"diegetic" poems
A black and white film
About an old man and his dog.
There is no dialogue.
Just ambient sounds -
First, of the alarm clock’s
monotonous song.
Followed by an abrupt
cutting silence as his hand slams
down on the snooze button
Then, the sound of a coffeemaker
spitting and burbling.
The coffee, pouring into a chipped mug.
Sugar, then milk,
the clink of the spoon against the ceramic
as he stirs
the long first sip
As the man looks curiously
at something on the fridge,
just out of frame.
A bag of dogfood opening.
hard kibble ringing against the metal dish.
The dog grumbling - impatiently waiting.
Tupperware opening
The hum of a microwave, and the beep.
Last night’s stew poured into a bowl
the rest, over the kibble.
The closed caption reads:
[Enthusiastic, sloppy eating noises]
The sound of water running
as the bowls are scrubbed clean.
The door closing as the two leave
for their morning walk.
The old man and the dog
are now sitting on a park bench.
The grass, still wet from the morning dew.
There is a beautiful sunrise
over the nearby lake.
The camera pulls away,
as music overtakes the diegetic sounds
of nearby parkgoers, birds and runners,
and teens playing hooky.
The camera cuts back to for a beat
to the kitchen
in the empty house.
The camera zooms in on a weathered
and well loved piece of paper
held up by a rainbow magnet
on the refrigerator door.
Fade to a black screen,
with white letters:
Fin.
Sep 12, 2022
Sep 12, 2022 at 9:43 PM UTC
The back porch is quiet as they stare out into the well groomed yard,
the beautiful sunrise has been captured reluctantly by the clouds
as a light rain and thunder in the distance breaks the beautiful silence.
She holds her " #1 Mom" mug with two hands
sipping her coffee quietly, silently, non-violently,
as if to avoid startling the birds of summer.
Birds, they bathe without disruption, because this morning,
Predators have turned Peaceful.
As the breeze sways the hand crafted wind chimes,
The diegetic music seems objective as he turns from page to page
The Sunday paper filled with stories of violence and hate
crimes committed with hands that aren't big enough to carry the burden
which is created by taking the life of another, including most recently,
both sisters and brothers, sons killed by their mothers, they're monsters.
but Here, on a Sunday morning, printed words are as close
as violence will ever get to their home. For every man who chooses to be
A Predator, to take the life of another, they know of at least
Two Lovers, a #1 Father and a #1 Mother.
Sitting on the back porch as the rain slows to a halt,
Tomorrow is Monday, taken with a grain of salt.
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 2:06 AM UTC
You for a moment
Become the great love of my life
Then I die again
_______________________________
I in the background
Barely passing into frame
Did you see me there
_______________________________
You brought me hot tea
Giving each other soft smiles
I want to kiss you
______________________________
My body shaking
My mind screaming I LOVE YOU
My lips shut eternal
______________________________
I fall for strangers
Blind to the ones at my door
My heart in the wind
Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC