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Leslie Philibert Poem
I don`t care at all what you do with my poems....
you can steal them,laugh at them or cut them up to make blackmail letters for your boss,you can eat them or smoke them ( as long as you bake them for two
hours in an oven),you can sing them in the toilet,kiss them, spray them on a wall
in the underground in Berlin,burn them,cover them with paint, leave them at midnight in front of a poem orphanage,or make love to them on the backseat of
an old Ford.
you can even ( if you have nothing better to do) read them..
and I hope one day my poems will grow up
and run about the park on a Summer evening.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2014
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Leslie Philibert Poem
(for Seamus Heaney)
as if the pale stones
share the warmth
between two sides
sea and field cut
early light and full morning
the path weathered and slow
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2014
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Leslie Philibert Poem
A line of stones;
the threat of so much space,
a fallen horizon.
Salt grass
coarse with rain,
nights heavy with tides
and the battered story
of the sea,the broken gong
of the moon, strange friends.
Then,I knew not what to call
the rough curves of peat,
slight of the sea,
a bodhran wind over the rocks.
When I am no more;
let me melt in the rain
of this cold coast,
its own name shaped,
the seagull`s call.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2015
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Leslie Philibert Poem
Early darkness; as oil we drip
Through the heart`s engine
In black; lemon-faced we
shadow the next,
We hesitate with tears and
stutter over earth; arms linked,
distant and cool
To scare a circle of crows
And a falling steeple,music and
words break the shocked ring,
then that is all.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2014
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Leslie Philibert Poem
Wild mint
that grows at ease
at the edge of a field
do not hide yourself in false shame
Be Proud !
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2014
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Leslie Philibert Poem
a frame cold-sprayed with
perfect tranquility; the world
and the bell are one,
a flock of wheels that join;
then the three-in-one in balance,
the sky,the moment, the crunch
of tyres on gravel,the river flows,
all suffering has gone,the day
lengthens, this is where I am.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2014
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Leslie Philibert Poem
sucked out of denim and
cotton, half in running
flat over the bedroom floor
skinless like a cartoon cat
someone I knew the day before
an underarm stainer, a tracer
a schlepper of bad deeds,
hidden in layers, now magic and gone
as I sleep as a big filling
ready to meet myself
in the morning.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2014
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Leslie Philibert Poem
Without you...
The sun would join the Union of Astral bodies and go on strike
Batman and Robin would have a big argument
The stars would be unglued and fall out of the sky
The Lunchpack of Notre Dame would drop Esmeralda..oops
John Wayne would get shot at the start of the film
Christmas would be abolished and I would never find my socks
So I think it`s clever to stay with you...
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2014
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Leslie Philibert Poem
Rome.Open city.
Unreal with paling light,
singular with stone and ochre.
Gods dyed with dust,
the unquiet dead corded
with white marble.
Heaven`s steps so cruel with belief.
My hotel.Forster. Only connect.
Words cool and dry,
the idea of a lost kingdom.
Far from the noise of this,
in shade,under pines.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2015
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Leslie Philibert Poem
Step aside,slightly,
from a beach beside
cold moving water.
A sighting in rain,
hooked on a line,
empty as a fallen bell,
an open window, opaque.
If I am distant to myself
I am lost, aware
of room, the soft crunch of shingle.
Steps of a known stranger, a shell.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2016
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