La Jolla, you in
your stillettos- upturned nose-
hazy your motives
holds promise despite –
in spite, the waves Pacific
still wash the beach clean.
Category: poetry
-
la jolla nightclub (haiku)
-
love lost (never had)
love lost (and never had)
reappeared in a dream
the same car my driving hand
pounding nervous on the leather
of the steering wheel
while the other
twirled with your left in air
-the space between, unspoken-
fingers of each folding
over again and again
palms pressed and teased
together apart togetheruntil you leave, step outside into
a space of darkness
and i double over myself
in the wrenching realization.
-
suitcase catches flies
suitcase catches flies
lazy like a bullfrog, one tongue
a red blouse casually
laying as if a humid breeze
slowly lifted it’s hand
and with an “easy chile” slipped
back comfortably against
a cool mint julep bra.[author’s note… this poem is just another thing i’m doing rather than packing my suitcase]
-
fall day at the Woods
smalll bony legs crook’d
over a driveway of shale
“here’s one!!!”
to a fossil, and our cousins
visiting…“let’s go!!”
tossed aside, then
scampering off to that place
where rotting wood is our
breakfast – in our fort,
a few saplings
leaned to a trunk, first creep inside
“Snake!!!”
racing fast to the river,
there a high crossing keeps
out intruders and
Indian-style
we eat pockets of winesap
apples, ruddy green
red
like that one pesky leaf
floating downstream
throw a rock, watch it sink….
-
reading Sylvia Plath (on a Friday night)
not quite midnight yet the page
hustles me to suddenly note –
the catch of desperation in my throat
outside Earl’s temptous winds a beggar
on their wayward trek to Maine
clacking round my lonely legs bare lain
with echoes of a lonely man
whom outside speaks maniacal tone
“where am i going?” i couldn’t know
and the north winds of a sweet
counter-clockwise spin round, a round
saying lonely child, silence is yet a sound.
-
box of magic (haiku)
black plastic conceals
a red silk scarf… say IT loud —
poof, it disappears![i had a toy when i was young that taught you magic…. i just remembered it tonight for some reason]
-
fear of clowns in Cincinatti
sidewalk steams heat
up ’round ankles exposed by
rolled-up jeans and
on this side
Ohio lets her guard
slowly down….just enough to miss
a creeping chill
approaching-
painted
five-day beard, cigarette
smoke curls
like a menace grina gnarled hand lurches sudden —
and Kentucky turns away
disgusted
there is no one
left to help.
-
black tie affair (who is she?!)
tongue finding left hand
she slowly licks gold
pulls it gently with teethchampagne on their lips
“You’re truly my one”
legs wrap ’round his convincingwhile She watches the phone
she swallows his ring
spits coyly the consequence
-
you say in Chicago (never trust a jazz man)
you say in Chicago
you came to know
Miles Davis.
Miles Davis!
lies! you should know
you can never know
anyone
especially a jazz man
think of all that
im prov isat ion, think
of all that so lo in g!
Poetry by JC Snyder 