We’re absorbed
by the Saran-wrapped food,
the plastic cutlery,
tired brains monopolized
by the clutter of the meal tray,
numbed by hours of jiggling -
the carting of torpid bodies
through interminable distance,
wedged into
a restricted boredom.
Anesthetized – we fear nothing.
If the aircraft stalls,
if an engine fails
few will find the strength to panic,
we’ll keep decanting small bottles
of vin de table,
studiously apply hard butter
to soft buns.
As the aircraft plummets earthward
we’ll continue to struggle
with condiment sachets,
coffee creamers,
with small, molded cruets,
glad to be occupied
and totally blanked out
to what comes next -
or whatever.
Devotion Poem - Our Dance (For Jim)
You are the first and last poems
God wrote for me.
You are the sparkler
I found flaming sun yellow between
The sprigs of early green grass,
Before the shoveled piles of February
Snow had melted away
Their last signs of winter.
You came unexpectedly,
Beyond probability, carting too
Much physics homework for your
Left-brained studies, and
Declaring, “I don’t dance for anyone.”
Emphatic. Like an evergreen.
But I had seen trees dance, just as I thought
I might go on dancing if I knew you.
Then you fell silent, telling your life to me
With your smile, while your eyes glanced
Through space dismissing time, sparkling
A reach to my heart for a continuous dance…I
Have never stopped my wonder, or my own
Silent joy surpassing the physics of falling
Through dimensions into your heart.
————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 6/2/22
Thanks be to God
We’re monopolized by the Saran-wrapped food,
the plastic cutlery,
absorbed by the clutter of the food tray.
Numbed by hours of jiggling,
the carting of torpid bodies through interminable distance,
we’re wedged now into boredom, uncomfortably numb.
Anesthetized – we fear nothing.
If the aircraft stalls, few will scream.
We’ll keep decanting small bottles of vin de table,
butter buns.
As the aircraft plummets
and drops like a stone to certain death
we’ll still be struggling with condiment sachets,
coffee creamers, with small, molded cruets
oblivious now to anything less important.
Taking into account; the Poeter's quip
Shant it be unfurled to reveal thine
Penned and newly coined path of authorship
Paying out the Poeter’s plumb line
Veering from the course
Plotting new wave points
Carting the next rhyme before the horse
Beginning each line with the next conjoint
Taking time to proceed; and dote
Forsaking time tested ways
Remaking each verse concave and connote
Breaking the norm; within this phrase
Plucking the strings of a mental violin
That one trains to adroit and therein
Making each intellectual a rational linchpin.
I can hear the dozers in the distance,
droning across another mountain top.
Someone needs one hundred ton of wood-chips,
so dozer droning never seems to stop.
I can hear the chainsaw in the distance,
trimming down logs to load another truck.
Someone needs one hundred ton of wood-chips;
another mountain has run out of luck.
I can hear the log truck in the distance,
carting another load down to the mill.
Someone needs one hundred ton of wood-chips
from somewhere now with nothing left to kill.
It’s heartbreaking to see this clear felling,
but the the scar is seeded with blue gum,
and in time when they reach their potential,
once again I will hear the dozers come.
I can hear the dozers in the distance,
droning across another mountain top.
Someone needs one hundred ton of wood-chips,
so dozer droning never seems to stop.
We are monopolized
by the Saran-wrapped food,
the plastic cutlery;
absorbed by the clutter
of the crowded food tray.
Numbed by hours of jiggling,
the carting of torpid bodies
through interminable distance,
we’re wedged now into boredom.
Anesthetized – we fear nothing.
If the aircraft stalls,
few will scream.
We’ll keep decanting
small bottles of vin de table.
We must butter those buns.
As the aircraft plummets
earthward,
we’ll continue to struggle
with condiment sachets,
coffee creamers,
with small molded cruets.
Within the sketch of a house top my hair laid.
In bewilderment on the street I saw a disarrayed
feet for the clarion's call.
Not in honour of a man in metallic monster for life
restore or death gain.
Nor the second coming could uplift anxiety for our
bones to lay in waste.
Behold him coming, making his parts straight.
in whose shoulder our liberation do glory.
In adoration and praise we gave you our hearts but
chief whip you've ordained on us.
The glory of our womb you're turning to serpent for
hope of your households.
Beast, beast is your name.
Every four years you've ordained to atone our
gluttons in carting away our fortunes.
Be it far from you that our heads live in debt to your
masters.
Our ears are block to the sound of your daily
funeral.
Our laws are void to the manifestation of your
power but swords they're to the poor.
Our hope do lay to see nail being screw into your
ears sisera.
Our veils will be lifted into human rights activism,
That Sahara will be a place of snow to you,
merchant.
While your Hall of shame Will lunch out soon that
our lost hope is restore.
Present, but not independent,
Of societal flows, expectations,
Not understanding sisterhood,
Out with reachability and love.
Together with a voice each,
But screeching sometimes,
In a soft note or look away,
Fondling community law.
Hard for me, but it’s ok,
As we all exist existentially,
Relationship are assumed,
Between you and punter.
