Persephone at One-Eyed Jack's

This poem will be published in Metaphor 2012 Edition (coming soon).

 

Persephone at One-Eyed Jacks

Succulent plum serpentines through the smoke haze,

beckoning that which stalks to seek a cooling dew.

Persephone at the bar slouched between a biker and his old lady,

the bottle of Jack at her elbow breathes in wolfishly

as she baits with a stiletto hanging from her toe.

Smoke tendrils wreath about her like dirty moths

attracted by the light glinting off her curved cheek.

The cigarette on her lips nearly plummets

as she bears canines for oaths of untasted wildness,

teething out staggering drunkenness and

pulling tight the chased frenzy upon which we feed.

As Twilight Falls

This poem won 1st place in Weber State's Writing Center Contest in the fall of 2011.

As Twilight Falls

The rusty sweetness of yams

dug up from the garden,

dirt beneath half-moon fingernails,

the pungent taste of radishes,

bitter fruit of the earth

 giving up her children after

she thought she’d buried them safely

beneath the dark soil.

Snap-peas that you used to call

snap-crackle peas because of the sound

they made when your small hands

snagged them from the vines.

The sun, like Rumpelstiltskin, illuminating

the golden strands of your hair.

The worms and beetles were your playmates,

counted as close friends, and when the rains fell,

how you buried them all again in the dirt so carefully,

so they wouldn’t know pain, wouldn’t dry out when the sun returned.

Though you have since made your bed amongst the beetles,

when the toad in our garden sings as twilight falls, and

the lavender shadows wrap around me like your little arms,

I sigh, knowing how Rapunzel once walked the earth here with me.

Here's a few links; they will be posting all the winners' work soon:

http://apps.weber.edu/WSUImages/WritingCenter/Writing%20Contest/WC%20Contest%20Winner%27s%20Flier%202.PDF

http://www.weber.edu/WritingCenter/WC/VerbalEquinox.html

 

 

Sunday Chess in the Park

I'm going to make this a blog about poetry and writing. As such, I'll put the first poem that I've published (in the 2011 Edition of Metaphor, Weber State's Literary Journal).

Sunday Chess in the Park

The two old men meet,

Cane and metal walker set to the side of the picnic table.

Expressions mirror each other like pieces of the moon.

Hats shade their eyes; shaking hands move the pieces.

 Each considers the other.

The wars they have been in lie in wooden drawers,

Purple hearts for their grandchildren to run their hands over.

The sound of airplanes and gunfire replaced

By the sound of Red-breasted birds and Bluejays chirping in the trees.

Each makes his move, carefully considering the chipped pieces.

Checkmate.

They salute and return each Sunday