POETIC TRUTHS
August 05 email newsletter
No. 015
This will be a simple newsletter. Five recent poems that I want to share and that you must read, and a commercial that you can skip.
IN PRAISE OF LOVELINESS
Loveliness
who, when
she talks,
talks in jazz
like Mingus
leading a band,
like Miles
birthing cool . . .
like revelations
erupting into
the 21st century
with respect
for what was . . .
Loveliness
moves in jazz,
her body
in its rhythm
like breathe
thru a saxophone
into the air
of some basement club
in some snowy city
on some Wednesday
after midnight
Loveliness
wraps herself
around my soul
like the music
moves me
Loveliness
moves in jazz . . .
Loveliness
moves around
my soul,
into my soul
Loveliness
moves me
like the music
moves me . . .
DANCE ON
dance on
holy ground,
'round and 'round
to thunder's rumble
dance on
holy ground,
'round and 'round
to the whims of the wind
dance on . . .
bare feet harden
on the ground
of the graves
of those who danced
before
dance on . . .
dance on
when the red moon
rises big and low
on the horizon
TODAY RAIN LOSES GRACE AND FALLS
today rain loses grace and falls
from time to time from an overcast sky
two mushrooms grow from the worn carpet
in the corner of the shaman’s bed chamber
twilight-age music plays to hear itself
in some deep yearning to justify existence
this air becomes too cool and humid;
wispy fog almost wishes itself to life
today rain loses grace and falls
from time to time from an overcast sky
two mushrooms grow from the worn carpet
in the corner of the shaman's bed chamber
his mind floats into a different world
or sees this one for what it’s become
his mind visits wisdom earned from silky friends,
his mind hears Lewis Carroll write of Alice in Wonderland
today rain loses grace and falls
from time to time from an overcast sky
wet, the shaman disappears into ancient forest,
into the heavy scent of honeysuckle
musical notes touch his invisible skin like water,
he laughs uncontrollably until he stops
he nods for the seven sisters of sleep,
and wraps himself in the leaves of the trees
he listens to the wisdom in the bark,
to the legends of fairies, elves, and pixies
beautiful women from myths yet untold
feed him fruits, berries, and flowers
he wants, but he won't, he wants, but he won't;
today rain loses grace and falls
AND SHE THOUGHT, "I AM THE RAIN WHEN I READ IT"
" . . . today rain loses grace and falls,"
and she stopped reading and closed the book
and she thought "I am the rain when I read it"
and she was blue
and the rain fell like soft diamonds from the blue sky
and she stripped off her clothes
and she walked into the rain
and she raised her arms to the sky
and she was bruised by the softness
and she tried to rub the softness from her mind
and she found herself on the tangled edge
and she walked into the ancient forest
and she could not see into the black shadows
and she took a long, deep breath, silent
and, finally, she walked back into herself
and, finally, she hugged herself back into existence
and, today, rain loses grace and falls
like soft diamonds from the blue sky
REVEL
Jazz trumpet
through a window
during mid-day sun
notes
over and over again,
each time new,
never losing
the basic feel of sadness
mixed with anger
sounds of
hail and fire
mixed with blood
hiss of fire
cast into the sea
silence
of a shooting star
twilight coming
to question mankind
bottomless pit
of a heroin haze
desperate notions
of a final revenge
pale angel
in black cotton;
quiet, she trembles,
a small book
open in her hands
sits
on the low curb
of a rundown street
on the edge of a city
at the end of time
listens
to the trumpet
as thousands of stars
slowly push the sun
below the horizon
she has
a new face, untouched
by the aging trumpet's
earthly anguish;
eager to appease
at her feet,
in the winds' swirls
of the street's trash
and broken glass,
is her small purse
the purse holds
seven golden vials filled
with the wrath of her god
who considers us all
to be his own children
Grace be unto us all, and peace . . .
Jazz trumpet
through a window
during midnight’s cool,
the basic feel of sadness
mixed with anger
silence
of a shooting star
Grace be unto us all, and peace . . .
pale angel
in black cotton;
quiet, she trembles,
on the low curb
at the end of time
Grace be unto us all, and peace . . .
COMMERCIAL: CREATIVE WRITING CLASS
I get to teach the three-hour "Creative Writing: 10 Essential Elements" – eight times this fall at two community colleges. Would love to have some of you attend, and some of the folks you know. Please help me spread the word.
RICHLAND COLLEGE IN DALLAS (www.richlandcollege.edu, 972.238.6144)
11 October; 15 November
TRINITY VALLEY COMMUNITY COLLEGE (www.tvcc.edu, 903.675.6212)
28 September, Palestine; 1 October, Terrell; 3 October, Athens; 8 October, Athens; 26 October, Terrell; 12 November, Palestine
I also get to teach a new class – "Low-key Public Speaking" – at TVCC: 26 September, Palestine; 5 October, Terrell; 24 September, Athens; 17 October, Athens; 29 October, Terrell; 5 November, Palestine
You can always schedule a private class for small groups.
###
Let me hear from you. If you like this, please forward it to others who might like it. I have (mostly) poetry chapbooks available for $5 each or five for $20. I'll handle postage for folks on this list. Email or write me for details. The newest of more than 20 chapbooks is City Under a Tree, which I wrote while I was waiting to buy toner so I could make copies of the previous chapbook, Eve's World.