Our fine speech narrates,
Our posture, our identity,
With the joy of free will,
Carting societal standards.
Not our families or friends,
Nor TV, teachers or crooks,
But our lives are formed,
Only by our own voices.
Linda with the crippled fist.
Knarl to her smile.
Walking with the slightest limp.
Cap held on in style.
Moving like an Engineer.
Cane to shrug her on.
Spectacles of smiling eyes.
Pain as good as gone.
On her way to see a friend.
Pleased to share her time.
Often helping with a task.
Spirits on the climb.
Staying out for many hours.
Later to return.
Carting back a tired smile.
Proof of fun but stern.
Humble in her quick hello.
Greetings left to say.
Linda quick to say goodnight
moving on her way.
Finally back at her apartment.
Resting on her mind.
Entering her speeding door
expecting what she'll find.
Home at last to end the day.
Completely Satisfied.
Tomorrow coming just as fast
as Linda to be tied.
Snuggling in her bed at night
remembering the day.
Thankful for the one she had;
tomorrow on the way.
That will have to wait for now.
Linda's fast asleep.
Dreams are what the world needs now
and Linda's just that deep.
The smell of joy
Filled the atmosphere
Painting the maidens
With “Uli” designs
Footsteps of music
Traverse the square
Moulding youthfulness
Into ecstatic gods
Waters, dancers of death
Flood the arena
Carting enroute
All to the earth’s bosom
Ezenwuba, Uche
How Blissful Thy Smiles Honey
In Thy First Lob Into My Arms
The Grin Of Thy Upturn'd Mouth So Sweet
When We Dissolve In Blended Embraces
Thy People Produce The Best Of Raffia Wines
When I Taste The Sweet Of Thy Breathes
In Thy Kisses Merrily Must I Drink
Of A Rare But True Romance In The Air
How Blessedly The Day I Glimpse Thee
In Barefoot Thou Strut To Stream
Carting Water Calabash I Wish You Were Mine
Not? And Where It A Dream?
Now Thou Lie Cleav’d In My Love
Sweet Wine In New Calabash
The Scent Of Thy Breathes Like Fresh Wine
Recline Thou In My Promise Under My Thatch’d Roof
How Blissful Thy Smiles Honey
In Thy First Lob Into My Arms
The Grin Of Thy Upturn'd Mouth So Sweet
When We Dissolve In Blended Embraces
Thy People Produce The Best Of Raffia Wines
When I Taste The Sweet Of Thy Breathes
In Thy Kisses Merrily Must I Drink
Of A Rare But True Romance In The Air
How Blessedly The Day I Glimpse Thee
In Barefoot Thou Strut To Stream
Carting Water Calabash I Wish You Were Mine
Not? And Where It A Dream?
Now Thou Lie Cleav’d In My Love
Sweet Wine In New Calabash
The Scent Of Thy Breathes Like Fresh Wine
Recline Thou In My Promise Under My Thatch’d Roof
How Blissful Thy Smiles Honey
In Thy First Lob Into My Arms
The Grin Of Thy Upturn'd Mouth So Sweet
When We Dissolve In Blended Embraces
Thy People Produce The Best Of Raffia Wines
When I Taste The Sweet Of Thy Breathes
In Thy Kisses Merrily Must I Drink
Of A Rare But True Romance In The Air
How Blessedly The Day I Glimpse Thee
In Barefoot Thou Strut To Stream
Carting Water Calabash I Wish You Were Mine
Not? And Where It A Dream?
Now Thou Lie Cleav’d In My Love
Sweet Wine In New Calabash
The Scent Of Thy Breathes Like Fresh Wine
Recline Thou In My Promise Under My Thatch’d Roof
How Blissful Thy Smiles Honey
In Thy First Lob Into My Arms
The Grin Of Thy Upturn'd Mouth So Sweet
When We Dissolve In Blended Embraces
Thy People Produce The Best Of Raffia Wines
When I Taste The Sweet Of Thy Breathes
In Thy Kisses Merrily Must I Drink
Of A Rare But True Romance In The Air
How Blessedly The Day I Glimpse Thee
In Barefoot Thou Strut To Stream
Carting Water Calabash I Wish You Were Mine
Not? And Where It A Dream?
Now Thou Lie Cleav’d In My Love
Sweet Wine In New Calabash
The Scent Of Thy Breathes Like Fresh Wine
Recline Thou In My Promise Under My Thatch’d Roof
How Blissful Thy Smiles Honey
In Thy First Lob Into My Arms
The Grin Of Thy Upturn'd Mouth So Sweet
When We Dissolve In Blended Embraces
Thy People Produce The Best Of Raffia Wines
When I Taste The Sweet Of Thy Breathes
In Thy Kisses Merrily Must I Drink
Of A Rare But True Romance In The Air
How Blessedly The Day I Glimpse Thee
In Barefoot Thou Strut To Stream
Carting Water Calabash I Wish You Were Mine
Not? And Where It A Dream?
Now Thou Lie Cleav’d In My Love
Sweet Wine In New Calabash
The Scent Of Thy Breathes Like Fresh Wine
Recline Thou In My Promise Under My Thatch’d Roof
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