waterways: poetry in the mainstream vol.28 no. 9

8/14/2019 Waterways: Poetry in the Mainstream Vol.28 no. 9

1/32

Waterways: Poetry in the Mainstream, Volume 28, #9

Female and male,Complete, indivisible, one,Fused into light.

excerpted from ElectricityLola Ridges Sunup and other poems(1920


2/32

WATERWAYS: Poetry in the MainstreamVolume 28 Number 9*Designed, Edited and Published by Richard Spiegel & Barbara Fisher

Thomas Perry, Teaching Artist c o n t e n t s

Waterways is published 11 times a year. Subscriptions -- $33 for 11 issues.Sample issues $4.00 (includes postage).

Submissions will be returned only if accompanied by a stamped, self addressed envelopeWaterways, 393 St. Pauls Avenue, Staten Island, New York 10304-2127

2008 Ten Penny Players Inc. *This magazine is published 3/08.

http://www.tenpennyplayers.org/mags.html

Patricia Kelly 4James Penha 5-6William Corner Clarke 7Ellaraine Lockie 8R. Yurman 9

Gwenn Gebhard 10Patrick Carrington 11-12

Geoff Stevens 13Robert Brimm 14-16Joanne Seltzer 17Anselm Brocki 18Mary K. Lindberg 19-20

Ida Fasel 21-23Fran Farrell Kraft 24-25

Fredrick ZydekPaul Kareem TayyarRex SextonJohn Grey 29Hugh Fox

Donald Lev


3/32

3


4/32

Patricia Kelly

I walk into the

painting of sunlit water

baby elephants wade

4


5/32

Diversion James Penha

Before I focus for the day

I see the sun in flashes of your thighs whose fleshclasped mine one night.Ive grown accustomed to the smelllike after-dinner mints of your mouthin my cold morning cereal. Pop.Snap. Crackle. Pop. Pop.Pop. Your cheeks above the horizonof my bosss ranting rages raisesserious questionsregarding a bodys proper employment;that corny wise crack appeals to my budding tongue

5


6/32

which shoots and sticks tot.Some sleepy secretary says Im deep asshe shuffles off without a word. Your

moments promise perseverates;it still seems and jerks me from the road I miss for milesbecause I see you mirrored in my rear view.And when the fat man with White Owl and furry collar,in a Cadillac and a vengeance, moves on my tail pipe,finally,Ill not notice til it hurts.Im drivingyou to the edge of things.

6


7/32

Timeless William Corner Clarke

7

The fact that youAre waking upAnd setting outTo greet the sunWhile I am sleepingDeep beneath the moon

Should make TimeSuspectIn all its ways

When you are goneAnd Im still turningOn this stoneIll tell myselfThat birth and deathAre no more real

Than up or downAnd that stars remainBehind the blue of noon


8/32

Organic High Ellaraine Lockie

You look like a sunny day he saysIts raining outside

and Im not a smiley personSo how can this be?

Unless my excitementseeps like sun raysInto the chill of thefrozen food aisleMy secret light so strongthat a supermarketstranger feels itMy energy source not solarBut singular

8

Plugged into yourelectrical outletElusive extension cordMelding the miles betwe


9/32

Poetry Night @ Pegasus Books R. Yurman

Tucked in a cornerdense with folding chairs

they huddle like refugees stateless conspiratorsbreathing togetherjust above a whisper.

High laughter waftsthrough the open doors.On a warm eveningassaulted by cell phonesskateboards truck gearsa fire engines uproarthey read and recite to each other.

(An earlier version of this poem appeared inBay Area Poets Seasonal Review, Spr

9

Its called an open mic once a month or morethey gather despitecontagious ambient noiseand the general disregardin which theyre heldby other literate types

who march through the stoscanning shelf after shelffor that one perfect bookdeaf to this passionate troof word-drunk exiles.


10/32

Snow and Lace Gwenn Gebhard

Strong sunshine

softens the snowon the steep hill.We dont needto dig our heels into slowthe toboggansdownhill dash.Stiff stalksof Queen Annes Lacepoke through hillocksof hayfield snow.

10

Bodies nesting,

we lean backcontemplatingsky.


11/32

Some Bad Moon Patrick Carrington

As a boy I saw these fields swollen gold

with wheat. I loved watching

the combines, the men

of calloused hands

and their satisfaction

as they grabbed the wheels

as tenderly as their women,

knowing it was time to top.

