Category Archives: Art

The Lindens are in Flower

On these nights in July When you must be elsewhere The bedroom still grows warm And I open the window to breathe. Outside, the lindens are in flower. When I close my eyes, Their scent seeps into the sheets And … Continue reading

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The Stars Turn in Silence

Most nights when you are not here I open my window and listen To how the wind moves in the trees Like your breath quick in my ears. No wind tonight since sunset. The stars, Restless as always, turn in … Continue reading

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The Feet of Blue Herons

If you happen to live in another town, Or country, or even galaxy As dim and distant in time as in space From these words, this language, the narrow Range of pitch across its plosive phonemes, Do not worry if … Continue reading

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Ocean Sounds in the Distance

You’ll find, if you sit under lilacs And watch the people pass by, The wind will bring you their murmurs As sibilant and seemingly sensical As the ocean sounds in the distance Responding to gravity’s mumbled Recitations of the numbers … Continue reading

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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

This Way and That

I’m not here to tell you just how the days must flow. They will flow as they will, as water down any grade; Not because it seeks a slope but because one is there. And the stream is dark in … Continue reading

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