Coffee in heaven
You’ll be greeted
By a nice cup of coffee
When you get to heaven
And strains of angelic harmony. Stretch to the fullest.
But wouldn’t you be devastated
If they only serve decaffeinated
While from the percolators of hell
a kind of coffeepot in which boiling water in a repeatedprocess is forced up a hollow stem
Your soul was assaulted metaphor
By satan’s fresh espresso smell. metaphor
MESSAGE: not everything you want or wish for can be found in the right place.
Theme: Dissapointement
I am listening now…
I am listening now, the past is past, Repetition
I’m here. I’m sitting beside your bed.
Speak to me now. It’s time at last
To make amends.The past is dead. Methaphor
I’m listening, now. I’m here, my dear.
Your spotted hands are soft as fur Simile
Speak to me, now. I’ve ears to hear,
They are not so deaf as once they were.
I am listening, now. I’m done with fuss;
Babble of treachery, love or pain, to talk idly, irrationally
Speak of yourself, of them, of us—
Speak of the ghosts that fill the rain. Repetition
I am listening, now. I left it late,
Later than ever we thought or knew.
Speak to me. Please. Unbar the gate. Methaphor
Turn back, my dear. I’m here for you.
Message: it’s never too late to make amends.
Theme: guilt.
A Barred Owl
The warping night air having brought the boom Methaphor
Of an owl’s voice into her darkened room,
We tell the wakened child that all she heard
Was an odd question from a forest bird, personnification
Asking of us, if rightly listened to,
“Who cooks for you?” and then “Who cooks for you?”
Words, which can make our terrors bravely clear,
Can also thus domesticate a fear,
And send a small child back to sleep at night
Not listening for the sound of stealthy flight done
Or dreaming of some small thing in a claw
Message: The poem shows us how we react and percieve fear.
Theme: Fear.
Flag
What's that fluttering in a breeze?
Its just a piece of cloth
that brings a nation to its knees. Metaphor.
What's that unfurling from a pole?
It's just a piece of cloth
that makes the guts of men grow bold. Metaphor.
What's that rising over a tent?
It's just a piece of cloth Repetition
that dares the coward to relent.
What's that flying across a field?
It's just a piece of cloth
that will outlive the blood you bleed.
How can I possess such a cloth?
Just ask for a flag my friend.
Then bind your conscience to the end.
Message : people have so much respect for symbolic things.
Theme : fear.
Solitude
It’s something they carry with them
– explorers night shifts seamen –
like a good pair of binoculars
or a camera case
perfectly and deeply compartmented.
It has a quiet patina
that both absorbs and reflects
like a valuable instrument simile
you have to sign for
– contract with alone – personnification
and at the end of the voyage
you get to keep.
Sometimes it’s very far away.
Sometimes so close repetition.
at first you think the person next to you
is picking up putting down
a personal cup
a book in another language
before you realise what
– when talk has moved off
leaning its arms
on someone else’s table –
is being
handed to you.
Message: solitude is something a person chooses.
Theme: Loneliness
My mother's old leather handbag,
crowded with letters she carried
all through the war. The smell
of my mother's handbag: mints
and liptsick and Coty powder.
The look of those letters, softened
and worn at the edges, opened,
read, and refolded so often. Metaphor.
crowded with letters she carried
all through the war. The smell
of my mother's handbag: mints
and liptsick and Coty powder.
The look of those letters, softened
and worn at the edges, opened,
read, and refolded so often. Metaphor.
Letters from my father. Odour
of leather and powder, which ever
since then has meant womanliness,
and love, and anguish, and war.
of leather and powder, which ever
since then has meant womanliness,
and love, and anguish, and war.
Message : Women pay special attention to ordinary things in life.
Theme : scents
If you can't bring yourself to build
a snowman or even to clench to hold tightly
a snowball or two to fling Repetition
at the pine tree trunk, at least
find some reason to take you out
find some reason to take you out
of yourself: scrape a patch of grass clear
for the birds maybe; prod at your shrubs to poke
for the birds maybe; prod at your shrubs to poke
so they shake off the weight, straighten up;
or just stump about leaving prints
of your boots, your breath steaming out Metaphor.
or just stump about leaving prints
of your boots, your breath steaming out Metaphor.
Promise. Don't let yourself in
for this moment again: the end
of the afternoon, drawing the curtains
on the glare of the garden, a whole Metaphor
for this moment again: the end
of the afternoon, drawing the curtains
on the glare of the garden, a whole Metaphor
day of snow nobody's trodden.
Message:
Theme: Winter
Storm Windows
People are putting up storm windows now,
Or were, this morning, until the heavy rain
Drove them indoors. So, coming home at noon,
I saw storm windows lying on the ground, metaphor/ personnification.
Or were, this morning, until the heavy rain
Drove them indoors. So, coming home at noon,
I saw storm windows lying on the ground, metaphor/ personnification.
frame-full of rain; through the water and glass
I saw the crushed grass, how it seemed to stream
Away in lines like seaweed on the tide Simile
I saw the crushed grass, how it seemed to stream
Away in lines like seaweed on the tide Simile
Or blades of wheat leaning under the wind.
The ripple and splash of rain on the blurred glass
Seemed that it briefly said, as I walked by,
Something that I should have liked to say to you,
Something . . .the dry grass bent under the pane
Brimful of bouncing water . . . something of Repetition.
The ripple and splash of rain on the blurred glass
Seemed that it briefly said, as I walked by,
Something that I should have liked to say to you,
Something . . .the dry grass bent under the pane
Brimful of bouncing water . . . something of Repetition.
A swaying clarity which blindly echoes Metaphor
This lonely afternoon of memories Personnification
And missed desires, while the wintry rain
Unspeakable the distance in the mind!)
Runs on the standing windows and away. Personnification.
Unspeakable the distance in the mind!)
Runs on the standing windows and away. Personnification.
Message:
Theme: Regret
