"ALMOST"S AND "NEVER WERE"S
lightening
never hurt as much,
bruises and
clenched fists
inconsequential
when compared to years of flinching, my
track shoe heart
running
a three minute mile at
any
sound of impact.
hail
never hurt as much,
direct hatred
never brought
the same pain
as knives twisted into spines
friendly
fire
digging under skin
till
innards drown,
devoured
by the friendliest hands
love
never hurt as much
too pure,
too certain to
manifest
demons like lost hope,
false
expectations.
death
never hurt as much
as blurrier things
like
Thunder
Rain
and Infatuation
© 2008 Esteban Colón
. . .
LISTENING FOR THE SUNRISE
There is no
comfort in the early morning
stillness
shadows staining
the bed sheets with
damp
sticky anxieties
eavesdropping
on unanswered questions
blurred at the edges
thunder rain infatuation
listening
for the sunrise
creeping through the grass
on the balls of its feet.
© 2008 Matthew S. Barton
. . .
She set down cards,
Cassandra
billed as entertainment
and
my body vibrated,
hand
tapping shoulders with realization,
her
harrowing words hardly noticed
till
my
tongue rang alarms of the last time
this
happened to Phil,
recalled her
dire prediction, the
laughter,
last time this
happened to Phil,
somebody died.
© 2008 Esteban Colón
. . .
IN THE REAR VIEW MIRROR
I don’t know Phil
or Mark or
Stephen or whatever
his name is
I don’t know the woman sitting next to him
reading a magazine
or the kids strapped
in the back
seat watching movies
I don’t know where they are going or
who is waiting for
them
and I don’t know
why he is in such a
hurry to make a
left turn
before the light changes
crossing the double yellow line in his
brown minivan with the
sagging
rear suspension
all I know is the
last time
this happened to Phil
someone died
in that brown minivan
and some poor sonofabitch couldn’t
find the words to
say everything
is okay
because Phil is in a hurry
or whatever his
name is.
© 2008 Matthew S. Barton
. . .
POETRY 101
This
is the self explanatory beginning
the
portion of the poem used to call for attention
or
get you to
instantly relate to the speaker.
[pause] line break
Stanza two
fills with
deeper description, the
continued narrative
the
rising action of drama
that,
or
charged repetition of elements in the first stanza
[pause] line break
Stanza three
climax and falling action
for shorter poems
build
for longer
colorful metaphor
leading to
a dramatic,
possibly ironic
ending
[pause] This is not a line break. I just ran out of room.
© 2008 Esteban Colón
. . .
RIPPLES ON THE WATER
I just ran out of room
for all of the
answers to questions
I never asked
why I still smile at the
touch of a
caterpillar crawling up the
back of my hand
pebbles breaking
the surface of a pond
I never asked why
the swallows
return to capistrano and
I am not waiting
for anyone to explain
why this
isn’t a line break
I just ran out of room.
© 2008 Matthew S. Barton
lightening
never hurt as much,
bruises and
clenched fists
inconsequential
when compared to years of flinching, my
track shoe heart
running
a three minute mile at
any
sound of impact.
hail
never hurt as much,
direct hatred
never brought
the same pain
as knives twisted into spines
friendly
fire
digging under skin
till
innards drown,
devoured
by the friendliest hands
love
never hurt as much
too pure,
too certain to
manifest
demons like lost hope,
false
expectations.
death
never hurt as much
as blurrier things
like
Thunder
Rain
and Infatuation
© 2008 Esteban Colón
. . .
LISTENING FOR THE SUNRISE
There is no
comfort in the early morning
stillness
shadows staining
the bed sheets with
damp
sticky anxieties
eavesdropping
on unanswered questions
blurred at the edges
thunder rain infatuation
listening
for the sunrise
creeping through the grass
on the balls of its feet.
© 2008 Matthew S. Barton
. . .
She set down cards,
Cassandra
billed as entertainment
and
my body vibrated,
hand
tapping shoulders with realization,
her
harrowing words hardly noticed
till
my
tongue rang alarms of the last time
this
happened to Phil,
recalled her
dire prediction, the
laughter,
last time this
happened to Phil,
somebody died.
© 2008 Esteban Colón
. . .
IN THE REAR VIEW MIRROR
I don’t know Phil
or Mark or
Stephen or whatever
his name is
I don’t know the woman sitting next to him
reading a magazine
or the kids strapped
in the back
seat watching movies
I don’t know where they are going or
who is waiting for
them
and I don’t know
why he is in such a
hurry to make a
left turn
before the light changes
crossing the double yellow line in his
brown minivan with the
sagging
rear suspension
all I know is the
last time
this happened to Phil
someone died
in that brown minivan
and some poor sonofabitch couldn’t
find the words to
say everything
is okay
because Phil is in a hurry
or whatever his
name is.
© 2008 Matthew S. Barton
. . .
POETRY 101
This
is the self explanatory beginning
the
portion of the poem used to call for attention
or
get you to
instantly relate to the speaker.
[pause] line break
Stanza two
fills with
deeper description, the
continued narrative
the
rising action of drama
that,
or
charged repetition of elements in the first stanza
[pause] line break
Stanza three
climax and falling action
for shorter poems
build
for longer
colorful metaphor
leading to
a dramatic,
possibly ironic
ending
[pause] This is not a line break. I just ran out of room.
© 2008 Esteban Colón
. . .
RIPPLES ON THE WATER
I just ran out of room
for all of the
answers to questions
I never asked
why I still smile at the
touch of a
caterpillar crawling up the
back of my hand
pebbles breaking
the surface of a pond
I never asked why
the swallows
return to capistrano and
I am not waiting
for anyone to explain
why this
isn’t a line break
I just ran out of room.
© 2008 Matthew S. Barton
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