Emily Bording's Chance Rendezvous poem

Chance Rendezvous

With fresh eyes I begin to see
ink slides like warm sap down a maple’s trunk
I use my pen to draw you closer to me

Feathered quill in hand
soft breezes tremble it’s delicate tuft
weaving in and out like thoughts between brows

Watching the first to rise
second stomps right on top
both wrestle to page

Pushing and shoving not one sits idle
flexing and posing
each competing for style

facts refashioned with subtle catches
threadbare memories
mended with pretty patches

lacking in vogue and devoid of all swagger
they waddle along the catwalk
wearing a secondhand wardrobe

Let them hang on the line to dry
so the wind can blow them
a sweet kiss goodbye

No longer amused
white bellied page rolls over
waiting to be scratched

No longer swayed
by double entendres whipping out of control
then falling intoxicated off their fancy runway

Come closer into the lights
my fingers rub the tine warm
wishing a maverick spark ignites

Suddenly a rogue wave crashes
swirls of ink pour out like magma
truth anchored - between dots and dashes

Poised like a mighty leviathan
whose round button eyes
eclipse the genius within

One eye flashes as mermaids go swooshing by
across the universe - the other’s marvels
as stars brush the sky

A salty spray sticks to my pen’s metal nib
I stuff it back into it’s porcupine crib
then pull the shades of my lash covered lid

Awareness settles down into a quiet dream
where silence silhouettes each sound
by chance you pull me into this moment supreme

no bias, no seams, no memories spin
Awake or asleep
you meet me, like silk on moist skin

The hollow basin of my mind
welcomes all of you, as infinitely new
like a dewdrop cradled by a petal - as it holds the sky.

Love Poem with help from W.S. Merwin

Comet of stillness princess of what is over
Come into my orbit, thrill me with your substance
Titillate my senses
Without motion, without announcing
A free fall of thoughts, words
Because I can't live without your touch.

--Group poem from Community Poetry Circle at the Santa Cruz Public Library, March 19, Jerilyn, Suzie, Juanita, Whitney and Magdalena

Kay Clark: "A poem about home" on 3-12-11

I couldn’t wait to leave my home
In Kansas, where tornadoes and other
Strong winds sweep the vast
Empty plains even emptier.

The whole country of Germany is the same
Square-mile wise as Kansas is
Except instead of space they have moss
Covered bridges around every country curve.

Some Kansans I know would object
That miles full of nothing but flat
Rolling dirt provides residents with little
Save the strong urge to escape and search the
World for safer and pleasanter abodes.

This Midwest refugee roamed around for
Twenty years seeking water, grass, trees,
Hills if not Mountains, and a happier place where
People grant wider worlds for living.