7391 FM 773
Ben Wheeler TX 75754-2501
(For you singer-songwriter fans, that's in Van Zandt County)
August 05 email newsletter
No. 015
This will be a simple newsletter. Five recent poems that I want to share and that you must read, and a commercial that you can skip.
IN PRAISE OF LOVELINESS
Loveliness
who, when
she talks,
talks in jazz
like Mingus
leading a band,
like Miles
birthing cool . . .
like revelations
erupting into
the 21st century
with respect
for what was . . .
Loveliness
moves in jazz,
her body
in its rhythm
like breathe
thru a saxophone
into the air
of some basement club
in some snowy city
on some Wednesday
after midnight
Loveliness
wraps herself
around my soul
like the music
moves me
Loveliness
moves in jazz . . .
Loveliness
moves around
my soul,
into my soul
Loveliness
moves me
like the music
moves me . . .
DANCE ON
dance on
holy ground,
'round and 'round
to thunder's rumble
dance on
holy ground,
'round and 'round
to the whims of the wind
dance on . . .
bare feet harden
on the ground
of the graves
of those who danced
before
dance on . . .
dance on
when the red moon
rises big and low
on the horizon
TODAY RAIN LOSES GRACE AND FALLS
today rain loses grace and falls
from time to time from an overcast sky
two mushrooms grow from the worn carpet
in the corner of the shaman’s bed chamber
twilight-age music plays to hear itself
in some deep yearning to justify existence
this air becomes too cool and humid;
wispy fog almost wishes itself to life
today rain loses grace and falls
from time to time from an overcast sky
two mushrooms grow from the worn carpet
in the corner of the shaman's bed chamber
his mind floats into a different world
or sees this one for what it’s become
his mind visits wisdom earned from silky friends,
his mind hears Lewis Carroll write of Alice in Wonderland
today rain loses grace and falls
from time to time from an overcast sky
wet, the shaman disappears into ancient forest,
into the heavy scent of honeysuckle
musical notes touch his invisible skin like water,
he laughs uncontrollably until he stops
he nods for the seven sisters of sleep,
and wraps himself in the leaves of the trees
he listens to the wisdom in the bark,
to the legends of fairies, elves, and pixies
beautiful women from myths yet untold
feed him fruits, berries, and flowers
he wants, but he won't, he wants, but he won't;
today rain loses grace and falls
AND SHE THOUGHT, "I AM THE RAIN WHEN I READ IT"
" . . . today rain loses grace and falls,"
and she stopped reading and closed the book
and she thought "I am the rain when I read it"
and she was blue
and the rain fell like soft diamonds from the blue sky
and she stripped off her clothes
and she walked into the rain
and she raised her arms to the sky
and she was bruised by the softness
and she tried to rub the softness from her mind
and she found herself on the tangled edge
and she walked into the ancient forest
and she could not see into the black shadows
and she took a long, deep breath, silent
and, finally, she walked back into herself
and, finally, she hugged herself back into existence
and, today, rain loses grace and falls
like soft diamonds from the blue sky
REVEL
Jazz trumpet
through a window
during mid-day sun
notes
over and over again,
each time new,
never losing
the basic feel of sadness
mixed with anger
sounds of
hail and fire
mixed with blood
hiss of fire
cast into the sea
silence
of a shooting star
twilight coming
to question mankind
bottomless pit
of a heroin haze
desperate notions
of a final revenge
pale angel
in black cotton;
quiet, she trembles,
a small book
open in her hands
sits
on the low curb
of a rundown street
on the edge of a city
at the end of time
listens
to the trumpet
as thousands of stars
slowly push the sun
below the horizon
she has
a new face, untouched
by the aging trumpet's
earthly anguish;
eager to appease
at her feet,
in the winds' swirls
of the street's trash
and broken glass,
is her small purse
the purse holds
seven golden vials filled
with the wrath of her god
who considers us all
to be his own children
Grace be unto us all, and peace . . .
Jazz trumpet
through a window
during midnight’s cool,
the basic feel of sadness
mixed with anger
silence
of a shooting star
Grace be unto us all, and peace . . .
pale angel
in black cotton;
quiet, she trembles,
on the low curb
at the end of time
Grace be unto us all, and peace . . .
COMMERCIAL: CREATIVE WRITING CLASS
I get to teach the three-hour "Creative Writing: 10 Essential Elements" – eight times this fall at two community colleges. Would love to have some of you attend, and some of the folks you know. Please help me spread the word.
RICHLAND COLLEGE IN DALLAS (www.richlandcollege.edu, 972.238.6144)
11 October; 15 November
TRINITY VALLEY COMMUNITY COLLEGE (www.tvcc.edu, 903.675.6212)
28 September, Palestine; 1 October, Terrell; 3 October, Athens; 8 October, Athens; 26 October, Terrell; 12 November, Palestine
I also get to teach a new class – "Low-key Public Speaking" – at TVCC: 26 September, Palestine; 5 October, Terrell; 24 September, Athens; 17 October, Athens; 29 October, Terrell; 5 November, Palestine
You can always schedule a private class for small groups.
###
Let me hear from you. If you like this, please forward it to others who might like it. I have (mostly) poetry chapbooks available for $5 each or five for $20. I'll handle postage for folks on this list. Email or write me for details. The newest of more than 20 chapbooks is City Under a Tree, which I wrote while I was waiting to buy toner so I could make copies of the previous chapbook, Eve's World.
7391 FM 773
Ben Wheeler TX 75754-2501
(For you singer-songwriter fans, that's in Van Zandt County)
posted by Tom at
8:20 PM
