Tag Archives: poetry

Stumptown Winter

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Cold season’s sky

The color of

old men’s teeth.

Discouraging,

like poverty,

a hapless, heavy gray.

Freezing rain.

Needles piercing tattooed skin

Staggering,

Like an angry crowd’s

paralytic crush.

Then a bud,

A blade of chartreuse grass.

It only takes an infant’s smile

To excise labor’s pain.

By Stacy Alexander, 2017

Let us sit down soon to eat

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foodLet us sit down soon to eat

with all those who haven’t eaten;
let us spread great tablecloths,
put salt in the lakes of the world,
set up planetary bakeries,
tables with strawberries in snow,
and a plate like the moon itself from which we can all eat.
For now I ask no more than the justice of eating.

~Pablo Neruda

 

Spontaneous Poem for Wednesday – by Pamela Goode

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My friend, Pam Goode probably has no idea how much an inspiration she is to me, and on so many different levels, and for so many different reasons….but she is.  I considered her Spontaneous Poem for Wednesday a true gift, as it was exactly what I was looking for this morning…in a “Seek and ye shall find” kind of way.    Thank you for this, Pam.

(P.S. – Oh…and you rock.)

Weightless

there are times of
too many
too much
too few
never enough

and the subject matter dances between the lines, depending
voices
emotions
work
drink
sustenance
fear
sorrow
joy
surprise

and sometimes what falls into “too much” one day
falls into “never enough” on another

and i struggle with this dance of
emotion
pain
joy
change

in equal amounts of
too much and
too little

believing
that to live fully is to know
it all
intensely
hurt and
solace

but it is never
weightless

c. Pamela Goode

“Love liberates” – R.I.P. Dr. Maya Angelou

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maya a

Some old poetry

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These  are some of my older poems:
We are….
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R
Two notes
Harmonious Duet
in Spirit and in flesh
Adagio & capriccio at once.
Restful at ease…but spirited
Composing our own chromatic scale
We are enharmonic intervals
Two notes…
Differing in name only
Homophony, meant to play
in unison
Intimate in character,
…yet impromptu
Timeless and classical
Yet newly composed
Playing each measure
lovingly and in tempo
A Romantic prelude
to our climatic symphony.
 
guitarkiss

heart-moon

A Heart Struck Moon

Our flesh entwined

on the altar bed.
Moonlight
gently bathes
Cimmerian shade
with lustrous alms.
of light.
and love.
A heart struck moon
Paints lace of light,
Across our mortal souls,
We kiss goodnight.
 blue angel

Pseudologia Fantastica

With mirrors

summoned from

A childhood priest,

Fata Morgana

sweeps a rusty Midas

high and away

in the cold-hearted

dry autumn air.

Calcine flames

wildfire

over Incubus’ air castles

Ere tornados blast their

cinders to the cheerless heavens.

Algonquin’s frosty smile.

Dreaming of her king’s

resplendent touch

Her inexorably

treasured taste

of gold.

I am the charred remains.

 foxfire

The Luminescence of Foxfire

The luminescence of foxfire

bathes decaying wood.

Suffused, languished light

yearning for the magic

that lives in old books

and fond familiar thoughts.

Meridian shadows can

gull a blind blue eye

into higher thoughts

that quickly drop beneath

dark forest canopies,

and eternal nights of

faintly obscuring leaves.

leafless

Season

Leafless branches reach
to the cloudy darkness of the
December Portland rain.
 pregnant

Gestation

Art waits inside my brain.

Forming sinewy
limbs to create words

twisting forth and bursting

beating with the same heart
as my own

Waiting to emerge.

Stacy Alexander
2009

 drop of blood

Poem for a poem

A poem surged
through my brain
blood though vein
dense and viscous
deep. red. irreverent.
Now it rests
on my bones
and on desert
dry , brittle. soft. gray. white.
Stacy Alexander
2009

Clearlake

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Your Eyes

These ducks were not yet hatchlings

When the cold  lake took your last warm breath,

enveloping your heart as it slowed and

you slid downward, toward the silt

until it stood still.

This morning, the  lake  looks the same

Crows complaining through the dawn’s silver air

Geese overhead, marching through fine silk clouds

Your ashes on a mantel, miles up shore,

cannot see the waters early magic sparkle.

This shine came from your eyes.

Eyes rolling upward like the waves

Lapping onto shore

White blanks

Signifying

An early, watery grave.