From 2004. Poems that resonate with Walt Whitman's lines---
My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and daylong ramble,
They rise together, they slowly circle around.
From 2004. Poems that resonate with Walt Whitman's lines---
My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and daylong ramble,
They rise together, they slowly circle around.
From 2004. Poems that resonate with Walt Whitman's lines---
My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and daylong ramble,
They rise together, they slowly circle around.
Waterways: Poetry in the Mainstream, Volume 25, #7
My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and daylong ramble, They rise together, they slowly circle around. Walt Whitman WATERWAYS: Poetry in the Mainstream Volume 25 Number 7* Designed, Edited and Published by Richard Spiegel & Barbara Fisher Thomas Perry, Admirable Factotum c o n t e n t s Waterways is published 11 times a year. Subscriptions -- $33 for 11 issues. Sample issues $3.50 (includes postage). Submissions will be returned only if accompanied by a stamped, self addressed envelope. Waterways, 393 St. Pauls Avenue, Staten Island, New York 10304-2127 2005 Ten Penny Players Inc. *(This magazine is published 4/05) http://www.tenpennyplayers.org James Penha 4-5 M.M. Nichols 6-7 Geoff Stevens 8 John R. Cannon 9-11 Joan Payne Kincaid 12-13 David Rogers 14-15 Ida Fasel 16-17 Bill Roberts 18 Fredrick Zydek 19-20 Robert Cooperman 21-22 John Grey 23-24 photograph by Barbara Fisher 3 Pachyjazz James Penha elephant refuses to die despite slaughter and starvation paleonecrology and diaspora the elephant rises to all occasions in silence and majesty to improvise a solo trumpet elephant 4 Koan James Penha Upon the belly of the Buddha in the ruined jungle temple snores jelly-soft a monkey about to reawaken as the tiger who now drooling by the lotus will taste nirvana. 5 Birds! swooping black-winged upward through twilight undeterred by smokes tour of daylong dusk Two by two they make flights I fancy, drawing my two by two breath in rib-caged balloons 6 Smog Days M. M. Nichols Wings and lungs propel time into spaces we are moving toward, soon to arrive See where the birds burst upward past twilight An air raid on downdrifts of the dark 7 Geoff Stevens If we merely circle around until theyve gone they will steal our eggs trash our nest 8 Floating Grace John R. Cannon The field sparrows buoyant song floats like a gentle breeze up the hill from the field below. Not powerful like the wren, or raucous like the jay; but delicate, soft and sweet; Nearly ephemeral, youre not quite sure you heard it, until it comes again and lifts your head with a warm smile on your face. Lovers at Dusk John R. Cannon He swoops in from downriver and perches near the nest; She is upstream scanning the shallows. He settles, preens, and when he sees her, he tips his head way back and gives the long eerie contact call. A thousand ring-necked ducks flutter and move nervously, all attuned to the white-headed eagle. But she doesnt even turn her head, supper is her priority. 10 Later, she glides in slow and perches in the nest tree; He comes to her, they move in close, they touch beaks. Dusk falls and the two dark silhouettes with still-white heads fade into one dark mass; Geese land, ducks settle, herons squawk. Soon only gentle sounds pervade; Then, a soul-piercing unison call, as the eagles bless the night. 11 Joan Payne Kincaid silver lights drip on the birch in a gray drizzle of fall finches have grown subdued cold wet feathers among final yellow leaves 12 Who Else Joan Payne Kincaid Supposedly health conscious runs to a donut shop fresh out of the dentists Youre all set for six months for a strawberry jelly and coffee down- at- the- harbor- escape from tooth scaling to a familiar comforting flavor observing geese form a v in water and sky A fisherman passes recalling one at the ocean last week using a rod and reel not to catch fish rather to fly kites this day an eagle was cast in the sky over dunes and waves with migrating raptors he adjusts for the wind, and the unexpected... a wifes recent death the reason he began this partially detached hobby. paper eagle high in the wind tethered to a fishing pole nearly free Late October, Near Dusk David Rogers I felt like a tree, walking, and then a rock and knew at last to stand still and listen for the other footsteps: deer, bird, snake, ant, squirrel walk their paths, let feet spell out their names 14 in a language not even poets have fully decoded: its alphabet has no symbols, does not communicate in runes. Its only meaning is itself, its only record the wind, but I am learning slowly to speak it. 15 Coming Home Ida Fasel The island is hidden in morning haze but the ferry docks in clear as I am clear of wandering the world, the best of it, returns. Through bare trees the sky shows autumn blue with a gold tint in it. A partridge sights me, keeps distance close. I am aware of others unseen squirrel, fox want to know about me. 16 Where the old house was the give and take of curtain in the wind. I used to go in by the window, calling Anybody home? No clock on the shelf, no shelf yet time rights itself, given time. Im a boomerang made to return at the precise moment they do, welcoming me in a rustle of leaves, marveling how I too have changed. 17 Fascination Bill Roberts With tears rolling copiously down my cheeks I watch with horrified fascination As the row house two doors from ours Is consumed by hungry flames And choking smoke while firemen Send urgent streams of pressurized water Through gapping windows and the roof Causing a boy younger even than me Held in his mothers protective arms To become utterly mesmerized With satisfaction by the destructive blaze He has just moments ago purposely started. 18 Drummer Fredrick Zydek It began with a ticking roll, an isolated storm of hail pelting its way from the stretched skin until there was nothing in the noise but the clicking of heels and the steady beat of blood and heart. 19 The drummers face grew pursed as stone, eyes fixed on some polar wisdom as if the minds first dream had just rattled through his head leaving him in the ragged stance of saints. Each rap snapped into the air brittle as ice, deep as bone. Some hit like buckshot on a tin roof. Others, crisp as slivers of broken glass, quick as things that glisten, cut through the air like knives. 20 Revenge Robert Cooperman He believed revenge was easy; the two bastards in his palm and Tom needing only to squeeze to hear them howl: for the lies theyd spread about his wife, the clich true about academia: battles rapidly lethal for rewards meager as meat on a starving monkey. After Andrea trudged home one night, miserable from their pincer attacks and the deans dithering, Tom phoned a childhood friend, Dont worry about a thing, Curtis assured, an expert at terror. 21 Just dont kill them, But that night Tom couldnt sleep, the mattress conscience-thorny. In the morning, he phoned again. Do they deserve it? Curtis demanded, an attack dog unwilling to be called off, Tom remembering Curtis as a child, a teen: ferocious as a wolf with its cubs, ever since Toms small favor that Curtis believed had saved his life. 22 No Comfort John Grey I know the light is as fragile as old bones. I have picked it up in the cup of my eyes, seen it wither to dust in the seconds it takes for darkness to swallow me. 23 When you tell me there is enough sun left to guide us through the bewildering corridors of this ancient house, I nod in agreement, though my trembling fingers tell a different story. My thoughts turn to so-called friends who deserted me in times of great need. Their faces glow in the last of the light as its swallowed by the walls and windows. 24