Showing posts with label 26 Oct 22. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 26 Oct 22. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 26, 2022

Blue Sky at Morning

Tell the anthropologists
Or linguists where you born,
And they might well be able

To tell you whether you learned
Color words for shades of blue
In the first language you knew.

In English, world’s number one
Number two language for now,
Dictionaries bloom with blues,

And novelists and poets,
Composers, pop song writers,
Entertainment spectacles,

And serious essayists
Deploy shadowy legions
Of subtly turned terms for blue.

There are books on blue and blues,
Poems on how the blue of beets
Comes and goes . . . shadow of weeds

Where beets grew. But maybe you
Grew up in one of many
Worlds without words for haint blue,

Or cerulean, royal,
Indigo, or any blue,
Just just terms for red, bright, and dark,

For instance, and then, in those
Shadows, many metaphors
Which English would call the blues.

Stop Being So Cynical and Tell Us the Truth

Pick a lane. People care
About power, power
And sway over people.

Money and status serve
Power and sway. Why not
Be honest about this?

Boast all you want, but don’t
Admit to what you want,
Don’t admit to wanting.

Having power and sway
Is impressive, but hide
Craving power and sway.

Admitting what you want,
To others, to yourself,
Risks your chance to grab it.

Power and sway, power
And sway. Keep switching lanes
Hunting power and sway.

Lamp Room Poem

Outside, it’s cold,
Dark, and clouded.
You’ve stood out there
Hugging your chest,

Chanting the poems
You’ve memorized
For nobody.
You’ve come back in

To electric
Luxuriance,
Purring heater,
Golden lampshade.

Now what? Small thing
In a firm chair,
Compose yourself.
Morning’s coming.

Dark Room Poem

If you’re sighted,
A dark room feels
Confusingly
Empty and full.

The rich details
Of light are gone,
But you’re aware
Of what’s not there.

Some of it, you
Remember, but
The rest presses
On you, unknown.

You’re the black stage
Without a play,
Solo, crowded
In your silence.