poetryrepairs #202 v14.07:079
KELLY JEAN WHITE : You Left Me for the Ohio
CHERYL SNELL : Landscape with White Noise
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You Left Me for the Ohio
  You said you weren't ready to be my lover so every day we walked beside the Wissahickon. We watched it enter the Schuylkill and I waited for readiness—cold mornings, we saw the cold sun climb a bare tree and blew on our hands hoping for deer. Ten years. And we argued about a door in stained glass. I told you to take a ride. You called from West Virginia. Half a year and we meet half-way. You let me come to Front Royal. The Shenandoah. I was afraid at the sheer drops, but I drove myself to your Ohio, your Allegheny, your Monongahela. You let me come again with you to the place where the waters merge into the Ohio, at Parkersburg, at Marietta, down Tug Fork and Lewis Fork, Big Sandy, Bull Creek, White Clay Creek, the Little Kanawha. I stayed afraid. New River Gorge. Rocks. But I followed you, remembered your Delaware, your Rancocas, the bright moon over your Conestoga, down Little Elk Creek, Big Elk, almost into Chesapeake Bay, almost into the sea. I climbed behind you stand where Jefferson watched the Potomac join the Shenandoah. I was afraid.  The sheer drop to the Valley. The wind. The cold. And you kept climbing ahead of me to a higher rock. You marvel when the water is high. You  marvel when the water is low. You take out the map to trace the little snake of the Susquehanna. You could sing me to sleep with rivers: Rhapahannoc. Kuskokwim. Cumberland. Cimarron. Missouri. I could fly like Sacagawea, see our path clear as a hawk, fly, crying that hawk's cry, lead us, sleep us, sleep us home.

poetryrepairs #202 v14.07:079

All the fine arts are species of poetry--Samuel Taylor Coleridge

poetry repairs your heart
even as it splits it open.
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Pediatrician Kelley White worked in inner-city Philadelphia and now works in rural New Hampshire. Her poems have appeared in journals including Exquisite Corpse, Rattle and JAMA.  Her most recent books are TOXIC ENVIRONMENT (Boston Poet Press) and TWO BIRDS IN FLAME (Beech River Books.) She received a 2008 PCA grant

Landscape with White Noise
The zigzag of events leads us straight to the child in the closet. We'll need more pillows for this. More blankets, more comforters. A shotgun for the TV. News continues to spin on a dime. Alarmist weather. A stolen identity sits on a microchip, cooling its heels. The aroma of coffee shimmies through air ducts next door, wafting across the wide screen where shapes flicker in the dark. They do whatever it is you wouldn't, not in a million years. The hand -holding couple crosses against the light. Their orange hair lifts like prairie grass. Fun-house silhouettes sprawl across urban graffiti. I used to play acoustic, he screams over traffic. But now I'm way plugged in.

poetryrepairs #202 v14.07:079

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You have gone to the confusion of melancholy, to the bracken of abusive love poisoned by demands of total submission. Where love is brutalised chained to basement walls where sunlight of spring cannot reach the bleak dungeon of sick minds Free yourself from the shackles of pain I will show you the nascent where the river Love begins, together we will see the birth of rainbows.

from poetryrepairs 04.03:027
poetryrepairs #202 v14.07:079

Poetry endangers the established order
of the soul - Plato

REPAIR : resort, frequent or habitual going; concourse or confluence of people at or in a place; making one's way; to go, betake oneself, to arrive; return to a place; to dwell; to recover, heal, or cure; to renew; to fix to original condition.
-- Oxford English Dictionary

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KELLY JEAN WHITE : You Left Me for the Ohio
CHERYL SNELL : Landscape with White Noise

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