Author: Summer

On Guard

tick tocks the days of our lives
fencing for safety of our hearts
blueberry pie or apple-pan-dowdie
we break our own hearts says Shorty
with fanciful expectations
elections whistling dixie
painted faces wiry smiles
counting down to Turkey day
who will be the pumpkin eater
who shoots off their thumb
when a simple thumb’s up will do
if we decorated Thanksgiving day
with Christmas decorations
and Halloween becomes thanks
can we save the leaves of Autumn
and let down our guard?

I Sing What You Loved by Gabriel Mistral

I sing what you loved, my life
So you’ll come closer and listen, my life
So you’ll remember the world where you lived
As it grows late I’m singing, my shadow.

I don’t want to stay silent, my life
Without my faithful cry, how could you find me?
What sign would declare me, my life?

I’m the same one who was yours, my life
Not slow or delayed or lost
Come at nightfall, my life
Come remembering a song, my life
If you recognize that it’s a song you learned
And if my name you remember.

I wait for you at no place and no time
Don’t fear night or fog or rainstorms
Come on or off the pathway
Call me to where you are, my soul
And walk straight to me, my companion.

translated from Spanish by Jodey Bateman

Canto Que Amabas

Yo canto lo que tú amabas, vida mía,
por si te acercas y escuchas, vida mía,
por si te acuerdas del mundo que viviste,
al aterdecer yo canto, sombra mía.

Yo no quiero enmudecer, vida mía.
¿Cómo sin mi grito fiel me hallarías?
¿Cuál señal, cuál me declara, vida mía?

Soy la misma que fue tuya, vida mía.
Ni lenta ni trascordada ni perdida.
Acude al anochecer, vida mía,
ven recordando un canto, vida mía,
si la canción reconoces de aprendida
y si mi nombre recuerdas todavía.

Te espero sin plazo y sin tiempo.
No temas noche, nebline ni aguacero.
Acude con sendero o sin sendero.
Llámame adonde tú eres, alma mía,
y marcha recto hacia mí, compañero.

WHO LISTENS TO THE EARTH? by T.H. Keyes (1946-2001) Poem

who listens to the Earth?
who now hears her impassioned plea for mercy?
who speaks for the Earth?
who watches as she burns?
who strips her of vital soil,
teeming wildlife, and helpless trees?

think of eons past
millenniums of slow, ponderous growth
and realize the Earth to be
so much older, wiser than we

feel the Earth breathe and sigh
a living being, one harmonious organism,
so much greater and more lasting than we

splendid diversity,
ever-changing patterns,
interwove, interdependent,
intertwined by life’s essence
yet each plant and creature an individual,
uniquely precious

who listens to the Earth?
who will now hear her call?
who among her children is worthy to inherit,
to be reformed by her coming natural judgement,
and learn to love again
her calm and ancient living voice?

My Father Who Art In Heaven

.

did you get a plenary indulgence
for every house you built
for your growing family
who’s final number was nine?

)one for the house you built and lost
during the first Great Depression
)one for the chicken coop
you made into a home
)one for the chicken coop / garage
as number of babies grew
)one for the two story
when we reached the final number nine

ok she knocked two off
for bad behavior
he knocked off one
for good measure
now there is one
plenary indulgence
if Heaven is True

and yeah, i remember the rules
one plenary indulgence
is insurance into heaven
and yeah, i remember Catholic teachings
of … sure … you can buy a
plenary indulgence
with a little hard cash please

“the yellow green of springtime
promises potential
where the dead horse lay”

no i would not judge what’s your song
mother and father’s intention
is only a heart beat away

.

let’s kid ourselves

at least the butting bison
are less visible
having taken on
more culturally acceptable ways
to woo women their way

way back in the days
at least
every man’s every woman’s
sexuality was understood
and honored
i heard the elder say
“full moon and empty arms”
a fond memory of long ago

oh the flail of the flying fish
trailing a satellite close ahead
i know the man made
i want to know you
perhaps i never will

tonight, for now
i’m walking in Wonderland dreams
dreams of coming home

My Jake Poem

.

i wondered today thru the poems, Jake,
the ones i published, hard copy,
mine — and others

not gonna speak here
about your poems
or the one that found me you

my meandering didn’t start at the beginning
of publishing, i’ve wondered there quite often,
perhaps i will again, but not now

quite near the beginning, mid ’90’s
where my little ezine was born
i found interest of note,
mine
and others,
seventeen years post publishing,
clear as bell ringing
those that touched my heart again,
those remembered with hurt
i passed on by
passed by also
those
with neither

about one hour sufficed
to pause, to ponder,
to remember
my jake and all his facets
most important to me now

this day when i measured my life
as seventeen years a nurse
as twenty-four into poetics

bringing me around to Jake
my longest lasting understander
who never needed to ask me
for whom i write

tonight, my Jake,
i write for thee

.

first letter in last letter out

.

turns out
unknown but known
inside the outer covering
it’s getting cold
personal i say
not universal
one can hope
and do
lethal are the final scratchings
cultural
future shocks having come and gone
how many times too many
to count
will the last one out have a light
to turn out
one last shooting star remarking
here!
and gone again!

.

Good Grief Reza Sayah! CNN anchor

.

Charlie wants me to ask you
what is an Iranian doing
on national news (CNN at least)
espousing
US and Israel
needs to be “very worried”
about your country, Iran.

This Country Girl wants to know
) why and when you left Iran,
how and whaa-t?

for give me
i just can’t stop imagining
a world, this world
where all nuclear weapons
degenerate in the place
where all them that has ’em
and they
will be left to clean up
their messy pollution
.

if i could kill yesterday

.

no, not kill…un-birth it,
yesterday, so
i wouldn’t have to knowingly know

there’s a kind of hurt
all over the world
all over the world
tonight

and it’s a powerful machine
of human flesh
from
“Ain’t gonna take it anymore!”
to
“Can you hear us now?”

one half hour till morning
the odor is not fading
nor the resolve

if i could kill yesterday i would not
somewhere somebodies learned
something
if not only
human evolution in time
for Compassion

if we ever needed you
we need you now

.