Winter in New England and other poems

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    Winter in New England and other poems


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    Winter in New England

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    Night drops like a hammer.

    All day sludge grey snow,

    slivers of ice.   Fear of falling

    on paths covered with snow.

    Night drops like a hammer

    Driving through white outs

    listening as the car motor

    wheezes while climbing hills.

    Night drops like a hammer.

    Home now with only my

    strength, my silence and

    no trace of blue in the sky.

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    Jazz

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    the kitchen sits

    in fruit soup…

    steamed apricot

    mango shadow

    down thru spinning

    smoke into hot light

    blink beat

    body ends dangle

    lead eye skin cement

    high on tongue

    night pasted among

    buildings Styrofoam clouds

    moon hung beneath billboard

    rolling pass wet

    rocked streets

    soul tramp

    diamond panhandlers watch

    paper birds slices of

    the daily news drift in air

    comes cool ether

    whispers up door

    climbing dusty corridor

    tree windows lapping lisp

    door slams again noise again

    then none void nothing syncopates

    noise again door slams tree bare frozen

    caught in the image of 7 candles

    within 7 candles flames of air

    7 light bulbs growing out of each other

    7 silver circles coined from 7 silver rings

    clear as blazing sheets

    of glass yet

    vague as dust

    an ice cube on wood table

    in front of crushed velvet

    melt

    poured

    peeled

    when this sky now boiling with

    stars is strapped black

    in pinched air thru sucked mind

    swimming pass spaced time

    will be one silent

    note up.

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    Eve Speaks

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    Eve speaks

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    Although just one snake is well known

    in that so-called paradise,  actually

    there were tons of them.

    When we ran away, I was never so

    happy.  My feet no longer touching

    swarms of mushy poison.

    Fruit smelled to high heaven in Eden but

    berries tasted yum yum good as we filled

    our faces hurrying happily to the east.

    Adam replies

     

    She’s so beautiful.  I would have

    followed her to the ends of earth.

    I am her captive then and now.

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    Present 

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    You gave me
    five brown pods
    to grow in
    my garden bed.

    I put them
    in a glass jar
    with my locket.

    Five brown pods
    winding through
    heaven. Weaving
    night with winter
    wishes for wisteria.

    In a flower dress
    wandering over
    perfumed fields
    I sleepwalk
    searching for
    my golden locket
    and your embrace.

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    Blue Your Eyes

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    Blue your eyes

    this edge of snow

    in silent sky.

    Brown eyes soft

    tree bark patterns as

    yellow flicks

    sparkle in wintry sun.

    And now it seems

    your eyes are green

    green as spruce

    turning to grey eyes

    glancing across as if

    from a mountainside.

    Your eyes two violets

    hidden beneath frost.

    Close your eyes

    as sleepless stars

    glide through night

    in aerial ballet.

    Black coal eyes

    glowing on fire

    red flames leaping

    out of eyes burning

    blue your eyes.

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