| |
|
|
1.
|
A Cherry Tree Wind Was Blowing
A Cherry Tree Wind Was Blowing
a cherry tree wind was blowing
Mary Poppins will not depart
the children will be good forever
even when the windows rattle
from wars that can't be helped
nothing falls from the shelf.
they will eat their cherry cobbler
sitting straight up in their chairs
when the cherry wind is blooming
and a beatific light sets the weathervanes on fire
with no harm done-
and everything is as charming as pink cakes
on blue plates and the story's not
adjourned and
the war is won
I'm breaking off this barley sugar poem for you
and the gilt stars are pasted back in Heaven
where they belong
and no one needs to be forewarned-
mary angela douglas 17 august 2008
mary douglas
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
2.
|
Selling Garcia-Lorca
.'...a las cinco de la tarde' -Federico Garcia-Lorca
selling garcia-lorca
I walked to the edge of
the olive groved sea
and wept into it
the citrus stars shone
down on the last moon
in its lemon yellow binding
selling garcia lorca all
all the deep
grass shadowed singing
with the fabulous flowers
opening
to the same green page
I try to forget I had to ransom you
bilingual edition
complete in a world of incompletions
es que yo no estoy completa
la sombra beatifica lo sabe*
they paid out 1.20 in the bookstore
for the entire works of Garcia Lorca
enough to go home
I spent 40 dollars
in another lifetime
skipping lunch on several
days to buy words unfiltered
and cerise as pomegranates
silver under the olives I say goodbye
to you
where you were bordering
my mind.
now like Rachel
I cannot be consoled at five o clock in the
afternoon
or at any other hour
mary angela douglas 22 august 2009
*but I am not complete and the beatific shadow knows it
mary douglas
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
3.
|
Anatoly Konenko and His Rose Books
Anatoly Konenko and His Rose Books
waiting for the beautiful ship to come
we stood on sinking continents
our eyes flooded with meteor showers
in a compact room
an artist sat
making books out of dried
rosepetals
children in their sleep
waiting for the beautiful ship to come
might never know
the roseleaves he was turning
at precisely the midnight
of the world
bird shadows over the blue
green
melting poles could understand;
sensing the end of all auroras
they sang only for him
the artist arranging rose pages
binding with flowers the...
with fine mauve stitching that
would not come undone
rose inscriptions
rose inscriptions
rose inscriptions
was all that God could read
mary angela douglas 13 june 2009
mary douglas
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
4.
|
Beauty Asks for a Rose
to the Saviour of all saviours
only bring me the Rose of all roses
clouded pink in winter's storms
the Artic rose no one can comprehend
or reconfigure
the high serene silver
rose confounding moonlight
recovered by kings in flight
from their lost kingdoms
the one that is mirrored in
the starry triptich
whenever I close my eyes
only bring me the cardinal Rose, the rose of
hidden music, scrolled and scrolled the
wounded Rose
the silence of petals streaming
the heart within the heart within the heart
mary angela douglas 4 december 2009
mary douglas
|
| |
|