

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Jul 29, 2014

Jul 29, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC

First Kiss

It was about six in the evening Six in the evening when juvenile lust is tumescent And Anne McKilroy made her lips available To mine In the back of the choir outing charabanc She did not mind the smell of corn beef Lingering from my lunch time sandwich

7

He was equipped with a fine vocabulary Far in excess of his intellectual needs An entertaining fool Stocked with dictionaries Obscure constructions Medieval verbs Circumlocutory, verbose Impenetrable A simple mind hid amongst A confusion of entangled phrases As if using a foreign language Assembling hopefully meaningful phrases Where a listener may find coherence A simple message Every request Every Statement Observation From his mouth, no matter how mundane Appeared decorated Embellished, almost.. Baroque In this wordy fog It was hard to know Hard to find Traces of a real person A tangible, relatable identity Something predictable. In the swirling wind of Constantly shifting Complex expressions Seeming riddles. He was a prisoner A lifer Doomed to remain Incarcerated in his usage Dense, cloying, exaggerated, unyielding Usage He could not avoid Unconscious, reflexive, merciless He did not struggle, That ended long ago.

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Jul 29, 2014

Jul 29, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC

A Fine Vocabulary

He was equipped with a fine vocabulary Far in excess of his intellectual needs An entertaining fool Stocked with dictionaries Obscure constructions Medieval verbs Circumlocutory, verbose Impenetrable A simple mind hid amongst A confusion of entangled phrases As if using a foreign language Assembling hopefully meaningful phrases Where a listener may find coherence A simple message Every request Every Statement Observation From his mouth, no matter how mundane Appeared decorated Embellished, almost.. Baroque In this wordy fog It was hard to know Hard to find Traces of a real person A tangible, relatable identity Something predictable. In the swirling wind of Constantly shifting Complex expressions Seeming riddles. He was a prisoner A lifer Doomed to remain Incarcerated in his usage Dense, cloying, exaggerated, unyielding Usage He could not avoid Unconscious, reflexive, merciless He did not struggle, That ended long ago.

41

Shucking peas on the back steps Maureen and I watch her Mum, My Aunt Grace, Arguing with Aunt Edna In the kitchen The narrow kitchen Of number 84 Truro Road As they whip a Sunday lunch into shape A test match drones on the radio The aroma of mint on new spuds teases. It’s a modest roast Served in the tiny parlor To nine of us! Eating elbow to elbow With yellow handled knives and forks Down to the bare porcelain Waiting for the apple pie with Libby’s. That crust, with sugar sprinkles Is a lifetime goal for me!

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Jul 28, 2014

Jul 28, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC

Shucking Peas

Shucking peas on the back steps Maureen and I watch her Mum, My Aunt Grace, Arguing with Aunt Edna In the kitchen The narrow kitchen Of number 84 Truro Road As they whip a Sunday lunch into shape A test match drones on the radio The aroma of mint on new spuds teases. It’s a modest roast Served in the tiny parlor To nine of us! Eating elbow to elbow With yellow handled knives and forks Down to the bare porcelain Waiting for the apple pie with Libby’s. That crust, with sugar sprinkles Is a lifetime goal for me!

20

I learned about Oxalic Acid At seventeen When less than anxious for yet more information More notes on a chalkboard In a malodorous Sulphurous school room. Hastily copied in pencil Scribbled then and required to be transformed Later, into copperplate, almost textbook pages. To be judged as adequate; or not. Oxalic Acid; not as deadly. But in a close league, To the clear deadly liquids Held in the dusty skull marked bottles Within easy reach of any manic schoolboy. Dusty bottles in a rack In a rack on a bench On a bench where I sat Where I sat wondering why my mind My sharp juvenile mind would never grasp Molecular Valence Theory quite as well As the taste of a girls lips The smell of her hair The ring of her laugh The answer to a question in her eyes. Years later When that girl had gone I read that Oxalic Acid is found in Rhubarb leaves.

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Jul 28, 2014

Jul 28, 2014 at 4:39 PM UTC

Rhubarb

I learned about Oxalic Acid At seventeen When less than anxious for yet more information More notes on a chalkboard In a malodorous Sulphurous school room. Hastily copied in pencil Scribbled then and required to be transformed Later, into copperplate, almost textbook pages. To be judged as adequate; or not. Oxalic Acid; not as deadly. But in a close league, To the clear deadly liquids Held in the dusty skull marked bottles Within easy reach of any manic schoolboy. Dusty bottles in a rack In a rack on a bench On a bench where I sat Where I sat wondering why my mind My sharp juvenile mind would never grasp Molecular Valence Theory quite as well As the taste of a girls lips The smell of her hair The ring of her laugh The answer to a question in her eyes. Years later When that girl had gone I read that Oxalic Acid is found in Rhubarb leaves.

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