Starstuff III

Will my admiration of E. E. Barnard's incredible eyesight, the Many Worlds insight of Dr. Everett,
Robinson Jeffers explaining our life,
Trace a mark?
Doubtful.
There shall be others to grip the truth.
I can't wait.

poem by Stan Petrovich
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Lavender Walls

days days trudging alone
rock sand sand rock
sand
and i found blue canyon
at last
but burrowing in its narrow walls
i was missing you
noticed that the walls were really lavender
not blue
like our crying eyes
always were

poem by Stan Petrovich
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Monster in the Bath

Well, it happens once every year:
There is a monster lurking somewhere near;
This time it has been locked in the bath,
Scratching & screaming to get out;
But I have a family to feed:
Who must not fall destiny to that need.

poem by Stan Petrovich
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Virtual Unreality

While we entwine
Making love
We also miss by a thousand miles.
If my kiss is not
One fat lie,
Then is it real?
May I steal
Reality
In the twinkling of an eye?
In the orbit of
A cold hard satellite
Beaming your lips
To mine.

poem by Stan Petrovich
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Moon Menagerie

If you take a dead stuffed dog
And aim it at the moon in a false howl,
And set the scene in stone,
Then ship it to England:
Lord Y says to Lord X.
'Nothing, mate, ever changes.'

A crack opens in the glass:
Everything changes.

poem by Stan Petrovich
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Starstuff II

Will all of me go?
Will the 'collective consciousness'
Gather at a shiny place,
Somewhere in space,
And give newborns a hint of my grief or intelligence?
So when they too wander wood and shoreline,
Or ponder the stars, (cont.)

poem by Stan Petrovich
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On An Island Beach, New England

Swards of pockmarked ocean floor, heaved up,
Bifurcated beach with the 'bathtub rock, '
The sands preferred by feathered crits.
After a day's muddy walk we arrived,
Gasping at the suddenness of the expanse,
Of the blue and tidal shore.

poem by Stan Petrovich
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20th Century Doings, Part 2

...He explicated a hatred for his fellow man:
That he would wreak a vengeance so great against all
Who who had slighted him,
He would attain great fame and notoriety.

Only one of us walked, or actually stumbled out of those woods that day.

poem by Stan Petrovich
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I Give You This

There as searing beauty in the air
You breath. The is viscous tartar
In the teeth I leave.
No one can be wiser than the
Man who has worn it all,
Close to his chest.
I have worn nothing but diffident
Bequests.
So, you are better than all the rest.

poem by Stan Petrovich
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Painted Desert Allegory

I gaze far off
-Wearing a jump suit-
To the Home of the Kachina
Atop the great extinct volcanos
The flats now streaked
With blue-blood
And blood-red
Sands. Heaven,
White, is the 'eternal snow' up top,
But in August it is a byproduct of mere chance.

poem by Stan Petrovich
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