A straight-backed chair shadow-plays
a dark cello,
while emptiness falls
as heavy as a rain cloud.
An oak wood floor creaks
as a spectral bow
is moved by a shifting light.
The room once harbored a grand piano
it plays now to the mindful,
yet only as a distant echo,
a long past refrain
heard once more as a nocturn
for a whippoorwill.
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Categories:
straight backed, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Soft heart shaped face,
Piercing eyes speckled head,
Running out of control,
Pacing ahead.
Straight backed chairs,
Hard wooden desks,
Permanently inked on my heart,
Their looks have such an effect.
Categories:
straight backed, 7th grade, bullying,
Form: Rhyme
Pete had an ordinary funeral, nothing ostentatious or showy.
Two straight backed strangers appeared in his small Iowa church.
They were dressed in Air Force uniforms.
They hugged each other for a long time.
Another soldier gone, one said.
Our brother said the other.
These three had been the only survivors of C Company.
In the middle of a jungle swamp in Viet Nam in 1970.
From his catbird seat Pete Lansford watched.
He was grinning at them so hard that Jim looked up.
Pete gave him a high five, but neither Jim or Joe could see him.
Thank you for letting me watch my funeral he told the angel.
Categories:
straight backed, funeral,
Form: Narrative
Up in the above
roof gardens pluck air out of thoughts.
Changelings run between
brick walls
one is dead-eyed and evermore shall not see
yet it grows itself upon a dendritic tree
to hear what the empty places speak of.
Long moved furniture’s leave there after-images
they remain as stains upon inlayed grains.
inside the crumbling interior of bare floor
wood owls slowly turn spiral eyes
to see for those no longer here.
Above this homeless and dreaming mind
a straight-backed chair plays a dark cello
most melancholy are its tunes
that resound on ceiling and echoing ground.
The space within the structure will one day rupture
but for now a ghostly grey-matter
knits together
the under, the over,
and that room
where music sighs between two lovers.
Categories:
straight backed, poetry,
Form: Free verse
A leader looks forward
He doesn't look back
Makes tough decisions
Rarely backtracks
He's not always right
And he's sometimes unwise
Yet he admits his mistakes
He deals not in lies
He has his core values
When he speaks, he inspires
He may not be beloved
But he's widely admired
For truth is his calling card
He's genuine, sincere
He'll do the right thing
Though it may end his career
It has been quite a while
Since America's been blessed
With a straight-backed President
Who could pass such a test
Yet for the USA to again
Kindle Liberty's flame
We'll need such a leader
Not one who puts us to shame
Categories:
straight backed, america, inspirational, integrity, leadership,
Form: Rhyme
He was weary of prostitutes.
The young ones were vacuous,
their bodies unleavened bread.
The mature models scored
by the violence of disappointment.
Both the naive and the bitter
were dull molds.
He had dissected women, both old and girlish.
On moonless nights carried their corpses,
on muffled barrows to his garret.
By the light of a hundred candles
he had eased flesh apart,
nose swathed in verbena drenched rags,
hands tweaking tissue, tracing
sensuous shapes under dead curves.
He hired women of every class.
The rich were flattered, vain,
the poor always eager to earn.
None made the stone blossom.
It was a matter of timing,
catching her as she emerged
from her littoral crest.
It seemed his models
were always coming to, or moving away
from that conjunction.
yet he kept opening shells
until death took him.
At his funeral
his straight-backed widow,
adorned in darkest weeds,
hid her anger well.
Despising those cold hands
that never knew
how to reveal her.
Categories:
straight backed, poetry,
Form: Free verse
On A White Stool
You know there is no turning around,
no pausing in any way, because the path to the woods,
where the sky demons make their homes,
has been flooded by the blue rivers there,
which flow by like glaciers on fire,
with life clinging to the whims of God almighty,
we first saw the downcast stares of fear,
made while sitting straight-backed on a white stool,
your troth of insanity, your refusal to bend or talk,
but it keeps going forward, this life, that never ceases to teach,
never decides to open the windows
when the blustery news reaches forth
from the darkest place downstairs beneath the dry rot.
Categories:
straight backed, life,
Form: Free verse
She is cool, straight-backed, circumspect. She doesn’t ooze emotion. She orders green eggs and lamb, and lets the joke speak for itself, not offering a gratuitous laugh. Relentless in her pursuit of authenticity. She is seduced by the obvious. Using her stature to reshape the way the world sees itself, to reflect images that have always been present but weren’t being looked at. Her roots are strong, which is why she flies. She knows where she comes from and uses that to see the world.
Categories:
straight backed, beauty, youth,
Form: Verse
Hall of Silent Women
in valhala
in a far corner
of this martial paradise
is one small unobtrusive hall
above the heavy iron door
these words are faintly inscribed
“ the war department
regrets to inform you
that your son……
has been killed
in action, in defence of……”
women
silent
row upon row
straight backed, tight lipped, blank eyed
their amputated anger melting hearts
while words swift shot pierces soul
women
from life first stirrings
through vaulted cave to clapboard ranch
crouched sweating over birthing pit
to numbed white linen labour
in their pain and joy shudders steel shod feet
march through the womb.
women
ancient cauldrons
endless source of armoury
kept tongueless
then given tongue to teach
man made words
toy soldiers bleed rust.
in valhala
indeed in every martial paradise
there is one small unobtrusive hall
above the heavy door
words are faintly inscribed…
Categories:
straight backed, bereavement,
Form: Free verse
The sisters passed
in the garden
on the way to chapel,
their heads bowed,
their voices hushed,
faced concealed
by wimples
stiff as cones
in the twilight.
The evening bell tolled,
peaceful and reverent
as an affirmation,
ancient
as the stone walls
dressing in their habits,
as brides donning green.
Soon all was quiet;
no more rustling
of fabric.
Impoverished and chaste
their prayers went
to God,
these obedient daughters
of charity.
Straight-backed
in their rude pews,
their heads bowed
still further,
they gave thanks
for a beauty
of which they felt themselves
undeserving.
Categories:
straight backed, garden, nature,
Form: Personification
There are all kinds of poverty
and no sin in being poor
yet, beauty in its truest form
always will endure.
Disparity has its price to pay
when greed becomes the lure.
How we handle lucre, it seems,
tells others who we are.
There’s poverty in China
and capitalism too,
yet, the desire to level the field
brings other factors in view.
They’ve seen the value
in selling culture, history
to world hungry for beauty
which disdains disparity.
The desire to care for the many
not cater to the few,
brings different kinds of order
still, poverties there too!
Nepal the Yin of planet Earth
where inward voices grow
has its own desperation
and rebellions to forego.
Individual beauty of spirit
was strongest here
they stepped inside, aside...
when discord did appear.
Egypt has it marvels
of man and Gods galore
but in the space of mosque light
truest beauty found its lure.
The face of child of mother
the straight-backed prowess of men
the coal black eyes of hunger
the starving animals in pens.
NO culture can climb the precipice
to sucess, all are destined to fall
as long as some have everything
and most have nothing at all.
Categories:
straight backed, allegory, caregiving, introspection, life,
Form: Quatrain