11


12/32

Theyre gone, and the harvesterssit crooked and grimin reflected moonlight. They wear

the tired posture of old auntspropped in porch chairsto lose their dignity, to swayand be sad until they die.

They have that vague, insulted look

in their shadowed headlights,the silence and rusty stinkof stillborn phraseson their tongues. Darkness burstsfrom them like frightened blackbirds.

In the cracked ground theres a foopressed in hard like a fossil.A boys perhaps, or the man

grown from him. Waiting long

for a rooster to bring nothingbut that same familiar crow,and taking its own good time.

12


13/32

Confusion Geoff Stevens

Although we appear as close

as violet and indigo

and are seen as united

the prism triangle

of dividing love

splits our invisible bondand casts a dark rainbow

on the future sky

13


14/32

Over Sunday Coffee Robert Brimm

Just sitting in a tunnel on a Sunday

morning at the state university,having a hot cup of coffee no sugar,

thank you (a cautious sip) whilePhyllis is engrossed in a local tabloidinsert left behind by some hurried,

harried student, no doubt (sip),and Im just sitting, wondering whatit would be like if I were a student

14


15/32

today, pursuing my education now,plodding these building connectorswhere the echoes of footsteps have

settled like invisible dust on the chairsand tables arrayed as far as the eyecan see (another sip), and Im just

wondering, as old men sometimes

will do: Would I become the lawyerI wanted to be, or the doctor that I

dreamed of becoming, the teacherI thought I was meant to be (sip),or would I find my way blindly again

15


16/32

to this same point, this befoggedmile marker where I am now, sittingin a tunnel, scribbling on this scrap

with the tiny stub of a found pencil,watching as the words appear almostat will? Would I have any regrets?

I think not (sip), as I look back overthis long journey, as I savor thisdestination I have found this trip

with you as my traveling companion,Phyllis. I really could ask for no more.I could (a final sip) ask for no more.

16


17/32

Two Packs a Day Joanne Seltzer

My mother the smokerloved the ceremony

of whipping out that mother-of-pearlinlaid cigarette caseand that flame-throwing lighterfit for a thirties movie star.

Her sister died of emphysema.Her husband nagged.

Grandchildren played musical chairsat restaurantsto sit away from Nanas fumesbut she wouldnt quit untilher mouth grew raw patchesthat turned straws into knives.

17

When breath turned into gthe former glamour girl

entered a forgivingsmoke-free environment.

In the dark living roomof memorymy mother and her boyfrieinhale, exhale

still two spots of light.


18/32

Reason Why Anselm Brocki

What is somewhat reassuring

about the findings of scientistswho have finally started to lookinto the expressions of emotionsof insects, birds, reptiles, fish,and other mammals, includingtheir shocking sexual habits,

which often go far beyondour repertoire and fantasy, isthat so many of them, whoadmittedly may not have reachedour high level of consciousness

18

and sense of self, are nonethel

so driven to express themselvesexually in a multitude of waysoften in total disregard of genage, and even species, as are wdespite all our churchgoing, lofmorals and fancy learning.


19/32

Darwin and Marriage Mary K. LindbergVictorian passions hard to seeoutside of their pornography.

Why marry? I love to gather factsin silence and solitude.Dont want to be boxed inlike my Galapagos plants.And who needs the expense,anxiety of a quarreling brood?

On the other hand, who wants to spendlife like a neuter bee, working, working,with nothing at the end but honeyin someone elses hive? My studiessuggest solitary life can be badfor ones health. After all,

19


20/32

only the fittest survive. I picturea nice soft wife that most interestingspecimen smiling at me, all the charmsof female chit-chat, books, a good fire.My own cousin Emma Wedgwood couldteach me greater happiness than mulling

over origins on long, lonely walks.I can read, have a companion whowill play music to my worms. And,

I can breed pitcher plants on the porch.So, isnt it natural that Iselect her for a wife? Of course.

Inspired by Darwins notes To Wed or Not texhibited at American Museum of Natural History

20


21/32

Meanwhile Ida Fasel

In the beginning there was lightAnd in the end there will be only light

Freeman Dyson

Experts foresee a calamitous future:

The ocean wont stop at seawalls and sandpiles.

Skyscrapers will flatten like shattered greenhouses.

The rhino, the gorilla, the elephant will vanish.The human species will mutate shaggy as dust devils

or grow leaves from living in trees. Winter signs.

