Luther Emerson Van Gorder
Monday, August 24, 2009
Medusa's Kitchen published this 'atmosphere' today.
MIDDLE GRAY: AN ATMOSPHERE
Electric blue neon snakes
Out of her mouth.
One step and everything twists
Out of its axis. Middle gray.
Summer used to be like this
Cool mornings. Fog rolls up
From the gorge and fills
The streets. Middle gray.
A blinking yellow light
Indicates what used to be
An intersection. Totally
Deserted now. Middle gray.
High above the streets a telephone
Insists that it is important.
Just as quickly it is silenced. Middle gray.
Previously we defended
Our right to communicate
Freely. All was lost
In the floods. middle gray.
From the edge of town
Rockets arc into the air.
Deep trails of smoke
Stretch out behind them. Middle gray.
We change clothing. Middle gray.
Our identities are erased. Middle gray.
All transmission ceases. Middle gray.
Middle gray.
Friday, August 21, 2009
The Harp In The Circle
Medusa's Kitchen published this very recent poem today
THE HARP IN THE CIRCLE
The hard songs come through
Holes in the night sky,
An impending electricity of purpose
Gathers into patterns, constellations
Remembered from dares we took
As children, stories around
The night time fires,
The stars, reminders of our bone
Dust congealed within our sorry bodies.
Touched with grace for a moment,
they are able to form a mouth,
then a music, then a welter of instruments.
We hear them as animal voices,
Frogs and loons, crow talk,
The coughing of a cat,
Slap of fish on quiet water.
Oh let us sing the hard songs.
Songs of goodbye and of parting,
Of winds on the moors and
Mists moving across bogs
where plants eat meat,
Dreaming they are gods,
Where love flees a room
Dense with violins and clarinet
Laments. Pieces of loves across
Ages of time, dead ancestors
And friends turn from our embrace
To ride the night sky forever,
To pour through shining holes in the night sky.
Monday, August 17, 2009
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