My husband's poetry

Category: poetry

  • Apologies to Kahlil Gibran

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    In the shade sat a prophet a spiritual superhero – so to say tired of a world always in travail tired of always being on call to work miracles they decided they no longer needed to work miracles and accepted death as their greatest miracle

  • Wallace Stevens revisited

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Empire in apocalyptic disrepair The end is near Soggy cone Drips ice cream down arm and chin Mother says, “Silly boy – throw it out, wipe your chin, there’s always more.” 6-26-22

  • haiku for Edgar

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    black feathered roadkill a modern world casualty nevermore to speak 6-27-22

  • Upon a hill

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , , , ,

    Upon a hill there stands a house, Windows gaze out softly on the farm, Dawn wakes quiet as a mouse. Furrows stitch fields like hems on a blouse Each row a hymn, each row a psalm, Upon a hill there stands a house. Winds over hay, a gentle spouse, Lingers warm, protective and calm, Dawn…

  • open mic

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in

    I sit behind you, your head bobs up and down your feet manipulate pedals sustain, reverb, percussion, a looper button welcomes a band inside your head I cannot see your fingers, your face, your mouth, eyes staring off in space how many hours of practice led you here to play for me, for them, for…

  • Lang’s song about love

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    I wake with an earworm lying on my pillow singing, “Emily’s poems are gathering dust…” Silently, I repeat Ben Franklin’s, “The early bird gets the worm.” I have letters to write, events to plan and promises to keep. I tell myself to leave her poems alone, face the tasks at hand. Maybe tomorrow I’ll pull…

  • Night’s curtain

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    at night you write poems with ink of light etching ancient truths on night’s curtain the white hot pen does not sear your fingers in the morning words melt away in sunlight you try to remember what is written a bright stylus pressing against the night your only memory 8-9-25

  • Summer rain

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    in fading light on our front porch sit…read Thomas Hardy’s poems while rain drums tympany on the roof of my regrets 7-11-25

  • Oscar Wilde Ekphrasis

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    “The Universe said, ‘Let me show your soul something beautiful.” (Aberjhani) each with a biscuit we sat for coffee hers was warmed mine was not _____ we discussed a collaboration for an exhibit in July each was excited for different reasons _____ the easy part is over now for the work hers to paint mine…

  • Estranged

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    morning prayers in the park anole in bright green bush steps out on fence rail turns brown waits for breakfast to walk by you answer the phone “Hello” – anole freezes, turns, scurries back into the bush, disappears into green belated happy birthday wishes talk of life and poetry he reads you a poem he…