I would suffer
a thousand summers
if at their end
we could walk
hand in hand
through autumn rain
Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’
Clarity
Posted in Poetry, tagged creative writing, love, modern poetry, Poetry, Writing on 14 Nov 2024| Leave a Comment »
The Waiting
Posted in Poetry, Politics, tagged election 2024, election day, modern poetry, Poetry on 04 Nov 2024| Leave a Comment »
Stop the clocks
There is no point in watching
Time slows and thickens
Honey left too long
On the shelf
Crystalline
Opaque
The decision approaches
The nation argues
A fractious couple at a deserted crossroads
Without signposts or map
Not knowing
This way or that
Ahead or back
Only that here is not where
They want to be
Afterblow
Posted in Poetry, Seattle, tagged autumn colors, creative writing, modern poetry, nature, Poetry, Seattle, windstorm on 20 Oct 2024| Leave a Comment »
walking dawn-dewed streets
amid memories of
the night’s groaning wind
branches and twigs
bony remnants
cast around
leeward silhouettes
of gold leaf and rusted needles
The Heart of It All
Posted in Poetry, tagged creative writing, grief, loss, Memorial, modern poetry, mourning, Poetry on 07 Oct 2024| 1 Comment »
There is no language of loss,
no poem, no song, no elegy of agony
that does aught but sketch
the barest dimensions
of our experience
Loss is not a place, it does not reside,
not in an empty temple, eager with echoes,
nor some vasty stump-studded waste
that sups on our anguish,
insatiable
It is a state, a condition,
a matrix of broken love
that whirls its knife-edged path
through the essential core
of our soul
It cannot be avoided or removed,
assuaged or denied or avenged
but only borne, suffered, survived,
and accepted by
the bonds of memory
Rotation
Posted in Creativity, Poetry, tagged autumn, creative writing, Poetry, quiet living, seasons, Writing on 26 Sep 2024| Leave a Comment »
Summer Nights
Posted in Creativity, Poetry, Seattle, tagged lightning, modern poetry, nature, Poetry, Seattle, summer nights, thundershower, thunderstorm on 18 Aug 2024| 2 Comments »
for some it is
the Moon’s occultation of Saturn or
the needle strikes of Perseids across a spangled sky
that speeds their heart
but for me it is
a late summer evening when
the world is parchment
I step out onto the front stoop while the wind
swollen with the scent of moisture
shakes out the carpets of August
sending heat-baked dust over distant hills
the stars take the night off as
the clouds drop down
so close I can
smell them touch them feel them seeping into my skin and
the air thicks with promise until
a flash sparks fire miles above
lighting the jumbled sky
I know it is coming I know the treat is coming
the respite from dry weeks sere days withered leaves but
it takes its time walking not running toward my eagerness
teasing me with coming attractions so mesmerizing that
when the rain begins I am surprised
it is so strong so hard so heavy that
my mind wonders about the terminal velocity of a raindrop the size of a pea and
if the drops fall as spheres or are deformed by their earthward plunge and
bang
the storm is here has crossed the ridge is overhead
its flares of light draw inward focus concentrate spin themselves into jagged threads
neighbors come out from barbecues and movie nights to
look up
exclaim at the brilliance
gasp at claps that slap their cheeks
laughing in sheer childish joy at the power of the moment and
in that moment the magic of our world ushers us into its realm
we feel a part of it enjoy it for exactly what it is
the raw audacity of it the confidence as if nothing can stand against it and survive
it is intoxicating and I am drunk with it all
happily consumed and consuming
a tiny mote in the vastness
just me
alone on the front stoop
watching nature play its greatest anthem while
I hum along with the familiar tune
that’s what does it
for me
Photo: Tim Durkan Photography
Edge of Forever
Posted in Creativity, Poetry, tagged creative writing, Creativity, modern poetry, mortality, Poetry on 23 May 2024| Leave a Comment »
Kurt R.A. Giambastiani 