Last Walk and Other Poems by John Grey

LAST WALK

On his last painful walk
across his land,
he stopped for a moment
at the sight of something moving
on the far edge of the field,
a canine shape
but too big for a fox,
too small for a coyote
and, in the way it loped,
paused and raised its head
as if about to howl,
no dog.

With air almost too humid for breathing
and Summer haze
watering the distances
and his weakening eyes
drawing back inside his head,
there was no way
he could see it clear.

But they stood there,
face to face,
neither willing to make the first move
to come closer.

They were like estranged lovers,
a father and son who hadn’t spoken in years,
something that needed to be done
and the someone who didn’t do it,
an opportunity and the one who didn’t take it.

It was his land.
And, most probably, it was his creature.

 

 

 

IS THERE ENOUGH TO PAINT A PICTURE?

The snails are crawling across the pathway
from weeds to blue star cultivar.
A spider creeps across the leaves.
I hover somewhere between work to be done
and contemplation.
A fine drizzle says it’s April.
The birds trill courting songs.
1 believe the insects do as well.
I could seed the garden.
Or feel the fine drops on my cheeks.

Bees buzz down to business.
Embedded in paper huts,
it’s still not the wasps’ call.
The clouds are flat gray
but not ominous.
The water they spill is nimble.

It’s not a lovely scene.
That’s why I can go out into it
and get a job done
without fear of spoiling someone’s
oil on canvas.
But there’s enough there
to engage the heart,
to inform the brain,
that it’s not all about being useful.

A titmouse flies down to the feeder.
as if its sparkling cheery cry
will tilt the scales
to the side of wonderment.
It doesn’t
but I’m spellbound by the attempt.

 

 

 

SHEDDING

In a dark war-zone,
a snake crawls through
a trench of twigs and leaves
in search of hard rubbing implements
to scrape off its tired outer layer.

But the demon of many a mouse hole
is now a prey animal itself,
exposed by shafts of moonlight
in the land of the predator’s trained eye.

The reptile chafes against
the rough edge of a rock,
insect boudoirs of bark.
Anything to pry itself free from
three months’ worth of keratin.

A distant hoot of a great horned owl
sets off vibrations in the snake’s skull
but it still continues to grate and grind,
tiny sounds that implicate itself.

But instinct’s wired for life and death.
Survival doesn’t differentiate.

John  Grey

via…………..Split Lip

John Grey is an Australian born poet. Recently published in Oyez Review, Rockhurst Review and Spindrift with work upcoming in New Plains Review, Big Muddy Review, Willow Review and Louisiana Literature.

Christmas for the birds poem by Joan Pond

Cerulean Light
by Joan Pond

On Greenwich Avenue,
Fred festooned a fir with lights.
“Jesus,” he said. “It just ain”t right.
I bought this string at CVS
and it”s already broke.
This Christmas stuff”s for the birds.
Man, it”s a joke.
I got no wife and my whole life”s changed.”
But when I shook his hand,
the blue lights lit.
“Holy shit!” he said. “It”s a miracle.”
And we stood,
bathed in cerulean light.

***

Originally published at Artvilla.com December 7 2004

Poems That Make Grown Men Cry. Richard Dawkins et al …

poems_050214_poster

Grown men aren’t supposed to cry. Anthony and Ben Holden, and Kate Allen (Director, Amnesty International UK), introduce readings from poems that haunt a host of eminent men; they explain why, in words as moving as the poems themselves.

With Melvyn Bragg, Richard Dawkins, Ian McEwan, Richard Eyre, Mike Leigh, Simon McBurney, Ben Okri, Simon Russell Beale and Simon Schama.

 
 
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Poem Nantucket Fish Out Of Water Poem by Joan Pond

A Fish Out of Water

So far from ocean,

here.

No pounding waves or crashing surf.

As Nantucket weighs,

heavy and deep.

In my sleep

I hear bell-buoys.

It”s only a dehumidifier

droning,

as the engine of a ship.

Yet,

I turn and list

avoiding shoals and reefs.

Tossing in my sleep,

I”m a fish on dry land

with a sered eye

of rainbow.

Ship-wrecked.

I dream

of

home.

***

Grains of Sand Poem by Joan Pond

Grains Of Sand
by Joan Pond

The sound of thunder,
and I”ll stand,
transfixed,
recalling a day with no boats on a lake,
only bull-heads darted toward the underpinnings of a dock
and concentric rings of water infinitely expanding.
I shouldn”t have taken him for granted
but savoured each moment,
holding them as grains of sand
not letting them slip to shore.
That moment,
would never be repeated;
only recalled when rings of water
infinitely expand
on the surface
of a lake.

