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The Playwrights Forum > The Art & Craft of Writing > Poet's Corner : Critique my Poem > Rapid Eye Movement

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 Posted: Mon Mar 12th, 2007 04:15 am
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timmy
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Joined: Fri Jun 9th, 2006
Location: Oz, Minnesota USA
Posts: 1082
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Mana: 
The first thing I do to awaken
is turn to music to subdue
that time when the strange bird
sings its own dark song, gaudy
among dream flowers

each night seeds of my past
are scattered from shadows
in the countable hours between
sane or sick or the thin cracks
between mortar and brick

occasionally my mother at the foot
in her night chair--
she waits almost every night
for mourning

sometimes Chopin at the window
composing his Preludes, half
listening more to his third doctor
than to my personal request
for a requiem

old teachers: Richard speaking
of Canterbury with a frog voice
or Elizabeth, tall & brittle,
white & stork like,
urging me to write about art
and singing or music--

"just because you’re no good
at either three, don’t mean
your writing can’t be"

old friends:hummingbirds really,
hovering like small kisses,
wondering where i’ve been,
where i’m going or asking
why i still hold pictures
of people i know longer knew

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