The Corn Cake Lady
The predawn sidewalk
gray and cold
just me, just me
and a thin brown dog
sniffing at a
pile of motley treasure.
I stumble by
hoping he has
struck it rich.
But up ahead,
some warmth waves deck the
grim gray sky.
The corn cake lady
street grill sizzling
flipping corn cakes
filled with thick
and gooey cheese,
so hot, so greasy,
so strong.
The sidewalk’s warmer now,
and happier,
as I move on,
Eating half
And leaving half
for the thin brown dog.
dandelion de la Rue May 30, 2012
She
When she whispers
like the sounds a skirt makes,
the sounds the leaves make,
the sounds the wind makes
early, when the birds sing like
the peaceful sound of the brook
when she speaks
like the rain itself
on the roof,
it’s the sound the sunshine makes
in the yard,
the sound the moonlight makes,
the sound of a kind thought,
the sounds the clouds make,
and the sounds the sun makes
setting and rising
***
david michael jackson Nov 29 2004 editors@artvilla.com
Chromium
Janet Kuypers
from the “ Periodic Table of Poetry” series
Closing the door
to my stainless steel refrigerator,
I thought about the popularity
of stainless steel;
everyone wants to get
stainless steel fronts
for all of their kitchen appliances.
Costs more at the store,
but that’s the price for looking good.
So I thought, stainless steel,
okay, what is that, iron?
But my wrought iron bed frame
and sets of candle holders
are pretty much black,
some of it’s rusting,
so what do they do
to make this iron a shiny,
different kind of metal?
I looked online
and the answer
was 24.
Not 42, not the meaning of life,
but the atomic number.
You know, when I turned 24 at work,
our rep from our press called me,
and I told him it was my birthday.
So he asked me how old I was,
and I said 42.
He sounded surprised, so I told him,
“Oh, you didn’t ask me
how old I felt.
I’m 24.”
But really, chromium
is atomic element number 24,
and to make stainless steel
they add over ten percent
of chromium to the iron to form
a steel alloy that doesn’t corrode.
(Good thing
my refrigerator
won’t rust…)
So maybe it’s the
magnetic properties of chromium
that make this metal so appealing
to people now…
But this protective element
has protected weaponry
from Chinese dynasties
thousands of years ago,
so the Chinese knew,
even then,
that coating things with
this magnetic metallic element
would stop corrosion.
I mean, we’ve all heard
of things that are
chrome plated, right?
Chromium not only makes things
last longer, but
chromium is also known for
its luster when polished —
which really makes
for a great sell.
Just go to any hangout
for motorcyclists,
probably on any summer
Sunday morning,
and see the parked line-up
of one motorcycle after another,
each outdoing each other
with decorative chrome plating…
But then I thought…
Chromium’s even used
as chrome yellow dye
for school buses…
Chromium salts are used
for wood preservatives
and tanning leather…
The refractory applications
of chromium even work
for blast furnaces, cement kilns,
molds for the firing of bricks
and also for the casting of metals.
I guess chromium can really
extend the life
of what we see around us…
So I guess it’s fitting
that when my birthday
coincided with this element,
I jokingly said
that the number in question
was actually the answer
to life, the universe,
and everything…
In ancient times also
there were mind explorers,
body worshipers,
disappointments to their mothers.
When time was a blessing
on a too tight rope
they were initiated into
the hearts of baboons.
Offerings above, please.
Bodies below.
As the dead sun sleeps
in the netherworld each night
spirits return to their mummies.
Ancestors pray.
May their bones be knit together,
their members be made firm.
Belinda Subraman
A TINY BIT OF GRASS
I saw this bird today.
It was just a brief instant
I was in a parking lot headed to
a job.
He was at the edge of the lot in a tiny bit of grass we had left him.
There was this instant that I knew
for certain,
for absolute certain,
that this bird was important.
So important that I would remember the motion of his body as he
paused for an instant to
look at me.
So important that I would remember
how he moved,
as important as a red wheelbarrow,
or a player on a stage,
he raised his wings
and made that poking motion at the ground and
he was important,
not just another bird,
noticed by just another person
because there is no such thing as
just another bird
or just another person.
There is only one bird
only one
person.
and yet I pause in this twilight moment to ponder
was this the same bird
let loose above the streets of paris
in ’45
or the same bird who called to chopin
there is only one bird,
one person
and we paused, that bird and I
we paused to
notice each other and then, like good soldiers
we continued on to
our
jobs
bird poem- David Michael Jackson 2005 editors@artvilla.com
You may also like my shoes poem
***