Welcome to our Poetry Platform. We are sharing some of our writers’ new poems every Monday. Thank you for reading and thank you for supporting them in their creative endeavor and Center for New Americans in our welcoming endeavor!
MY LOVE SAYS / Jodie Shapiro
My love says every
bread has a life of its own
breathing,
rising, falling, heating,
and rising again
Like us, breathing tangled in sleep
deep under covers
covers drift and sometimes fall
from one side to another, mostly to my loves side
And when it gets hot, my loves foot rests
outside as mine rests under only a sheet
As light seeps into this quiet space,
of breathing, rising and falling
within that moment just before full waking,
we splendidly curl towards each other, touching
in that space, we hoped the dog has not
found to slither, leaving us packed together like sardines.
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NATIONAL PALACE MUSEUM TAIPEI / Geo Cernada
Inside the silent museum
foreign outsiders snake along
ancient jade, classic scrolls, precious celadon
plundered loot of Chinese Empire.
Two pause in awe,
coiled open mouthed before
a Chinese brush painted scene
black ink on faded rice paper screen.
Wordlessly we
word guess
ideas of idiomatic symbols
sounds of Chinese characters
scrolled down the side.
Eyes slide
trace the swirling mountainside
higher to whisps of floating clouds;
then drop
suddenly aware of a couple curlicued
outlined by single brushstrokes
enroute winding path
to summit top.
Are we the outside couple
looking at the painting
or the inside couple
framed perhaps measuring
looking up at the clouds
how far up they are to touch—
perhaps watching us watching them?
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TWILIGHT / Katharine Price Nelson
Twilight, breath out.
Day is done, gone the sun,
from the fields, from the sky,
lingering only at torn edges,
where it meets beginning dark.
Breath in, pulls night closer.
Close enough to feel it dance,
on your cheek, your arm,
your imagination.
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REVERSE FIGHT / Loren Talbot
Holding fiercely to our sides, my weighted
head digs into your chest
The tears slide up and pool lake-like,
in our eyes. We release our clenched
fists and inhale. Words pink-pong,
as I fold laundry into perfect squares
at the bottom of the stairs. The hurt
you feel is nowhere near where I left it
in the house. The dog and I in lockstep,
our gait unapologetic witnessed by stars
I stand up enraged. Move to the sink,
clanging pans like a pirate
wondering why you had to reply,
are you really saying that again?
***********************************************
NOVEMBER FUNERAL PROCESSION / Maureen Carney
Dear Mary Lorraine,
Mother Theresa Calcutta
Has now welcomed you
Do you remember
Playing on Savin Hill Beach?
Weren’t those happy days?
From her porch Bea waves.
She came here from Curraghboy
Building life anew.
Bea and Ben found love.
Their Mary Jim and John raised us
From them twenty four
Here still twenty one
An hourglass with grains of sand
each a moment now
Do you remember
Warm sands of Dennisport beach?
Sands of forever!
Love goes on and on
Galway Bay to Savin Hill
Life is infinite