| Poetry |
surrender Copper hair on fire, a reddened after noon sun and golden flecks from the corners Smattering breezes billow secret waves and cryptic blue depths meet magnetic optical storms. Ley line energies spark, arias around the head Jump lurch launch, quiver, oh, entanglement anticipating connection real touch, bruised lips, juicy saliva, sweet and licked, savagely savored mmmmmmmm Teased, tickled pink opening and falling in warm, hot, hotter and hottest, beautifully damned Ahhhhhhhhhhhh Surrender. Lee Gooden 12/20/06 PORK AVENUE by Lee Gooden We'd gather our circle of stomachs like pigs at a trough Father, with a flick of his Elvis hair and a clink of ice cubes in the ever present gallon ice tea pitcher Announced, the feeding will begin We guarded our plates with Starving dog tenacity, faces lowered, we forked food without breath, without taste. Father washed down his lack of couth with glass after glass of cold tea, and sampled off of unsuspected plates and guests who did not use their paws and arms to hug their food. Oinks and squeals and a good rooting. a couple of choking episodes, some moans and belches and even flatulence, followed by soft giggling and a contest of screams, until one day Mother, had, had enough and stabbed him in the hand with her fork. He stopped his food trespasses For awhile HEAVY HANDS Since I can remember I’ve always felt like Everybody was in the ‘know’ But me, As if there was knowledge Hidden, Simple truths and revelations That I never grasped, Allowing those who Were informed to Operate within their Their illicit guide lines And whispered parameters That I didn’t and that I don’t understand. They have this edge Over me, An ‘in’ I never received Or simply over looked. It’s not a conspiracy Or intended vindictiveness, I only missed something, Somewhere. I was too busy floating To a BeeGee’s hook, Marveling at Manilow, Banging my head with Ozzy And wondering where the Silver in the Beatles disappeared. I was too absorbed with Pip, Huck, Jim, Wart and second Guessing the deductions of Encyclopedia Brown, Sally Kimball’s Legs and Bugs Meany’s brutality. I was too into the movie Adaptations of childhood books While my peers used their grimy Fingers to make shadow signals And peace signs on the blank white screens I held my tears in check, My emotions tightly Impacted in the back Of my eyes with the will Of my heavy hands, My fists forced Into the sockets To equalize the pressure, My classmate’s murmurs Raised to one voice’s incoherent Shout. What was wrong with me? And, What is wrong with me Now, That I have those same Needling voices tickle Me to tears and everybody Else seems to take things in Stride, And leave me, 3-4 steps Behind, Their shadows Where I wring my Heavy, heavy hands To the supplication Of my, Incomprehension. © copyright Lee Gooden 2007 |