***

James Joyce Reads ‘Anna Livia Plurabelle’ from Finnegans Wake

coulthart_joyce

James Joyce was born in Dublin on February 2, 1882, and wrote in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man: “Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.”

This is an August 1929 recording of Joyce reading a melodious passage from the “Anna Livia Plurabelle” chapter of his Work in Progress, which would be published ten years later as Finnegans Wake. The recording was made in Cambridge, England, at the arrangement of Joyce’s friend and publisher Sylvia Beach. “How beautiful the ‘Anna Livia’ recording is,” wrote Beach in her memoir, Shakespeare and Company, “and how amusing Joyce’s rendering of an Irish washerwoman’s brogue!”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1FcSGDgU8Q#t=148

JJ.10-punt

Deich bPunt – The Irish Ten-Pound note, first issued in 1993. Both sides are depicted, the front with Joyce’s portrait, and the back a tribute to Anna Livia Plurabelle. (This note almost did not make it back to the States – by our last day in Ireland, it quickly became, let us say, emergency funds; and was nearly traded for a bottle of duty-free on the way out of the country….) http://www.themodernword.com/joyce/joyce_images.html

you may also like Robin’s Laminations in Lacquer Poem at our new Poetry Life and Times. Robin is now our editor & admin at editor@artvilla.com & robin@artvilla.com and you can also visit our Face Book sites at www.facebook.com/Artvilla.com & www.facebook.com/PoetryLifeTimes

The Night Bird’s Last Tear. 3 Video Poems. Zayra Yves

Zayra Yves Picture

 

Zayra’s creative writing is published in numerous print journals, anthologies, on-line e-zines and magazines: The Zimbabwe Situation, Panhandler Quarterly, Voices for Africa, Eyes of the Poet, Kreativ, Reflections IIT Madras (India), Edge Life Magazine, Poetry Life & Times, Astropoetica, Alehouse Press, 34th Parallel, Feeling is First, Memoir (and), Aquillrelle, The Enchanting Verses International Journal and The Cherry Muse.

She has appeared as a featured artist and/or guest speaker at: New Sun Celebration; CIIS California Institute of Integral Studies; on Ken Wilber’s Integral Naked (2006 & 2007);OneMindVillage; West Marin Community Radio; SW Radio Africa; North Western University Chicago; Zimvibes; Coolfire (UK); Women’s Radio Network; Perfectly Said; Mazungue Studio One; TWiN (UK); Genpo Roshi and Bill Harris’ Big Heart/Big Mind seminiar in LA; UltraFeel TV; UniVerse of Poetry; BlogTalk Radio, The Awareness Network and Today’s Revolutionary Women of Color.

Awards include:

In 2010 Zayra was the winning poet from the “An African Legend: White Lions and Leopards” contest 2010.  She joined the conservation team at Tsau where the White Lions live in Timbavati, South Africa, as her prize, plus publication in the book.

In 2012 she received the World Poetry Empowered Poet 2012 award beside several other amazing International poets at the World Poetry Canada & International Peace Festival 2012.

In 2013 she received the “Woman of Goodwill Award 2013” and “Plaque of Appreciation” for her role as a Panelist at Pentasi B in the Philippines.

Her short story “Exit Ashes, Exit Blues, Exit This Life” won an honorable mention in Francis Ford Coppola’s Zoetrope All Story contest.

Zayra’s fine art collection has appeared from 1998 to present at the following California locations: Dore Dore Gallery, San Mateo; Somar Gallery, San Francisco; UC Berkeley, San Francisco Campus; Body Harmony, San Francisco; Dana Street Cafe, Mountain View; Cafe Libro, Mountain View; Maitri Art Show & Auction, Embarcadero Center; Cad’s Coffee Shop, Los Osos; One World Cafe, San Francisco; The Hive Gallery, Los Angeles; The Artist’s Alley, San Francisco.

She has four audio collections:

 1.) Crowned Compassion
2.) Sleep in the Sea Tonight with Me
3.) Retrograde Motion
4.) Lanterns

In addition, she is the author of four books:

1.) Empty as Nirvana
2.) Ordinary Substance
3.) Color Me Pomegranate
4.) Leaving You Unpainted
5.) Floating in the Dark

You can purchase these collections directly on line or for more information send an email to: express.positive@gmail.com.

Currently she is producing a new audio recording and a fine art collection.

www.zayrayves.com

***

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