DEDICATIONS, PLEDGES, COMMITMENTS. For the past. For my own path. For surprises. For mistakes that worked so well. For tomorrow if I'm there. For the next real thing. Then for carrying it all through whatever is necessary. For following the little god who speaks only to me. --William Stafford
Friday, October 05, 2007
Swinging Gate
My lover is a dancing bear
Who begs upon his chain.
My husband is a china bull,
All fists and horns, but tame.
My lover plays on zither-strings,
My husband tends the sheep,
And I will lie with each one while
The other is asleep.
My lover is a unicorn
Who leaves me with a baby
My husband thinks is his, and so,
And so it is, well, maybe.
The child has one clean blue eye
Bright as a willow plate.
The other eye is brown as earth
Beneath my swinging gate.
And when my bishop asks the truth
(My innocence cold dead),
I'll tell him naught but this, "Insooth,
I'd rather lie, in bed.
*
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About Me
- Joyce Ellen Davis
- 1. In dreams I am often young and thin with long blond hair. 2. In real life I am no longer young, or thin, or blonde. 3. My back hurts. 4. I hate to sleep alone. (Fortunately I don't have to!) 5. My great grandfather had 2 wives at once. 6. I wish I had more self-discipline. (I was once fired from a teaching position in a private school because they said I was "too unstructured and undisciplined." --Who, me??? Naaaahhh....) 7. I do not blame my parents for this. Once, at a parent-teacher conference, the teacher told me my little boy was "spacey." We ALL are, I told her. The whole fan damily is spacey. She thought I was kidding. I wasn't. 8. I used to travel with a theater reperatory company. My parents weren't happy about this. 9. My mother was afraid that I would run off and paint flowers on my cheeks and live in a commune, and grow vegetables. I once smoked pot. ONE TIME. 10. I don't drink or smoke. (Or swear, much. Well, I drink milk, and water, and orange juice, and stuff. Cocoa. I love Pepsi.) 11. Most of my friends are invisible. 12. I am a poet and a writer. All of my writing on these pages is copyrighted. Borrowing (without acknowledgment) is a sin.
4 comments:
Hi, just found your site... This poem 'Swinging Gate' really brings a smile to my face. Oh yeah, and I love the picture too!
There are poets-so-called, who write sing-song Hallmark card verses.
There are poets-so-called, who ransack their thesaurus and write pretentious drivel.
And then, there are real poets, for whom words wink like a lusty sailor, dance like a gypsy girl, rage like a hurricane wind and giggle like children.
You are a real poet.
Oh, so very well done. Your poem has left me with the biggest smile. Loved it!
S
This is absolutely marvelous, a very fun read.
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