Monday, November 11, 2013

I Dreamt I Was Falling...

—Photo by Robert Lee Haycock, Antioch

VETERANS DAY, 11-11-13
—Michael Cluff, Corona

The rigors and requirements
of defending a mighty entity
does take a piece of the person
away forever
recovery may never occur
no matter the intentions
no matter the efforts provided
by those who wish to help them
become better
and maybe whole again
on the return and afterward

we recognize
what these warriors
have done for us
to make us safe
in a world of instability
be it near, far
maybe even here at home
to vote even
as we please.

What motives may drive a war
can be ill-aimed
or profit-driven;
not the veterans';
they did what they did
for us first
themselves and their families


—Caschwa, Sacramento

It was at the zoo
And I was admiring the elephant
That was using an electric tusk brush

I just had to get a closer view
So of course I climbed up on
The giraffe as high as I could

But it made me kind of queasy
The way the neck bobbed way up
And then way down repeatedly

Too much of that and I went for the monkey’s
Back, hoping for a terrific camera angle
From one of the upper branches

As it ascended the tree easily
Suspended by its tail, shrieking insults
At every single branch and leaf

And there it was, the perfect shot!
If only I wasn’t upside down and swinging
Then I dreamt I was falling



What kind of car do you have?
It’s the Economy Stupid
The owner’s manual has a section
On Inflation that deals with
Tires, tempers, and prices

How best to raise your child?
Like a sunken treasure
First secure their environment
Then loosen them up for lifting
Be extra careful not to break anything

How can a person of status get a common cold?
It is called the trickle down theory
Also known as germicide economics
When workers are not paid a livable wage
It can serve to freeze investment portfolios

What is the surest way to win in Las Vegas?
Be a money counter
Don’t worry about the odds
Or losing your shirt
Just collect a salary from the House

Is home schooling really a good idea?
Absolutely, I taught all my doors
To swing both ways
And the central heat and air
Will graduate next season

—Photo by Robert Lee Haycock

—David Iribarne, Sacramento

My father loved my mother.
There was never a doubt.
They were together 35 years.
35 years of love that never died.
35 years of a fire that never faded.

     My father was afraid of fire.
     Never liked flames close to his skin.
     They sent chills down his spine.

Despite this fear,
My father was able to ignite
the love in my mother’s heart.
He never missed a chance
to tell her that she was beautiful.
Never did a moment go by
when she was not in his thoughts.

    Sparks would always scare my father.
    The heat of the blaze
    made his hairs curl.
    The flicker of the flame
    quickened his heart.

My mother’s grace, her kindness
her deep admiration for others
never sent my father astray.
It drew him to her.
He knew from first glance
that he always wanted her by his side.

    The crackle, the sound often
    frightened him.
    The orange flare made him
    stand afar.

I remember that he would
say that he loved her voice
the most.  It was so, so sweet.
She was so amazing.

    He was afraid of the flame.
    It was a phobia of his.

My mother, though, was a radiant
flame that he made sure to be
tied to forever.

—David Iribarne

That night everything stood still
time did not matter
minutes, seconds didn’t exist.

I was in a whirlwind,
my problems did not matter
you took them away.

You said, “I could kiss you all night,”
and I became lost in you.
Three months have passed
I am still swimming in your sea
I have never experienced anything like this.

Our time has been short
but it seems so long.
You have changed
so much in my life—
made so many waves ripple.

The water is deep, but with you
I feel safe, comfortable.
I never feel like I can’t stay afloat.

Everything about you
makes me feel serene.
Your beauty lights my day,
your smile brings me peace,
your warm heart puts me at ease,
your laugh takes pressure away.

That night time stood still;
it has been the same ever since.
Nothing has changed.
I still echo what you said
even more so
and with even more love.


—David Iribarne

You can’t just get me going
and then disappear.
That night we traded each other’s
breath, our eyes and lips
met one another.

It was a night to remember,
but I didn’t want it to be just a memory.
I had to come back.
I had to make sure you knew
what you meant to me.

I don’t mind the dark,
but you make my day so bright.
You make the sunflowers bloom.
You make my heart warm.

I have to come back
to let you know
I want to see you more.
I want to spend more time with you.
I don’t want to hide anymore.
I want to taste forever and
I want to taste it with you.


—David Iribarne

Against her will
She looks at the mirror
Her reflection is different.

She takes a lengthy stare
what happened, why.
She realizes the strength
she once had is now deteriorating.

She looks at her legs—
they used to bulge with fat.
Now they’re all bone.
She can almost grasp
her hand around one of them. 

Touching her face she wonders
where her energy has gone:
she used to work all day and night.
Now all she does
is moan and scream.
She moves from lying on the couch
to her bedroom
only to lie down again.  

She runs her hand down her body,
exploring her scar from her mastectomy.
Feeling the place where
her soft breast used to be.
Water wells up in her eyes
and she cries
about the lost hours, days and years.

Today's LittleNip:

Leaves of change
cover the black/white
young hamster
now on the edge of Clendenning Wood
the shoebox holds
it well
the fur to remain
soft a large time
and the tears of the sky
and any aged human
enter in willingly
so the thirst of this existence
is sated while that
in the other realm

to be

—Michael Cluff

—Medusa, with thanks to today's contributors, and a reminder that David Iribarne will be reading in Sacramento with Christine Easterly this coming Wednesday night; scroll down to our "bulletin board" on the blue board (below the green board) at the right of this column for details. In fact, there's a LOT going on in NorCal poetry this week, and not just in Sacramento. So check it all out.

David Iribarne
—Photo by Michelle Kunert, Sacramento