21


22/32

Meanwhile, the rain comes, the rain cools and calms,the rain does my watering for me. A crack in gaunttough ground means a bulb cut down to eye-root

is breaking through, equipped with everythingit needs to bear itself into bloom. Thunderthat worked so hard to scare me (and did)with its imitation of a train at full throttlereduces to a gradually muffled growl. Spring signs.

The planet will collapse, overpopulated or under.

Industrial chemicals will waste the land.Meanwhile, my peonies flourish great and gorgeousas seraphim, Gods passionate red in praise.My roses are divas in crimson silks,singing arias as they climb. Summer signs.

22


23/32

I take to heart brightness wherever I find it marigolds, the white of piano keys, the glimmerfar out to sea, whose inwardness I could never

get enough of, though put there with my own eyes.Experts lie scattered over the groundin apocalyptic pieces. Meanwhile, stained glasswindows radiate the light they are, the lightthey are in, like starfire glass and agatesin a kaleidoscope, turn and turn into true

where the soul rests satisfied.Spring signs, summer signs, favorable signs.Let nature self-destruct. I am adamant,rock of canyon wall, and more slowly wear away.

23


24/32

The Back of My Mind Fran Farrell Kraft

There are cobwebs and dark caverns

in the back of my mindand subterranean streams

There are hooded shadows and fiendsin the back of my mindand shadowed hoods

There are plundering pirates and carjackersin the back of my mindand marauding terrorists

24


25/32

There are gargoyles and carbuncles

in the back of my mindand hideous hags

There is sunshine too and green grassand azure skies and vistasThere is singing and dancing

in the back of my mind

25


26/32

This Is Not a Confession Fredrick Zydek

It is a definition,a recognition,

a blue ribbon momentin a first place day.

It is a conclusionpleased to find itselfperched on a good idea,a presumption preening

its discovery for allthe world to admire.This is not a confession;it is an acknowledgment,

26

a bright shiny pebbleon a grey sandy beach.

Dont expect regretOr repentance look for

repetition and accoladesthat rejoice each timeI take delight in beingan odd and original blessing.


27/32

LeeAnnes Surprise Party Paul Kareem Tayyar

Are you sure she doesnt know?Trust me, this goes against everything I stand for. She has no idea.

It was a wonderful party.

When she arrived and saw everyone there,She just kept looking at me and saying,You? You planned this? You?

But you hate parties.Not for you, I should have told her.Never when theyre for you.

27


28/32

Memorial Day Rex Sexton

The whirl of white dresses

in the theater of dream,morph into a wreath of white ashes

in Soldiers memories,

and the same steady fingers

that helped the wounded in war,

prayed for the fallen,shot the enemy down,

begin to tremble in the darkness

as the ballerinas go round.

28


29/32


30/32

Soft as her skin once was.And the coverlet,more flowers, roses of course.She grew them once.In honor of how she looked in the mirror.And would you look at that crystal clock.Stopped a good forty years ago,around about when she stopped.Kids make fun of course.Why keep a clock that cant tell time.

They dont realize that thats the very reason.And whos that child in the picture,they ask for the thousandth time.Thousand and oneif you count Jennies question.

30


31/32

La Paix/Peace Hugh Fox

31

La paix est les sculptures dans le parc,

les amantes que mangent et boivent,mere, grandmere, bebe sur lherbe,le soleil que vient et part, les mouettesque crient pour un morceau de ma glaceau chocolate, une femme seul, deux femmesensemble, lextension de les nuages etles brises que nous aussi sommes

Peace is the sculptures in the park

the lovers who eat and drink,mother, grandmother, baby on the grathe sun that comes and goes, the seagthat scream for a piece of my chocolaicecream, a woman alone, two womentogether, the prolongation of the clouthe breezes and we also

are.


32/32

Poem on the Film, Once Donald Lev

Boy with guitar on his back meets girl pulling vacuum cleaner.

They fall in love, then split, but not before they make their music.(She, it turns out, plays the piano).A musical a bit more subdued than the ones withDan Daily & Betty Grable & Carmen Miranda &Cuddles Seckle cleaning breadcrumbs off a checkeredtablecloth nothing like that.

The musics a bit contemporary for my taste,though it begins to grow on me (one number in particular,that I dont know the name of) . . . but the theme is there . . .expressed purely: Love & Music & Youth. Hooray!

32

waterways: poetry in the mainstream vol.28 no. 9

Documents