Topic: Poetry

A small clippit for the rest of the universe....

When I was young a day did seem
an immense and forever stretching thing.
But now I grow older, the years fly by
and I contemplate day’s change, how and why.
Those disappeared crystalline moments I knew,
will they continue or at death are we through?
Memories window sweet mist colored days,
sparkling youth’s joyous embracing ways.
The dreams of dark struggles, pains icy touch-
are those dreams the foretaste of death’s ending clutch?
Fear is my enemy---hurt I abhor
why can’t we know not for sure what’s in store?
Transcendent moments, they touch and I glow.
Truth conquers enemies---light helps me grow.

This is from a collection called _Delights
and Shadows by Ted Kooser, a Poet
Laureate, called

"Memory"

"The Call of the USSR"

Ghosts of the dark, dank Russian past
Call a siren call to me, haunting like a dream
Working on my heart almost like a medical team
In waking moments, I often feel totally aghast
Puzzled, bemused by the dice history has cast

"Russia Thoughts"

Russia is a deep and complicated place
Having been so
is today
Will it always be so?

Swirling snowflake, would you be my chariot?
Could floating in your gossamer chrysalis
Order perceptions of a disturbing universe?

Dreams turn to realities

I shake my head

trying to comprehend

all the changes I perceive

are really happening to me

(not that I mind or anything!)

"Another View of the Iraqi War"

I think of fallen poets

I want to be free to say
Speech that touches truth wholly

I want to continue here
Articulating my views
On life, learning and loving

I was standin' there
Watchin' the sun
Lookin' to have some fun
The dust rises off of the street
It's a small-town Saturday treat
Old pickup parked in the back
Gun and tackle on the rack
With my eye on a bakery pie
The folks keep driftin' by

The following is my first attempt at a "prose poem,"
about a subject dear to me. I rarely write poetry,
but a person somewhere in these past few months
wrote me and suggested I try this form, so here is
a fourth draft for your criticisms and/or perusal. V.