"I had many things to write, but I will not with ink and pen write unto thee..."
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GREAT LENT in MISSISSIPPI by John Horvath Jr.

L. WARD ABEL
I See The Property

I see the property. All around me small fires pop,
            douse to nothing,
then rekindle as if purposely choosing to flame out-of-concert:
chaotic, countering, reacting only to the others. This world
so far from the world I knew, pockmarked with remnants
of glory, of songs, leavings that give little comfort
within the shadows they cast. I cannot dance in these shadows 
I cannot sing anew. Charred flaked hymnal pages
scatter tunes, thermals carry off and up, smoky crows are joined
ultimately resting out-of-sound and crumpled. 
Here, my blue voiceis red, the color of sunset.

©2007 L. WARD ABEL

poet: L. WARD ABEL poet: BARBARA F. LEFCOWITZ poet: KAREN GODSON PoetryRepairShop navigation
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jw88-31

BARBARA F. LEFCOWITZ
Another Grammar Lesson
	
More devoutly each day
I believe
I'm a dangling modifier
a queen without subjects
the piano in a school for the deaf
When mornings bait me
back to sleep with dream-hooks
I add to my list the black pearl 
that Cleopatra crushed in her wine
the arm
that fell off the Venus de Milo
all of which surpass
being an adjective
stuck like a burr to its noun
a subject still searching for Queens
wherever Brooklyn ends or begins
deaf in the presence of a piano
Venus de Milo ogled by flashbulbs
but fall well short
of life as a transitive verb
ordering all of its objects
my hands pressing into song
that piano's keys
releasing the Venus de Milo
from chisels and hammers
her marble still warm.
			

©2007 BARBARA F. LEFCOWITZ

poet: L. WARD ABEL poet: BARBARA F. LEFCOWITZ poet: KAREN GODSON PoetryRepairShop navigation
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KAREN GODSON
Shame Shame 			

My eyes stared blankly through the slime-covered glass, 
at the human river on the boulevard. 
I noticed three Muslim women walking past, 
marching with their heads concealed in silken scarves. 
Modest but demanding to be heard, they held 
home made signs of Bristol board condemning Bush 
for his oil addiction and I swallowed hard. 
As I looked away my shame made my face flush. 

Shame that I was not out there walking with them, 
and that I hadn't known about it before now. 
I scribbled a mental note to get off here 
on my way back from my appointment downtown. 
As the streetcar stopped at the intersection, 
I noticed a bend in the walking queue. 
The huge crowd surged right, up University. 
Instinctively I looked up the Avenue 
to the mouth of the river, where it became 
a vast sea of Anti-war demonstrators. 
The police were amassed behind City Hall, 
with their myriad of police-horse trailers. 
Proceeding west on Queen Street, while looking back 
I chastised myself for my own ignorance. 
" Never mind not knowing this was going on. 
Shame on you for not having organized it!"			

©2007 KAREN GODSON

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