https://www.albany.edu/offcourse
http://offcourse.org
ISSN 1556-4975 

Four Poems, by J.R. Solonche.

NEW JOURNEY

It cannot be a quest
because he would refuse
the hero's portion

It cannot be a circle
because he would refuse
the returning

It cannot be a river
because he would refuse
the drifting down

It cannot be an ocean
because he would refuse
the counting of degrees

It cannot be a mountain
because he would refuse
the leaving of the valley

It cannot be a crossing
because he would refuse
the learning of the languages

It cannot be a search
because he would refuse
the opening of the eyes

---

 

ACROBAT

So supple, so pliable,
she seems to have no skeleton,
or one made of rubber.

Human origami,
folded into a stork,
balancing on one leg.

Unfolded, refolded
into a sequined
quadruped, head

in the center
of a square of feet.
Arched over, arched

under, bent and re-bent,
stretched to the breaking point but
never breaking.

This is
how the rest of us
contort our souls.

 

---

 

AN OLD JOKE

I look for it all day in vain.
It comes to me at last by itself.

This is a couplet by a Chinese poet
on the difficulty of finding good lines.

When someone joked, This is a description
of a lost cat, everyone had a good laugh.

 

---

 

AT THE ROAD'S EDGE

At the road's edge,
after last night's rainstorm,
a broken eggshell.

And above the highest branches
of the pines and ash trees,
a clear blue, deep blue, clean blue
sky, cloudless, as full

of clear, clean blue as a bottle of ink,
still new and unopened.
The broken eggshell

is the white of cheap white
typing paper,
the white of the starched white
shirts I wore as a boy to school.

 

---

 

Comments? Tell us!

Back to Offcourse home page