Shuma
When I was little
We moved next to a forested
Gulch (a 'shuma' in Serbian) ,
Where a neighbor boy led me down the place
To get acquainted with the trees.
He pointed out poison ivy and oak,
He showed me the beavers' dam,
But I best recall Daddy Long Legs,
The spider I thought looked
Like those killing machines in 'War of the Worlds.'
Daddy had far too many legs, however,
And, according to the boy, posed no threat.
In winter, sledding down there
Was a gas, was my purest thought ever.
My parents were still alive
And posited no threat.
That once-upon-a-time
I held no regrets.
[...] Read more
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Bearing Arms
Note that those who
Constitutinally (USA) bear arms,
Are those who fantasize using them,
Often with perverted and murderous reason.
I will give hunters, the police and the
Real miltary, the arms they actually need,
No more than that.
If you wish to kill helpless animals
By inner command or outer command
Then so be it.
But the head of your stuffed prey
Will gather crimson dust
On your dire walls,
As you sit swilling etanol
And expand on terrible tales,
One and all.
The military is chiefly the sword
of religiosity, make no mistake.
[...] Read more
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Inconsistencies
I loathe inconsistenties-
In food, in plans that change on a sudden,
Of people who morph their minds regarding itineraries.
I must be grounded in foregone conclusions
Or anxiety is disquieting: OCD.
I think like a game of Chinese Checkers,
Round and round moving solidly,
A direction premeasured.
So when you give me instructions,
And then they change,
My hair needs pulling.
Thus life is torture, throwing
Curveballs at which I swing and miss.
Another good reason to repudiate rhyme,
The disease of rhyme.
I must write this stuff freely,
Even disregarding iambic pentameter,
Which is inconsistent.
But I emulate Will Shakespeare,
[...] Read more
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
What I Believe
Having dismissed Pink Unicorns
And the invisible beareded man in the sky -
Watching our every move -
Looking thriugh our very eyes -
I can see the fearful storms at sea
And positively thrill;
I can watch the elephant charging,
And sit perfectly still.
There is untold beauty in natural
Rock formations, strewn & sculpted
By wind & rain,
The adoration of rain & wind.
If the earth's inner core plows up
And kills a hundred thousand;
If hurricanes devastate a defiant coastal city,
There is not one iota of design at work.
But fall for the woman of my life,
Who is as perfect as natural selection can account for -
[...] Read more
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A Hurricane Species
A grovelling species
-Origin, Africa-
Swinging long arms
And digging for worms,
Develops,
Filtering off the west coast
As batches of thunderstorms
That grunt pre-words
And fight; then wander
Over the open emptiness.
The heat amasses
And splinters them into groups,
Going separate ways,
Each bearing a different hue.
Then, to the amazement
Of observers, sprawling,
Enlarges to a subcontinental size,
And barges forward,
[...] Read more
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Acrophobic Mountaineer
I have kooked into Baha'i: Truth in Process; Buddhism: All is Mind; Christianity: But I Say Unto You; Christian Science: Spirit and Matter; Confucianism: A Culture of Order; Daoism: The Way And Its Power; Hinduism: Thou Art That; Iconography: The Shape And Colour of Faith; Islam: And Muhammad Is His Prophet.
They take themselves too seriously. The heaven's are indifferent.
The cold stillness of the stars grabs my attention and moves me more.
A galaxy of stars, a great speeds, is but a smuge wiping the end of the telescope.
It eats and defecates stars like language.
There is an icy unmovement to the heavens.
I look down at them from a cliff;
At existence and am dram to fear it.
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Phantom Tiger
There, quietly stalking into night
Silent as a shooting star,
Her name spelling panic and phobic
Fright, her stripes as good as fingerprints,
The back of her ears showing white eyes,
Her enemy to hypnotize.
Tiger was hunted to near extinction
Under the hands of the Brits;
Towering on the elephant phalanx,
Guns frightening many a beast;
Those men took aim and put down the bloody, mighty corpses of the magic animal.
Now tiger is beneath
No elephant and rifle,
But a new wave of compassion and cheer,
Compensated with protected territory.
But if the same old story holds sway
Men will blossom first,
And if they bludgeon again the tiger
[...] Read more
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Criminal Justice
My brother and I were falsely
Convicted for the rape and slaughter
Of a 13-year-old girl; but we weren't
There: we were shooting pool.
Because the police knew we held
No patriotic glee, they assumed too much,
And us they prosecuted.
Years of justice blind, dead-brained
Words striving to become lofty and eternal,
And eyewitnesses without wit,
Put us in the penitentiary.
Then, after twenty-two years,
The DNA surfacing like a submarine,
Cleared our names. They let us go
With a heartfelt apology.
But one learns a thing or two in prison:
Now, on foggy mornings, during school days,
Look yonder into the haze-
[...] Read more
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Married To The Wind
I was married to the wind
Until she flew off with colorful clouds
To the East. She went in amber
And fingered your hair at sunset
Like the rays through invisible high dust
Hanging in the air. At night over the sea
She swallowed purple mist
And flowed into the ships' quarters.
And dawn's breaching streaks allowed
The dilemma of indigo to drive her on.
I remain a crag-man, high aloft,
Carving these words in stone, slowly,
Captivated by time yet consumed by sorrow.
The language to which I strive
Is not dead, but one of true peace,
Beyond greed, beyond trust in otherworldly
Beings. My trust lies in my rustless tools
That create signs
No wind can warp.
[...] Read more
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Fright of Birds - Independence Day
Because I love my country for its deep breadth,
First for the freedom of religion
(Or irreligion) and, in my case, the freedom of expression
And speech, I am harmed by those who in the majority
Take advantage,
Doing more harm than good.
The fireworks come at dusk,
For winged creatures, unexpectedly,
For a captive populace, ceremoniously;
Then come the tunes of glory,
Praising Land that is really only drawn borders,
As if somehow inevitable,
In both stature and in worship,
Primal falsehoods enduring.
The climax comes around ten-
Thousands of birds in terror,
Moving from trees to other trees,
Trembling on the watch of the parade of our feet,
[...] Read more
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!