Scrape With Infinite Patience and Care
This is an undated poem found in an old, old folder, the fragile paper yellowed and water stained, the words typed and corrected with big Xs and a scribble or two.
Category: Poetry
Poems inspired by, or written by Patrick Meadows and Stephanie Shepard.
Governments
A short poem from Galilea, October 1971.
POEM
Short poem from October 1971.
Black Widows
A poem by Patrick, referencing his mom.
“My Heart” Is the Refrain (e-Mail)
I have found myself of late with a sort of refrain in my head, often repeated aloud (when I am alone) “My heart” is the refrain, always seeing her in the garden, in the countryside, in the car.
An American Holiday
Happy Thanksgiving to all. I am reminded of an earlier time. JPI’m the son of Patrick of Meadows.
Revisiting a Poem for Stephanie
I wrote She of Clouds and Flowers for Stephanie and sent it to her before she died. Her lovely voice and idyllic setting inspired the piece. Perhaps you can still see her there, on the terraces, tending her gardens and thrilling the birds with her song. JPI’m the son of Patrick of Meadows.
Revisiting: A Collection of Poetry
Here is a collection of poems I found on his computer in the file poems.odt. They were written over several decades and compiled a few years before he died. These are based on the tag “poems.odt” I used to identify the works from that file. JPI’m the son of Patrick of Meadows.
Ballade
Now Seagulls flatter us upon the dock, each image bellied upon the cluttered waves; their parted, hectic beaks comma names, and as they carve the air (ellipses, ovals) clouds unfold their frescoes, flocks of feathered gods wrestling; sunlight twisting into shadows: caves, or marble fingers clenched. The river raves and flaps its dirty wings. Injured […]
At the Ruins of Troy
Achilles stumped about in this dust,Beneath these walls. Those poppies are less redThan petals bled by Trojans and GreeksFor Helen and the rest. Priam’s surging lustWas small beside this rise and fall of land,The snake of river slipping out to sea,The Dardanelles, lying at the kneeOf Turkey, a girl stretching on the sand. The tendons […]
What Frederic Said at the Acropolis
That building seems to soar. Athenian menWould watch the mountain mornings as if the godsThat Phidias friezed there might command the panOf hammered dawn to scoop them into cloudsAnd set them with the temple on the peak Olympus. Each day Athena dreamedAgainst her arm and seemed about to breakA sigh beside the spear on which […]
Tableau #3
Pigeons flutter in the park at dusk and shiver feathers in the mauve half-light: policemen meet under the lams to ask what the special is tonight. The air is crisp. Hunched in black, the hacks clutch a wreath of woven hide, staring at their knuckles or kneecaps; damp horses snort in fogs that stain the […]
Tableau #2
(I watch and the pelicans plummet into the water.) It must be the time of year, with the wind blowing through my hair and roughing the river; perhaps it’s just this wooden bridge and the line slicing itself into halves bending back beneath the edge of the weathered boards. (There the brown algae limps back […]
Tableau #1
Lady, your flowers have been well-kept for generations; Blossoms have topped that stone wall many springs And filled parlor-damp vases. (Roses cannot clean the mildew from the spacious, once gracious rooms.) I have been in your parlor, Seen polished wood Under light straining through stained glass, Felt leather groan as I sat, Handled wicker and […]
I Speak Fire
I speak fire I crackle in prose Mundane articles and prepositions Singe the page Incendiary verbs glow with the passion of feverish expression There can be no darkness In the flicker of sentence, In the passage of phrase I speak fire I am light Copyright © 2009, 2019 John […]