Grace Marie Grafton
EVOKE
—Grace Marie Grafton,
Oakland
The arabesque melody. I want. Song
of the frog, song of the
blue damselfly
to placate the welts
rising inconsolably
on my classical
score. It’s too wary,
too fretful. It wears a straight mouth, it wears
tight hose. More nakedness please, more slippage.
The raucous raven’s song,
boisterous,
irreverent. Oh blaring trumpet, tickling
timpani, but I don’t stop
there. Open
the back door, open
sequestered dawns,
midnight rain, the small
silver fish.
I sit on the limb, lean
against the trunk,
ask permission of the
doves to watch them
set on eggs and create
grey, create brown.
________________
JOSTLE
—Grace Marie Grafton
The world is never
still. Moving, shifting,
rising. Is it that the molecules life
is made of are lonely,
must constantly
nudge their neighboring
manifestation?
Contact, communication,
‘lectrical
charge. Or could it be, life is so in love
that molecules must kiss
and hug and mate?
Water specks into drops
into streams into
rivers. Matter gathering into palm fronds
or beetle’s green
lacquered wings beating
night air to bits that
bump the eyeball
of a watching puma who
wants to change
its prey into itself. Even in death
bodies transform. Not to exist is still.
_______________
EMERGENCE
—Grace Marie Grafton
My mom ironed my white
cotton slacks
and I failed to recognize
them as mine.
They were so beautiful I
didn’t want to wear them,
wanted to hang them up in
my room
and stroke their smooth
gleam every day,
admire them as testament
of her love for me.
Next is always cluttering
up the fervent package.
Begin at any edge, sunset,
the end of breakfast,
noon’s tilting, try to
make the square corner
plumb, how long does that
last?
Earth shifts, sometimes
wind mimics
the gods. Interesting that Jesus was
a carpenter. Yet he was called wise.
How much do we have to
give up?
______________
SOMNOLENT
—Grace Marie Grafton
Lost, the moon uselessly
begs the stars
for a guide. The constellations are a hall of
pictures, revolving around
moon
until he wishes he weren’t
a circle,
wishes he could stop in
one spot
and grow teeth to eat some
green beans
and blueberries and
carrots. Absorb color,
sprout hands legs hair,
live modestly
under a magnolia tree,
something
big and old to hide him from sky
with its constant drift
and demanding expanse.
The only thing he really
can count on
is his invisible tether to
Earth,
the one who winks at him
the lucky colors.
______________
Thanks, Grace, for today's poems! Grace Marie Grafton's newest book, Whimsey, Reticence and Laud/unruly sonnets, came out in Spring 2012 from Poetic Matrix Press (www.poeticmatrix.com). Her book of prose poems, Other Clues, 2010, was published by Latitude Press (rawartpress.com). A chapbook, Chrysanthemum Oratorio, 2010, is available from Dancing Girl Press (dancinggirlpress.com). Her poems, "Evoke", won first prize in the Soul-Making Keats Literary Competition (Pen Women, San Francisco); she has won prizes in the annual Bellingham Review contest, and was twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Poems recently appear in Glass, Prism Review, Ambush Review, and thetoucanonline.blogspot.com. She is also active in the California Poets in the Schools program. Grace lives in Oakland with her extended family.
Grace Marie Grafton and
Gail Rudd Entrekin will be reading from their poetry on September 7 at 7pm at
Laurel Book Store in Oakland. The reading will celebrate Poetic Matrix, the
poets' publisher. For more info: laurelbookstore.com
______________
Today's LittleNip:
AFTER RILKE
—B.Z. Niditch, Brookline, MA
Brother of flame
remembers
to mourn the future
sister of fire
putting a wreath
on an unknown field
called poetry.
______________
—Medusa
Gail Rudd Entrekin
