Skip to content. | Skip to navigation

Personal tools
Sections
You are here: Home / Musings and Amusements / Musings / Poetry

Poetry

by Ken Manheimer — last modified Aug 21, 2023 09:31 AM
Filed under:
Sometimes I want say more than I am able. And sometimes when I try I wind up with more than I expect.

 

please stare

please stare

worship a thousand tiny gardens 
swim some luscious summer lake
& drive shadow's frantic storm
away

[years ago]

Memory

Memory, i protest, is a promise in bad faith.
Like the residue of fading dreams in morning's light,
divorced from the wisdom of their discovery,
it fades, and shifts, and yields to the highest bidder.

In the midst of shadows,
earnest or disloyal, i still hope
to sometimes stumble on simple truth,
and have it be familiar.

[2003-09-22, 2003-10-04, 2006-04-29]

trusting breezes

it's encouraging to know
that the gentle breeze
modestly threading through
the traffic's frenzy
and dull roar
can be far more fierce
than man-made engines
ever could.

[2003-10-04, 2003-10-14, 2007-04-18]

Suddenly more obvious

We wander the aisles of a well-lit store,
and the bookshelves hum,
"here's a world", "here's another".

Browsing the nooks and crannies,
you crouch, grazing intricacies,
and I crouch beside and steady you
with my hand on the small of your back,
and you curve slightly towards me,
everywhere.

Your tummy too I hold,
your hands hold mine on you,
and urgency that's been lurking
appears, suddenly more obvious
than the brightly lit shelves.

Holding hands to belly, we lean,
cheek to cheek we balance,
we move close and closer still.

Time, for once, leaves center stage,
yielding to us, grace.
My every motion is towards you,
and yours to me,
and we cannot falter,
for in these moments (timeless),
no direction is away.

[2006-09-22, 2006-10-20, 2007-04-18, 2007-11-26, 2009-05-12, 2014-08-19, 2018-02-24]

 

forever walk

walking slowly from the barn to the mansion
each step its own
each interval enough unto itself
no effort required for the current timeless bit
no effort for the ever that i walk.

[2003-10-02, 2004-06-30]

Spinning

The world is spinning, it seems,
faster.

Connection upon connection brings us further
together as if we're all around.

But we are.

If people survive
becoming one big family
we might survive anything.

In this midst
I count your blessings
(like, arriving home, safe)
among mine.

[2011-09-22]

No ledge

knowledge on which
 to put
an excuse for
     the
       of that my
  jumbled
mind can
be

No-tion
Full fledged ling born:

Peopling my dreams
 will come.
   Infesting my illusions,
 vague half-fulments
"But what now?"
               I say:
  "I hope a poem."

[2007-04-18, 2011-05-29, 2018-02-25]

Scout, a Reverie for Winter as it Passes

Swaddled in my cloth cocoon
I wander into the chilly world.

Leaves rustle, the stream gurgles,
shadows tilt and weave.
In the crisp cool sun
quietness surrounds me,
large and lasting.

Diving into open space
I admit quiet
and turbulence.
I revel in twinges of cold
and sole liberty
of this vast world.

From and to
this eternal expanse
I return
home.

[04/10/2002, 06/16/2005, 2009-03-17, 2011-05-29, 2011-10-17, 2020-04-27]

time

time
in finite mercy
is left handed.
it complements
with
obligation, liberty;
reverie, loss.

time
spins in mute splendor
as absent gods
give and take
with unbridled generosity
nothing at all
and everything.

[2003-01-08, 2003-09-26, 2006-03-30, 2007-11-26, 29-2011-05, 21-2011-07]

I would

Oh I would
make a poem of this now
this here
I strain against,
to cast out your stain
from proud moments that I
yearn to share with you.

When will this taint fade
and once more my loneliness
become
not a begrudged cloud encroaching,
but instead, an old acquaintance -
failing to entertain,
but through no deliberate malice.

[2003-08-12, 2005-04-09, 2007-04-18]

I do

I tell the world three times: Ok. Ok. Ok.
Three times, a binding agreement.

[2002-06-21]

Always shine

"Recall the rain gift." she said,
"Always shine."
A goddess whispers through cool beauty,
"Why moan about the wind?"
Language sleeps
and moments are a place, a dream.

[years ago]

Dancing in St James parish hall

Dancing in St. James parish hall,
dusk in the garden, quiet on the street.
The abating light eventually
supplanted by the strange, warm glow
of the hospital alley's vapor lamps.

With nothing to prove
we reveled in the ease, the joy
of our mutual dances, and we
expanded ever so
into soft loving whimsy.

[2001-04-22, 2003-08-12, 2007-04-18]
Document Actions