Kiss the Sun and burn my lips Blissful pain, blistering love, Blinding light reveals everything, No shifting shadows, grotesque exposure. Tempted by its golden shimmer, Though toxic fumes melt my lungs This paradoxical paradise Will be my heaven yet.
I will hold the Sun within my arms And melt my body to it. First my flesh and then my soul That I may become a part Of this Golden Globe Which lights the World.
Extinguish me that I may glow. Destroy me that I might grow. And learn to live… Without myself.
Big mountains! Clear and quiet river crossing between strong mountains. Colorado River! You are there and see the creation. God has touched this site. Enormous stones, trees, shrubs. In addition, wildflowers near you. Buses, trucks and cars were there, That day when I visited you. They were taking photos of that area. Marvelous area of the USA. The sky with clouds, the rain came in. A big bird flying on the sky. People were taking the best view, the best scene. Big mountains! Nice view! Beautiful site!
Sometimes after I lost my father I’d lose my mother.
Days leaked into summer after they zipped his black body bag- she slipped away, clipping the enormous yard for the first time, the lawnmower awkward, like pushing bricks.
Knuckles white, hands swollen red, her soft pink t-shirt clung to her back. Tears dripped from her eyes, like sweat.
Her white Keds stained green, she stopped to empty the bag, bare arms shining, lungs hungry. “Get the garbage bag” she yelled, I did and rushed to her. Bent down, face dripping, she struggled with the pregnant bag, broke the silver latch, sliced her hand.
She sunk the wound between her lips, eyes closed, kicked the bloated bag over and over, until globs of green peppered my bare feet.
“I’m-not-supposed-to-be-doing-this!” she yelled to the clouds, slumping to the sticky lawn, fists diving into the pile, blonde hair fuzzy from heat.
I stood clenching black plastic, the smell of cut lawn thick in my nose, I missed my mother, my parents.
She snatched the balmy plastic, plunged her arm deep into the chopped grass, began stuffing.
I watched her drag the fat body bag to the curb, fresh blades of grass stuck to her sweat. I lost her in the driveway mirage, yelled for her to wait, not to leave, not to climb inside.
I'm not an American and have never been there but I thought I'd enter anyway for the state that I have the most connection with because my only cousin lives there. This poem was written in honour of the work done recently by the University of Arizona into rheumatoid arthritis
Spice of Life
Joints begin to seize And movement is pain But never fear Help is at hand
A natural remedy To an age old problem Is found in the West From a source in the East
Eat curry Yes eat curry I don’t know which Just make sure it contains the vital ingredient
Kiss the Sun
ReplyDeleteKiss the Sun and burn my lips
Blissful pain, blistering love,
Blinding light reveals everything,
No shifting shadows, grotesque exposure.
Tempted by its golden shimmer,
Though toxic fumes melt my lungs
This paradoxical paradise
Will be my heaven yet.
I will hold the Sun within my arms
And melt my body to it.
First my flesh and then my soul
That I may become a part
Of this Golden Globe
Which lights the World.
Extinguish me that I may glow.
Destroy me that I might grow.
And learn to live…
Without myself.
GRAND CANYON
ReplyDeleteBig mountains!
Clear and quiet river
crossing between strong
mountains.
Colorado River!
You are there and see the creation.
God has touched this site.
Enormous stones, trees, shrubs.
In addition, wildflowers near you.
Buses, trucks and cars were there,
That day when I visited you.
They were taking photos of that area.
Marvelous area of the USA.
The sky with clouds,
the rain came in.
A big bird flying on the sky.
People were taking the best view,
the best scene.
Big mountains!
Nice view!
Beautiful site!
LETICIA PONTONI-COPYRIGHT 2006
Losing My Mother
ReplyDeleteSometimes after I lost my father
I’d lose my mother.
Days leaked into summer after they zipped
his black body bag-
she slipped away, clipping the enormous yard
for the first time,
the lawnmower awkward, like pushing bricks.
Knuckles white, hands swollen red,
her soft pink t-shirt clung to her back.
Tears dripped from her eyes, like sweat.
Her white Keds stained green,
she stopped to empty the bag,
bare arms shining, lungs hungry.
“Get the garbage bag” she yelled,
I did and rushed to her.
Bent down, face dripping,
she struggled with the pregnant bag,
broke the silver latch, sliced her hand.
She sunk the wound between her lips, eyes closed,
kicked the bloated bag over and over, until
globs of green peppered my bare feet.
“I’m-not-supposed-to-be-doing-this!” she yelled to the clouds,
slumping to the sticky lawn, fists diving into the pile,
blonde hair fuzzy from heat.
I stood clenching black plastic, the smell of cut lawn
thick in my nose, I missed my mother,
my parents.
She snatched the balmy plastic, plunged her arm
deep into the chopped grass, began stuffing.
I watched her drag the fat body bag to the curb,
fresh blades of grass stuck to her sweat.
I lost her in the driveway mirage,
yelled for her to wait, not to leave,
not to climb inside.
lost again
ReplyDeleteI’ve found my own way; so I thought
learned I’ve learned nothing
searching for meaning
maybe a soulmate
seems I’m wrong just when I though
weren’t you with me holding my hand
you let it go, it seems not
quick to find a soulmate
still now I press on
through dreaming day’s night
with me holding my hand
I'm not an American and have never been there but I thought I'd enter anyway for the state that I have the most connection with because my only cousin lives there.
ReplyDeleteThis poem was written in honour of the work done recently by the University of Arizona into rheumatoid arthritis
Spice of Life
Joints begin to seize
And movement is pain
But never fear
Help is at hand
A natural remedy
To an age old problem
Is found in the West
From a source in the East
Eat curry
Yes eat curry
I don’t know which
Just make sure it contains the vital ingredient
Turmeric
© Luke Harrison 2006