Dimanche (Des médias sociaux)

As I searched for some fine quote
A word of wisdom
A someone’s doing
Or a pretty picture painting hanging in the Louvre
A tronie’s earring hanging in the Hague
It was all right there in my hand

The way the morning light was streaming through the trees
Settling on the quiet ripples of the pool
Casting shadows across a life
Framed in a French door
Tiny birds all atwitter on the power lines
Bees abuzz between the thorns of winter blooms
Chameleons guarding the motes of our little castle
In the city

Et moi, settling into the first lines of a poem
Keyboard driven by right thumb presses
Against the letters in my hand
Until they formed a peristalith of hoary memory typed across the sinking sand.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, January, 2018

 

FACING EAST TOWARDS THE RISING SUN

Facing east towards the rising sun
Struggling through the fog in the face of the flocculent clouds
The self-named Poet Laureate of 32805

Sang an anthem of remembrance in honour of a breathless crescent moon shaking like a scythe in the hands of a tall tan man with a Samuel Beckett face

Wise weathered worn like leather
withering in his bones
Tremble tremble tumble tremble
Like the memories of the autumn leaves on the trail of Rufus Morgan

A waterfall whispering hopefulness
Such that he is once again able
To shake off the youthful longing of his yesterdays for the haggard vision of a wee small moment of today.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines

Thoughts On: Reading Berryman

Connecticut shade wrapper stained
fingers wrapped around a pen
He was off and writing again
Reading Berryman’s dark Dream Songs
Sitting in the bright May sun

Ripples of truth sought on a watery bed
Of melted, azure glacial ice
And a fresh mix of
Yellow blood spilt on the pool deck

Seeking an aphorism
Amongst crushed crustaceans
Higher thought of deeper meaning understood
Rebirth of Renaissance
Reborn at midlife
And moving: On

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, May, 2017.

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