Small Poems

[Qky75]

Stratocaster

Pristine on a stand
in the corner, waiting

for some spark to return
to my lifeless fingers.

Ludwig

Abandoned in the storage
a lifetime of memories.

The hands remember
Before the shoulders forgot

 

[SmilingLez]

Words shift between minds
conflict grows in the gap

 

[Angeline]

Maybe not quite small enough for this thread, but I love this beautiful poem by Saint Geraud (aka Bill Knott) from his first poetry volume, The Naomi Poems: Corpse and Beans (1968).


POEM
Saint Geraud

I am one man, worshipping silk knees,
picking myself from between my teeth,
I write these lines to cripple the dead,
to come up halt before the living:
I am one man, I run my hand over
your body, I touch the secret vibes
of the earth, I breathe your
heartbeat, Naomi, and always
I am one man alone at night. I fill my hands
with your dark hair
and offer it to the hollows of your face. I am one man,
searching,
alone at night
like a beacon of ashes. . . .

 

[SmilingLez]

Spring

Pushing up—
through cracks,
through stone
green,
stubborn,
refusing to die.

 

[amitheotherone]

Sad Timing


Weary eyes
another day

lost again

looking
everywhere



like yesterday

or maybe

the day before



playing
hide and seek

except you left


grateful

for seeing

the dark
in this light.