Poetry Sampling
Dad’s Apparition
Last night Dad
appeared in my room.
The stiff, slow walk
of an old man,
Plaid shirt tan
jeans and the same smile.
He sat on the edge
of my bed.
“Dad, I am so glad
to see you.
It’s been such a
long time.
You died.
It’s been fifteen years.
I’ve missed you.”
His face was
peaceful understanding.
We stood and I gave
him a big hug.
Then we walked
silently to the door.
He got on the
elevator and stopped me while
Pointing, “You take
the stairs”.
And was gone.
Poetry
Reading
Poet
looks poetic.
Sounds
poetic.
Image
matches expectation.
Thoughts
in shorthand.
Meaning
there?
Sometimes
hidden.
Stories
in shorthand.
Understanding?
Sometimes.
Few
nod cognition.
All
polite.
Mostly
blank stares.
Above
Platoro
From
the desert basin we bump-grind
up
the ungraded mountain pass.
The
high Aspens are
not
yet fully greened.
Our
tent stands erect;
a
rationalization of security in gossamer.
Cups
of hot tea - later Scotch
radiate
tranquility.
The
fire glows warm.
Stars
burn holes in the soul.
The
morning snaps coldly.
Day
lights the high peaks
gathering
strength to melt the frost.
Our
nylon womb is sympathetic.
But
the cold fist of dawn
presses
our bladders.
Discomfort
is warm and cozy;
relief
is freezing.
Wood
smoke burns our eyes
but
warms our hands.
Coffee
fortifies existence.
Sun
on the valley below
warms
the heart.
Long
Drive
Far
looms the mountain
Endless
two-lane center lines
Will
they ever meet?
By
the Pale Moon Light
By
Monument Lake in the Spanish Peaks,
In
whispering pines, by babbling creeks.
We
set our camp in the towering spruce,
For
modern convenience we have no use.
Thin
mountain air has flushed our cheeks,
Unwind
we must, of work no one speaks.
We
wander, explore, and hike the main trail,
Searching
for wild flowers dainty and frail.
For
pine cones, chipmunks and trees that are old,
For
white shiny rocks that we hope will have gold.
We
climb to an outcrop after quite a travail,
And
scramble down quick when a storm brings small hail.
Damp
misty air has chilled us to the bone,
We
truck back to camp to the place we call home.
But,
a stones throw from camp we find lots of spoor,
Big
piles of dung, this place has lost its allure.
What
digests Cinch Saks and has freedom to roam?
Have
we invaded his space? Will we have to
atone?
I
don't tell the family of what I afear,
There
are really big critters, I am sure, that are near.
Our
camp stove I've lit and it glows hot and bright,
We
need to have supper before we lose light.
A
grandmotherly camper wanders by, "Oh my dear,
Last
night did those nasty old bears come by here?"
"Bears?
You said bears? We just got here this morn,
We
drove all night long." I musta
sounded forlorn.
She
said, "Now don't worry, Hon," as I stirred the hash,
"Those
bears just come through and get into the trash.
I've
camped around bears since before you were born,
Just
keep your camp clean and nothing gets torn."
So
I stashed all the food out of reach of the bears,
Don't
feed the beasts is the rule everyone swears.
I
can't stay awake - thirty six hours without sleep,
(Remember,
last night we drove here in the Jeep.)
My
wife and the kids watch the fire with blank stares.
I'm
tired. Let's sleep. Let the bears come. Who cares.
Some
time after midnight there went up an alarm,
Down
the road, cross the creek, a few screams, but no harm.
It
will take more than screams to get me full awake.
Its
been days since I slept. Leave me alone
for Christ's sake.
"Where's
Mom ?" my son asks, his nails dug
in my arm,
He's
alert and perceptive, but at midnight lacks charm.
Fresh
mountain air, couple Cokes and you know,
Sometimes
in the night a person just has to go.
She
wandered around by the creek near the falls,
Just
to find the right spot for when nature calls.
Just
then I saw movement in the creek bed below
"There's
bears out there Dad," my son says soft and low.
Sleep
walking in camp, she was really a sight,
Dropped
her drawers, shot the moon in the pale moon light.
They
both were there squatting, their backs to each other,
"My
dear God! Don't look son. Oh my Lord!
It's your Mother.
Just
then fell our lantern and we startled in fright,
And
from off in the brush came two gasps in the night.
They
spied each other from over their shoulder,
Mother
took off one way, a big rock she crawled over.
The
bear musta had the crap scared from him too,
Cause
he bolted the creek and ran down long the slough.
"If
you don't come in now, you won't grow a day older."
Tomorrow
night I will sleep at the Best Western in Boulder.
North of Home
Smooth gravel road
Ends at the 4-way
Must manage ruts north
Anticipation builds
So close to the farm
Old barn on the hill
Evening sun glints off roof
Sides once red
Kids bounce on the car seats
Turn at the lane
Jackie and Julie at the end
Pink boulders to the left
Trash ditch to the right
Both drifted with snow
Windmill turns slowly
One light on the pole
Dog at the car window
Jack breaks bales for calves
Looks up and runs
Park in front of the house
See Janet just inside
Separator whirls
Pails of milk and cream
Jeannie coming from the barn
Julie close behind
Struggling with buckets
In the dark
Cats at the door
Manure covered coats hung near
Rubber boots in a line
Frost covers the farm house windows
Silhouettes in the kitchen
Something good inside
Smell it in your mind
Fresh cut cedar for lights
Leans against the wall
Best part of Christmas
Arrival
Limericks
There
once were two lads from the wheat lands,
Who
went looking for trout and fine gold sands,
But
from drinking too much,
(and
influenced as such),
They
saw hills as small Tetons at hand.
There
once were two boys from the plains,
Who
thought they were mountain-type swains,
But
in looking for gold,
(and
trout we are told,)
They
decided sleeping was best when it rains.
There
are these two guys that you know,
To
find gold and to fish they did go.
Out
West to the mountains
To
camp in the high lands,
But
all that it did was to snow.
Copyright
© 2013Tom Ellis. All rights reserved.
