poemimage

Where text meets image. Where the visual intersects the literary.

Tag: father

A Bolt of Black Cloth

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I imagined a colour the density of funeral bunting,

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A bolt of black cloth,

a singed songflaring

A sudden black waterfall quickly dropping six stories,

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Unrolled from a balcony,

dense nights

The beginning of a voyage,

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Negotiating darkness.

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My father shopped at Dales for paper bags full of groceries,

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I waited in the car listening to the radio,

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I tried to describe a song called Eve of Destruction,

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He looked at me in the rear-view mirror,

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Columns of black smoke rose above the Pacific Ocean,

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Like poisonous vines,

the projector shining

Morse code blinking through the darkness,

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At night he came home as late as possible,

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Then looking again into the rear-view mirror,

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He repeated the name of the song,

‘Eve of Destruction.’

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I pictured a wooden bowl in my chest,

parkinglotthe projector shining

Smoothed and worn by water,

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& Climbing the stairs into this language,

a ring

Gazed, longingly, into a rear-view mirror.

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Rays of an Ancient Light Driving You Home

birdlandia

Did you possibly imagine (you couldn’t have)

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On that youthful, sun-dappled afternoon,

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The rays of an ancient light caressing your skin & inspiration, when you were

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A skipping stone striking at the perfect angles & gaining your balance,

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Amusedly & perfectly crossing a warm stream at the edge of town,

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The water fresh and the fences down,

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Driving home after closing time…

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The years marking your skin in ways the Great Depression & the

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Enemy marked your psyche, past an abandoned brewery,

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Seeing the quiet streets coming up fast like a flood, silent as a submarine,

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Balancing on wet stones, laughing as you splashed & driving home

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After closing time, to a lonely house, impervious to depth charges,

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Past the dislodged bricks of the abandoned brewery,

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Imagining that sun-splashed afternoon & shallow, sparkling water,

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Your children crossing streams within darkened rooms,

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Finding their balance, in ways the enemy

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Marked your psyche & warm afternoons caressed your inspiration,

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An ancient star illuminating quiet streets, starlight splashing,

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Streaming into and beyond abandoned spaces,

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Rays of an ancient light driving you home.

slbirdlandia