Awakened By Weeping Icicles

Awakened by weeping icicles
Lori felt the unevenness
of her holy body.

She read cover to cover
the Bible, Torah and Quran
in search of her name

but found it untouched
by their many verses
and living parables.

She chose not to see
this absence
as a barricade.

Unblocked by script and tradition
she examined
her every longing.

Especially rhythms
edible or audible
or snowy when the pipes froze.

Kiss me.
She thought of god
bending down from heaven

to place lips
to her forehead
to sooth unnamed sadness.

Kiss me.
She thought of the man
down the street

with good manners
who harvested winds for melodies
pushed through his clarinet.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney

She Lies Absent

Paul triangulates
the girl of his dreams
to be in the shadow
of a witness sycamore
on the opposite side
of a creek run red.

She wears a dress
the color of turned sycamore leaves
and holds purple prairie aster
that competes
with the last of the dandelions
for the bees’ attention.

He must cross a bridge
made of aged white stone
against a rush of ghosts
groaning and wailing
amid the thunderous canon
and volleys hurled against them.

Upon seeing the color bearer drop
and old glory fall
the woman raises her arm to her brow,
in the manner of Victorian women,
slumps to the ground,
and disappears beneath the leaves.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

Space For Failure

Paul uncovers himself
for the purpose of reproduction.

This is a self portrait
not yet themed in red or blue.

Look at the pinched aspect of his face.
How clean his fingernails are!

See the flush of his skin.
(His hormones shut down his logic center.)

This is a teaching moment.
This is a learning moment.

The lesson is whether either partner will speak up
and state what they really want tonight.

To trust words and discussion
over subtle body cues.

To grasp if intimate talk about desires
deepens or destroys the mood.

Paul fears that routine
becomes a comfortable set of chains.

He wishes experimentation without the expectation
of getting it all right on the first try.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney