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Contents: Four Birds | Cradle Song | Dear Amanda | Family Dinner at the Moorings | Emperor
Four Birds Written in response to 9/11/01.
a nation awakes and looks to clear skies
then suddenly turned, their destinations denied four birds rise ... and die
the shadow of four birds across a nation lies
a wounded country screams and cries
Cradle Song Written in response to the war on Afghanistan following the terrorist attacks.
Just a little war, baby war, won't hurt a soul.
And anyone who helps them is a terrorist themselves.
Little war, baby war, they can't hurt us, not again.
It'll be like stepping on a bug (squish!) trust us. Trust us.
It's me - your best friend - okay so it was Seventeen years ago, but friendship is forever Right? Remember our first sleepover, telling ghost stories In a tent in the backyard under the yellow gaze Of the emergency flashlight? I tried to tell that stupid one About the big spooky house where Inside there was a room and a closet and a box And inside the box there was a MOUSE I messed it up, but you laughed anyway. You taught me to climb trees. On that big old oak in the backyard With a little flat spot in the middle We hung sheets around it and it was a fortress. You rode a bright red bike that carried you Farther and faster than I could follow. Your golden curls fell over your face when you laughed - I think you were my first crush. Why haven't you written me before? I have a blue hair band that I think might be yours From that day we went to the park and built sandcastles. I'm so happy to talk to you at last - Isn't it just like old times? I'll come over to your house tomorrow And we'll drink cherry kool-aid and chew grape bubble gum And talk to the beetles in the grass. Your friend, Heather
Another class assignment. This one was to be written in response to one of the poems we read in class. One of them, Aurora Harris' Amidst Interruption, did some interesting things with physical structure, and I attempted to work with those ideas here. Family Dinner at the Moorings
Under the hum of candelit conversation
My fingers hide
Twisting themselves into tangled knots.
The Chardonnay arrives, borne by a starched and pressed waiter
I choke on its bitterness.
Three generations are here surrounding me -
Blood, thicker than water, is here as thin and sharp
As the chilly breeze off the bay.
This afternoon I was clinging to a sheer cliff
Feeling the glory of the sea wind against my face
Alone, alive
And now I am here, feeling my stockings itch beneath
The velvet dress Aunt Karen thought was so becoming.
I want to go home. This is not home,
This is a crowd of strangers who claim
My time and my energy based on some threadbare commonality of genes
Honor and respect in exchange for obedience and proper behavior.
(no wonder my mother went mad.)
How was Deer Island? the matriarch asks.
Oh, it was dull - nothing but a few rocks.
Rocks?
Did you even see them, touch them, they're the soul
of this place!
A soul that's been coated in orchid-scented perfume
And set on display for a million visitors a year.
Of course I say nothing.
I could rebel - I could run out of this restaurant screaming
Spilling glasses of champagne and tripping other matriarchs
Leading their clan in to dine in elegance.
If I did, I'd be dead
Dead
DEAD
but at least I'd be out of here.
The main course makes its appearance.
My grandmother sends her lobster back.
It's overdone, and she wants another vodka.
My shrimp are sweet and deliciously juicy
They taste dry as dust
Dust
DUST
The third poem assignment. This was to be a response to a piece of music or art. I chose to write about Beethoven's 5th Piano Concerto, also called the "Emperor." As a pianist, this piece has special meaning for me as the pinnacle of musical achievement. Ideally it should be read aloud; the italics and underlines are meant as inflection guidelines for the reader. "...And God gave us music that we might pray without words." --Anonymous
Out of emptiness it begins - a sound so full and alive I think my heart might break if it ended, The universe might end if these sounds did not call into being The threads of joy and wonder and painful ecstasy Without which all we know would sink into nothingness. My fingers strain to grasp the music but my hands are not quite big enough to hold it all Yet I am not limited, I am set free, of body and society and gravity And walk for a moment among the stars, knowing With a certainty strong as diamond that I will accomplish what I desire If I only will it to be. And no man may stand in my way. In the waking world I know the concept of a God is absurd. But in this dream, more real than real, I believe That if God does not exist, then he is created by this music And the man who created it is deified every time it is played. I salute you, Emperor! You are a monument To the greatest that man has ever been And all that he can become. We are all gods. We are all immortal. If man is capable of this beauty and fire There is nothing we cannot do. I will play this piece. I will walk among the stars. I will live forever.
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