Crossroads of America
Crossroads of this brave New World:
tiring - perhaps no longer young
Big city, rural city? central point -
refreshing - this nation's innovative belly
city of indigenous America, cosmopolitan
reflective - luminescent in waning light
hopeful in the new day dawning bright
still movement, raucous plains of crop
Gridded out on one mile square
soldiers and sailors commemorate
midpoint triumph at Monument Circle
no governor on this spot will reside
interstates intersect downtown - out of town;
glass-domed rotunda docile suspensions
champions cheer in the hall of White River
fast paced spin abouts at the Motor Speedway
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poem by Frederick Kesner
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Wash
Spun out of control.
Bobbing then pommeled, squashed then bloated.
A lone occupant within the confines of a tumble dryer
at full spin....
An impatient hand lifts the lid off
with deft, well practised fingers
hopeful that in so doing would speed up the process.
The spinning abruptly stops
resuming only when the lid is firmly shut
securely in place.
With a banging and a rattling
the tumbling ensues... digits lifting
assured the interruption overrided.
The mind opens to the fact that
there is one entry and one exit
on this front loader churning
Its machinations moistens the
dank air and frigid tiles with
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poem by Frederick Kesner
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Perchancement
`
You have been much more
to many a progressively
ailing heart,
in the eloquence
of whispered words -
watch them alight on
the pages of a poem.
What in the waving
of waxing thought;
words copiously flow
in the effervescent
glow of lilting rhyme -
solitary images
march the desert storm.
Amnesty provides no relief:
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poem by Frederick Kesner
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Aleksander Blok
`
Arise, and walk along these streets,
breathe and partake of the dregs
of the mighty industrial age;
paint the colours of its appeal -
toxic fumes that light the path
to days only just imagined.
Parted lips bare wisdom,
shatter the silence that shackles;
within parched throat, sealed
sounds peal from the belfry -
tender whispers caress
each unknown orphaned heart.
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poem by Frederick Kesner
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Midnight Rendezvous
`
Join me in this boat of drunkenness,
Come with me and we shall both be drunk.
Let's sway beside what we think ourselves,
Swerving as the waves swell beneath us;
Lifting us to where lonely sounds warp,
While many other things become clear.
Come upon my mind, your tongue in mine,
And utter words that rend this turmoil;
The sound of madness not to be stilled,
Our silent voices, raging waters.
The world will list to one side of us
And back to the other in one beat.
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poem by Frederick Kesner
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Bridge, The
I once
as a young boy
stood on a little
wooden country bridge;
tip-toed to look at
the languid moving water
Tomorrow popped up -
the wind that had blown in
tore off a leaf from
a tall standing tree
roots entrenched
by the water's edge
and this leaf
wafted and fluttered
and glided into the
current below
taken bodily
where gravity pulls
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poem by Frederick Kesner
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Third
no, it was not very difficult to allow many
other things & thoughts to fill this gaping void
where we once together spent our quiet moments
but these distractions have not my pining assuaged
the withdrawal of not having you here by me
is a feeling gnarling at the pit of my gut
yet I have resolved not to be cast down
keeping constantly before my eyes your promise
dreaming beyond paper planes & stubbed-out crayons
time & space are not sufficient to contain
that part of me that with you experiences & lives
so here i lightly tred amid the peat & the moss
blending what is imagined & what is in fact real
walking toward the lilting songs of languid streams
where hope whittles away this overwhelming subterfuge
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poem by Frederick Kesner
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Love Unspoken
yesterday
a tear caught
the sun [whole]
[and] rolled down
your cheek [tumbling]
as we drove
[at speed] along
the M31
transfixed in that
moment [etched]
now in my mind
[immortalised]
in my heart
sealed [memory]
that tenderest of
trysts [our secret]
as you bared your
deepest groanings
[longing]
mourning
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poem by Frederick Kesner
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Elegy for Jonathan, the Prince
stately tall you meekly stand
on your finger the signet band
for my sake you shunned your crown
for my breath your devotion fierce
you gave for me your sword and squire
your hospitality did never tire
proud brothers in battle or play
companions going about each day
in your shadow I had no care
my home's cupboards were never bare
song and merriment never missed
hunger a stranger to my lips
your place at court set second to mine
your heart pure - best fruit of vine
your eyes reflect esteem so dear
no man's affection held so near
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poem by Frederick Kesner
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Ode to King Saul's Son
'
stately tall you meekly stand
on your finger the signet band
for my sake you shunned your crown
for my breath your devotion fierce
you gave for me your sword and squire
your hospitality did never tire
proud brothers in battle or play
companionly we went about each day
in your shadow I had no care
my home's cupboards were never bare
song and merriment never missed
hunger a stranger to my lips
your place at court set second to mine
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poem by Frederick Kesner
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