Physical Poetry
The physics of poetry
is best explained in a mind experiment
in the construction of this very poem.
As I write the question becomes
what is the word-next and its origins?
Now what word-next can be
is a question of probabilities;
since if I choose rhyme as my scheme
and since the words which will rhyme are finite
and not infinite
the only question then becomes
which one of these will I choose.
Now if I choose a word-next outside
rhyming
then I risk not making poetic sense
since writing a gibberish word,
or one not related to the whole,
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Earth Speaks
I am the Earth, your mother
and you are my children.
I am from
the cosmic dust
of a thousand, billion, trillion stars;
conceived in tumult,
I’ve endured millions asteroid hits
and cataclysmic comet shots.
Hot lava flowed over my face
volcanic steam;
my body seethed
for millions of years;
titanic explosions
my insides
blew up;
where time and time again,
asteroids destroyed all my life.
but I started again;
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Face Down On The Bureau
'This holiday season' she said, I will not cry into the pity towel
or prostrate myself on the ground floor of self-loathing and self-denial
I will not sink into hate-mongering and dagger-eyed revenge dreams
for these taint the soul and foul the spirit.
I’ll resist the demi-urge of vengeful retaliations
secretly committed slights and verbal cuts
aimed at you across the tabletops
of friends gravely nodding
offering sympathy.
I will roll up my heart-break carpet and put it away in my doily-topped bureau where your photo is turned face down beside my stack of lavender sachets and the box of turtles I had meant to give you before I found out
about her.
Bruised true but also elevated, yes elevated
not from the harm done but from my own new vision
as the kind of person who can summon
the souls spirit and see in my mirror a better person come
emerging from the shadows;
not smiling that would be an untruth,
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Sly Regrets
I lie on the bed
still tingling
from that love which penetrates
trying to decide if it is satisfaction
I feel
or slow-crawling humiliation.
Has this been my sacrifice,
my condemnation?
Each time it flows this way.
I hear you in the next room
and I am still thinking
as you return.
I take my smile and put it on.
Three dates and we seconds ago lay
in state;
was this the end or a beginning?
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Not Changelings
They all came in their thousand millions
Saber Tooths, Neanderthal's, Do-Do Birds
Homo-Hablis and Dinosours;
gathering for Species Review
in the wide meadow forest.
The homing pigeon said
'Me and mine when we took to the sky
were millions
eclipsing the mid-day sun.
The Buffalo King said 'we once carpeted
the grasslands and once on the move
we made the Earth Thunder.'
There were fishes of the sea
amphibians, Sharks and crustaceans,
blow-fish, Australopithecus, great civilizations:
Atlantians, Mayans, Ancient Egyptians
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Proximity Two
It was proximity alone;
the nearness;
the contact
on a too-close basis
that harmed her
she explained.
'Some people' she said
'by virtue of who they are,
by virtue of their being-ness
without malice on their part
can be bad for you,
sever your innocent heart.
It might be they are prettier,
smarter, calmer, or they remind you of
someone or some thing which plants gnawing fear in your soul.
These are Irresistible Flame;
you are the Irrepressible Moth
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Over-Heard Conversations at the Party
'I'm not really fat' he said
'I am anorexic,
just not very good at it.'
'I can't keep a girl friend
I am too, uh, big down there
they say it hurts.'
'You expect me to believe this line? '
'I didn't say I loved you
I said I often think of you.
That's what I said.'
'I have to give up drugs
I am hallucinating
the girl of my dreams.'
So I told her it was ok
she could sleep with him
but she would have to pay
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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For Keeps
The synonyms below for what is Love
only illustrate how complex the thing is.
Is Love affection, sex, brotherly, motherly
or infatuation?
Is it strong attraction,
Mysterious Intensity
which cannot be defined?
And what of Love of God
which of these below
fits best that loving style?
Forced to look at this
in detail
I had not noticed before,
I now need to decide
which is best in my regard-
the passionate soul-mated-ness Love,
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Katie
She is the Chalk Outline at the Murder Scene,
the shadow which precedes you and me.
She's the sea's retreat before the Tsunami,
the Silence before the Crash,
the Still before Mayhem,
the earthquake weather
before the shaking begins;
the Eye of the Hurricane.
She lives in moments
where Time is Hushed;
at the brink;
the interstices;
the river's rush,
the blue part of the flame;
the Single Hand
holding the Universe back.
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Homeless Heart
'I could tell you had a homeless heart, from the start, ' she said 'had been beat down in your life and left somewhere for double dead- road-side in some ravine outside Grimy Town...
I sense these things.' she said.
He said:
'Not far wrong. Now as to you I feel you been dragged through the mud, yourself experiencin' head-scratching hurts and harms, and your skiff is leeward and now adrift.' he said moving a bit closer to her, smelling of diesel, a smell she liked.
'You not far wrong, ' she said.
'And I can see your trust level dip-stick is very low. for men like me.' He said
'Very low.' she said.
'So what can man like me then offer a woman like you? And vici versa.' he said. 'Seems natural for us to powwow and cozy up, nothing carnal you understand, but understanding can come of it.'
'I don't know' she said, 'hurt and hurt added together seems to me just adds up to more pain.'
“Could be, ” he said “You could be right. But then I was always taught to believe in miracles, you? ”
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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