Author Archives: John MacKenzie

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.

Looking West Across the Marsh, Late Afternoon

The herons are preliminary Scrawls, penciled faint against the sky, Most with their bodies tilted at forty-five Degrees to the imaginary Horizon at the vanishing point, Gliding in on barely discernible arcs; Two are turning and curling their wings In … Continue reading

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Lilacs Convulsed the Sea

Hello again, it’s been a while Since we walked that lonely mile Together to an empty beach Full of silences we couldn’t breach. The moon brimmed full—all promises Of love and lingering kisses And quiet mornings with words unsaid That … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Astrophysics, Cliches, Cosmology, Country song, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie Poetry, Lilacs, Memory, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Quatrains, Sea songs, Spring, The Brain, The Earth, The Moon, The Sea, The Sky, Tide, Time | Leave a comment

The Spring Wind Cannot

Midnight in mid-June, Lilacs heavy in the air. I bare my neck now, But the spring wind cannot find All the places your lips touched.

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As the Sun Goes Down

Do not mistake these for slowness, Not a lazy evening near the ocean With the gentle-seeming stirring Amongst black strands of seaweed In shallows—for this is only the waves’ Awed whisper of the weight of the sea; Not the bank … Continue reading

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Looking for Lilacs

June 5—butter stays Hard on the table— I’d go looking for lilacs— If I could find my long johns

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Spring Wind From the South

If age makes me blank and hum of piss Remember that I now say this: This inky apple blossom scent— That perfumers from here to Ghent Have tried and failed to reinvent (With its aftertaste of a first kiss), That … Continue reading

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Recursions of Green (poems from old notebooks, January 2011)

There’s a poem where you step out of a fountain’s column of water, morning sun low behind you, and the water stops as you leave it, column branching in wide arcs as lily stems below the flowers. In that poem … Continue reading

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