My husband's poetry

Category: Family

  • Footstool

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    A poem from a friend about being drunk on Sunday reminded me of the time when I was eighteen and read Easter Sunday Scriptures at sunrise services high on LSD. I don’t remember which scriptures I read, but I remember the light through the stain glass just above the head of Jesus standing on the…

  • Morning lament

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    The gate of the mystic garden is open It is not locked or hidden Often, I become lost in traffic And do not have time to mark my trail or stay once I arrive 10-17-22

  • Needing a news break

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Reading the news, I remember how my parents drew nearer death and seemed to take on a different glow telling childhood stories When missiles approach Kyiv do the souls at ground zero take on a special glow before they incinerate? 10-17-22

  • Rosh Hashanah

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    09/26 – this poem is for all my Jewish friends: Just before the sun crashed in the west, a distance horn floated through trees we did not plant, summoning Fort Jackson’s troops to mess. My ribs ached from a forgotten injury and I had a strange craving for apple sauce. I resisted its sweetness, reaffirmed…

  • Biopsy of fear

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Old man steps out his back door into darkness, Shivers with apprehension that borders on fear, Childhood bogeymen who lurk in the dark. He gathers himself, reaches down for old habits: Steps off his porch, walks towards the woods, Finds a darker place among the shadows, Closes his eyes and waits for fear to become…

  • Deep blue coffee cup

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    by

    cfblack
    in

    Dawn in the park Deep blue coffee cup You can’t remember Which grandchild gifted the cup And that’s okay Because you imagine each one 9-13-22

  • Momma said

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    Momma said, Take your shoes off on the back porch, I just mopped the floor. Leave you muddy clothes out there, too and keep your dirty hands off my clean wall. Momma said, Come eat, clear your plate before TV, quit picking on your sisters or I’ll beat knots on your head. Momma said, It’s…

  • migrations

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    The geese have been gone two weeks now Only the heron and turtles remain. Our grandson and his girl friend fly home to Indiana Saturday. Our quiet routine returns until next summer. We miss the solitude of loneliness And the noise and bustle of family, But if we must choose between the two We will…

  • larva

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Excuse me, I fantasize I saw your mother Before Autumn’s Killing frost Perched high up On a bush Warming herself In early morning light Unfolding her wings …to soar 7-27-22 from my morning walking meditation and thinking of the attack on women’s rights

  • Thread

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Because we didn’t have money to throw away, mom would use pieces of thread to sew shut holes in our storm door screen and keep the flies and skeeters outside Because I don’t have memories to throw away, I will find pieces of thread to sew shut holes in our back porch screen and keep…