Poem: Four Minus Three

 

 

photo credit: Photography by Magda Indigo

 

Four Minus Three

By Shannon P. Laws

 

The sanctuary of four tulips
in a heavy glass jar
atop the round dining table
bathe in afternoon sun

Church is found in
the smallest folded places
Between petals
Between panes

A god does not determine
who lives or dies
It is the science of fate
The seat you sit in at three a.m.
when a moose moves out from the brush

Three bleed-out inside a crumpled-ball of car

while one

if asked by any nurse or doctor

could tell you
what the family
ate for dinner
yesterday

 

Poem: Rainer’s Shade

Rainer’s Shade

Flare up like a flame and make big shadows I can move in
—Rainer Maria Rilke

Protected by your stare
Sun’s rays will burn me
If it spies me standing there

Under covers of the bed I made
Next to a pile of books to read
Window’s light a threat
Curtains now a shade

Dull shaped pattern of gray
Cover thick on the ground
Outline the place where I can stay

~Shannon P. Laws

Poetry: Loose Hair

Sometimes you don’t
Notice a stray hair
On your clothes
Until the light hits it
Stray thoughts
A lost memory
Forgotten friend
Your car keys

Things we loose
Blown off us
Fingers rustle through
Our hair, looking
How can you put
Back into the follicle
Stray hair that 
Left the scalp
It must instead be mourned
If it was even missed or
Greeted graciously
Like a fresh beginning

PAD: Playing with Sunlight

Happy 11-11-11!!
Writers Digest November “Poem A Day” challenge-  Day 11
Swimming in sunlight
thick with sounds:
voices, conversations
opinions, attitudes
Shadows stretch long
point west toward me
My soul strokes east
propelling this fish forward
What river have I fallen into?
Ocean, to river, to stream
following the scent of home
Where is my birthplace?
I say I was born
in the sunbeam itself
not the shadow
although conceived there
Baby’s first sense is smell
when it begins to breathe air
New sense turns on
when sunlight strokes the face
…the smell of home imprinting on the mind.
***

Poetry: Wink

WINK
Morning sunlight, sun low
stretch shadows long,
twinkle through the branches
 that sway in the current,
bath me please
Stronger the light
Harsher the dark
Sun can not be everywhere
nature’s landscape prevents it
God made or not
Crow flys by
nods its head
as if it remembers me
Your life so simple Crow
Please brood over my features
A wink when you fly by will let me know
They are fixed in your mind
The Sun may not always find me
Yet your wing’s move you
amongst the penumbras
and  illumination
Your nod Crow brings me comfort,
for somewhere by someone
I am remembered…

Poetry: Two Love Poems


Here are a two love poems I’m working on for a contest.
Spicy hot!

Saturdays Song
Sunny Saturday
Beams filter through
The sheer curtained window
Onto the stage of us;
A bed of messy covers

Softly, gently
you sing and strum
I lie next to you and listen
watching your fingers move

Our song of love
Fills the room
Our hearts
Our minds
Mix in the melody

Your fingers travel down
the cords of my spine
“Play me, love me
Like you loved that song”

…and you do

Dream of a Lover
I dreamed of you
Once before this time
I knew you before
Once before this life

Your walk and smile
Your eyes and caress
Your mind and spirit

Two pieces missing
For life times
Coming together at last

Poetry: Sunset

Before the sun sets
On this tired old trunk
I hope to of lived
A life full of Sunshine
Friends, family
Laughter, joy
Hope discovered
Mysteries solved
How wonderful that time will be
When it is Time I think on
But only if Living was
What was done
The most beautiful Sunset viewed
Is one by eyes that have Cried
Fulfillments, contracts concluded
A slow fade to black…

Poetry: Lookout


Fields of flowers
Rolling green hills
Sitting, wind at my back
In the distance ships sail

Snow capped Olympics
Needle tipped trees
Moss covered rocks
I spy a brown fox
In the a field of brown grass
Zig Zagging in sync with a rabbit

The other side deer
Emerge from the forest
Out in the open now
Gathering together for diner

The sun, the warm setting sun
Soon your heat will leave us
Yellow, deep orange, getting lower
Shadows stretching

At the Robert’s Redoubt sitting
Atop my lookout
I do just that
I lookout and see
I see and hear
The waves, the eagle,
The wind, the distant voices

Another day is ending
Leaving the promise of a fresh one
Today it is called “tomorrow”
“Today”- I will not forget you!

Sadistic Sun

Before my eyes crack open to greet the day I’m realizing that today is THAT day.
I’m up! Physically my body lay still in bed, covers up to the chin. For the past twenty minutes or so my mind has been turning like a sour stomach; thoughts, images, ideas good and bad, swirling around up in my cranial cavity seeking a quick exit, seeking to be heard. The bed too warm to leave, the scratching at the door reminds me Princess needs food. So I get up and head for my chair and keyboard in the other room; it is time to write… and feed the cat.

Cat fed, OK… I’m ready… “You words can come out now!” …Silence answers. “What’s holding up the creative process? Hello?” An emotional beaver-like dam has positioned itself somewhere between my brain and fingers. Perhaps it’s not time to sit; but to walk. It’s 5:12 in the morning. A warm cup of tea in hand, walking around the room, I notice the sound of little tweets outside. The Chickadee’s that frequent the grove tell me the sun must be getting ready to rise.

The sun has a busy schedule to keep, at least a prudent one, it rises every morning on schedule, more reliable than a city bus. Opening my living room blinds reviles the trees in the grove as they start to take shape, painted black on a dark blue canvas. Slowly the sun will creep up over the hills and day will break. Normally I would be enjoying this moment, but not today. It’s too early and my mood is as dark as the sky. Standing there the bird tweets get muffled by the sound of electronic snow emanating from my head, I’m out of tune and need to find a frequency. “Go away sun! I want to go back to sleep!”

Apparently the earth spinning gives the effect of the sun moving, (I saw this on PBS so it must be true). But let’s be honest with each other for a moment, we all know the sun is a lazy sun of a bitch. Outside of being the life source of our planet, this nuclear fusion machine pretty much sits there, like a Little Miss Muffet. The universe really does revolve around it! The sun just sits there stirring and churning inside of itself spewing out fountains of nuclear lava in radiant displays like a scarves dancing drag queen. “Look at me! Look at me!” it says. Oh ya I’ll look at you, and then go BLIND! The human retina does not have pain receptors, so while we enjoy your “splendor” we will not even feel the damage being done! You sadistic pig!

The sun mocks me this morning; it has yet to rise and I hate it. However it is not the sun I hate although I try to divert my brain traffic to that off ramp, I am really nervous about what my day timer has slotted between 10:00 – 1:00. Today’s challenge will come and go; I’ll blink and the day will be over. Do you know how I know? Time continues on with or with out us. That sun that I hate now, will set tonight as it always has. We have no control over the powers of the universe, however you can choose to stay in a moment, wallowing in a muddy existence like a pig in a pen or quickly swallow time down like a Brussels sprout. “Crap! Alright I won’t cancel, I’ll go I’ll go!” I tell myself. “I won’t wallow anymore.” I hate Brussels sprouts!

It’s a new day, fresh and ready for me …and I’m ready for it. (Really I am… honestly)

Birds flying high
You know how I feel
Sun in the sky
You know how I feel
Reeds driftin’ on by
You know how I feel
It’s a new dawn
It’s a new day
It’s a new life
For me
And I’m feeling good

written by Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse, 1964

***