I want to capture a poem; There are thousands swirling In my midnight room. I stalked one into the kitchen Where it joined me for a graham cracker And peanut butter sandwich (crunchy style) Along with a fistful of Fritos. Back in bed, One shared my pillow and asked ridiculous questions like— What is the first name of Aristotle? And….. Why the hell do you keep doing this? I am in deep desire for the orgasmic climax Of a poem sought and seduced I nto a stand still While these dervish lines flying Around my room avoid me, yet tease with Flash glimpsed images. There is no satiety without the sentences lying Layer by layer on a page Like the blankets on this bed of torture Where the very best my mind can muster Escapes Before congealing into meaning. I sift through a thousand partial pictures looking For that nascent combination of words That will condense, make sense and lead to Parturition
Bonnie Bostrom has been writing poetry since she mastered cursive. She has published eight books, both solo and in collaboration: The WayShowers, Women Facing Retirement: A Time For Self-Reflection, Quicksilver Dreams, Buddha Nature of the Soutwest, Image & Word: A Dialectic, Born Crazy, Love, Always Love, and Duet. Born Crazy, a memoir, received an Eric Hoffer Finalist Award. She lives in New Mexico with her husband, Jim. Her website is www.bonniebostrom.com.