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Best Poems Written by Kay Caputi

Below are the all-time best Kay Caputi poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Kay Caputi Poem

Memorial Day

Framed by the white plastic
of the kitchen window,
a portrait of feathered friends
bathing together 
in the waters of life.

Blue, red, robin, and wren
sharing a statuesque perch,
each drinking from 
the shell-shaped reservoir
filled by the gift 
of a recent hard-spring rain.

“Red or yellow, black or white,
they are precious in His sight…”
ripples of Sunday memories
disturbed the surface
of my stillness.

A Black gunner,
A Puerto Rican NR2 commander,
A Caucasian driver, and
a young Sergeant
of Vietnamese heritage…
a photo framed by newsprint.
Roosting together in their heroism
atop an armored vehicle -
birds of a different feather,
flocking together,
where storms of lead reign
and reservoirs fill with blood.

Sacred moments of reflection - 
my silence rippled
by the melody of the cell phone.
A Cherokee friend,
calling to sing 
the birthday song.

Details | Kay Caputi Poem

Tears For Tennessee

In paranormal grief,
ectoplasm drifts down Peters Street
then winds deeper into the Quarter
searching for his haunt –
a corner table at Galatoire’s
where ghost writers meet,
but table and spirits 
are no longer around.

Painted white chairs
from under the wisteria
at the Court of Two Sisters
drift out to see
cause for the mournful silence
of Preservation Hall. 
And at Rue Toulouse,
room number nine
of Maison de Ville
waits weeping for her lover’s return.

No more seeds will be planted
in the dark furrows of Elysian Fields.
Only one colored lantern at 632 
remains to light the way 
for the kindness of strangers
he somehow knew
we’d all come to depend upon…
today.

Details | Kay Caputi Poem

101 Elder Road

The house on Elder Street is old,
menopausal in fact, 
with no signs of children at play.
A lovingly maintained lawn 
rolls gently from front porch
to the vine-covered mailbox 
standing guard alongside
the blacktop pavement.
No fences hinder a visitor,
four-legged or two.

Built of strong stuff,
possessing a concrete foundation,
its exterior is real brick - not veneer.
Belonging once to a king, 
this castle’s only turret
is a mighty stone chimney 
capable of warming hearth and hearts.
Inside, a man could serenade his wife
while she let down her hair
without the neighbors hearing.

Then why the carefully stenciled
‘Reduced for Quick Sale’ sign
plunged deeply into the earth 
near the verdigris number marker?
Why not instead,
‘Costs More – Appreciated with Age’?
Weathered house or leathered man –
fewer days of existence
makes one more desirable,
they say.

Sometimes outward blemishes
become more a factor in determining worth
than warmth, character, 
and undeniable inner-charm,
but true value can be recognized
in the beauty of a deal, not curb appeal.
101 Elder Road would be a good investment.
The spirit within comes free.

Details | Kay Caputi Poem

Frostbitten

Pungent fresh pine scented breezes
Slither between boughs of cedar
Leaving frigid kisses to ride
Fragrant laurel chilled by winter

Slivers of January light
Bounce off the rich damp forest floor
Brittle stems of wild azalea
Wait pregnant one trimester more

Armies of crisp brown leaves parade
Over crystallized chartreuse moss
Where tendrils of life hold on fast
So the highland suffers no loss

Icicle slopes of emery
Weeping frozen stalactite tears
Remember the summer soul mates
Still passionate despite their years

Somewhere lost in cold reverie
She waits for the lovers’ return
A mountain cloaked in loneliness
Decomposes when left to yearn

Details | Kay Caputi Poem

Scruples

Principles that govern
a man’s thoughts and actions
are often purchased 
with unspent desire.

Scruples, 
logical ethics and morals,
are high-priced considering 
the value of pleasure.

A loyal and steadfast
husband to a frigid wife
mortgages his heart, 
and the affection of angels
is his only 
accumulated interest.

Details | Kay Caputi Poem

Enigma

Solitary footsteps
crushing autumn leaves
against the forest floor
resemble night sounds,
tossing and turning,
rustling linens upon which 
risks of confessions are weighed.
Dare those truths be spoken?

Would silence provide
more peaceful slumber
than admitting thoughts
of selfish needs,
specifics required 
to quench desire,
and declarations of intent 
laced with uncertainty?
Does your heart crave 
continued stillness?

Will you be startled
when the offer is made,
the love professed?
Will you flee - like doe facing fox,
or surrender having longed 
for words waiting stalled 
upon these trembling lips 
dry with fear of rejection?

Even odds my words,
placed face-up on the table
will win your hand or be raked aside
with autumn’s spent grandeur
to die rotting on cold ground.
Dare I gamble
on a fifty-fifty chance?

Details | Kay Caputi Poem

Maimed

Your curiosity pulled
the poisoned dirk of loneliness
from the deepest chamber 
of my quaking heart.
With steady hand 
pressed to the open wound,
the healing process began
as wonder turned to love.

After washing away 
festering insecurities
then wrapping me 
in the gauze of your embrace,
you breathed into me 
new desire to subsist. 
Your devotion became 
an unguent balm.
Kissing my heart
made it well.

Now I wear an untoughened scar
capable of growing stronger
through days and nights 
of togetherness or gaping again
should the straight-bladed 
dagger of solitude 
be repositioned.
I tremble,
hold my breath,
in frightened anticipation,
loathing the thoughts
of lovelessness
cutting through me
again.

Details | Kay Caputi Poem

Higher Planes

On metallic wings of hope,
violent noise propels man
through clouds of faith,
through the troposphere
and beyond
in accelerated exploration.

With every pound of thrust,
prayers gain altitude,
and the wonder
of universal forces
is magnified.

In time we'll know
if they've seen
the Eye of God.

Details | Kay Caputi Poem

Viper of Intemperance

With a simultaneous gasp for air,
a trembling hand lifts the bottle.

Throat-burning venom snakes
its way across the tongue as
hot liquid arrows slither
toward their target;
a petrified pit waiting
to receive the coveted sting.

White-fanged memories
lie coiled, and ready to strike
until doused repeatedly
with liberal doses 
of fiery forgetfulness.

You rattle around
in my consciousness.
Whiskey takes you 
out of my mind.

Details | Kay Caputi Poem

Forevergreen

Standing tall, always reaching towards God 
you are firmly planted 
in the rough, rocky soil of my life. 
You wrap me in your winter warmth 
when biting frost creeps ‘round, 
and in spring, repel torrential rains 
so they fall gently on those 
living humbly in your shadow. 

When an August sun blisters the world, 
you are the oasis of which I dream, 
under whom I long to sleep. 
Your pliable limbs are supportive 
in weather foul or fair 
and when hot, malodorous winds 
of sorrow sweep over me, 
your cool essence sweetens the breeze. 

You are my shield from storms of dismay 
and now when we’ve reached our autumn, 
your somber, leafless majesty 
silhouettes my grey horizon 
and embellishes it with 
streaks of golden sunset hope. 
You are constant, unchanging, 
always verdant. You are my 
forevergreen.