Conqueror

I was a gulp of high air -
a bird breathing in,
a black dot on blue paper,
a privileged recipient
of finite sacrament
of souls of flying saints.
That all happened the moment
you taught me splendid roundness
as defined by the touch of your lips.

The other mysteries fell, one by one,
cities under siege,
watched by the terrible army of our love,
filling all the horizon, insatiable, made indomitable
by human frailty and sheer force.

The danger of sleep

I did a dream at night,
as I knew I should.
I was whole in it,
so whole that I crossed a barrier
and couldn’t wake up,
dreaming until I died.
Crossing into heaven,
which was where I had been
when I was dreaming
I dreamed that I was sleeping,
restlessly in the night.
In discomfort I crossed a barrier.
When I awoke
I looked round,
sat up and cried.

SCARY THIRTEEN RINGING OF THE BARDS

Superstition

Turn to the horror of himself, look at deep within
He knows there is a growing burden, He is guilty
If he hadn’t done what he shouldn’t do, no problem,
But he had to; no one takes care of you but yourself.
Steal that candy, break that toy, nobody will see it.
Don’t worry if they catch you, you can lie (as always).
God smiles at him from heaven, he is completely free,
Take that money, he knows he wants what they won’t give him;
Life passes into the hands of the greedy and quick.

The burden builds like a dangerous house with a short,
He can never relax because it’s all coming down.
He looks to the sky and thinks with a frown, no one home.
What there he sees is a reflection of him – snake eyes.

And so are you

I am that silhouette rain makes
as it falls on me. I cut this invisible swath,
sidling between Betty and death,
squeezing between beauty and the flower,
walking bower heavy under a barrage
of bougainvillea, just a notch below
the breeze and an hour beyond ice melting.

I cut the day with a line
that leads to dark. I am the nothing
in between everything.

What a class! this is the first shot I took. 

This group studies intensive English. They are really great! 

THE RINGING OF THE BARDS XII

Want this badge?

The Carnival Comes

The trucks have rumbled down the road.
At night they rested in the new spot.
Sodden thirsts have woken up early
to assemble machines before the dawn.
Speakers have been set up for there will be music.
Soon there will be food and noise and light –
bells and calliopes, hot dogs in paper
and lights strung in a row,
mirrors, mirrors, lots of mirrors
(for we must see ourselves as happy, amused).

Looking in the glass we see that
there are two of everything except us,
how disconcerting.
But there is little time for rumination
for we must buy this illusion,
we must purchase it from pipes and painted steel.
Smells rival one another, last nights rain, the fragrance of moist earth,
pop corn, pickle relish, mustard,
oil and iron, hot incandescent lights.
And always we pass the mirror to peek inside, and wonder,
watch them turning at the heart of the carrousel.

The music stops, people exit and the ride fills again.
Another tune starts, the carrousel spins,
the mirror scans for strange new views
in this place of Cartesian Duality.
It circles and circles –
we ride the painted ponies to where we started
(somehow we always end up there).
Children giggle, mothers smile, lovers embrace, wind caresses,
lights sparkle, in the mirror you see the world spinning behind you.
Eagerly we get in line again.

So much noise – the crack of rifles ringing bells,
music, loudspeaker voices with their Doppler second selves,
whirring motors, the wail of wind singing
its last song in airplane wings,
the calliope (associated with poetry, for we dream tonight)
and, behind it all, the mirror turns
showing a world that we know is silent –
cacophony and crystal.
Turning, turning, everything spins,
we are dervishes in the moonlight,
separated by having spun together,
each with our own ears and lips and heartbeats.

I search for yours – lips moist and warm –
I learn rhythm, friction and not to fear entropy.
But somehow I have lost you.
I see us in the mirror, wandering away.
I look back, we have turned away from the light.
We are another couple I recognize,
who have sated themselves on cotton candy and illusion;
we are fat and starving.

The lights go out – one last look in the mirror
on a world now of shadow. In the profound silence
a cricket sings to solve a lonely puzzle.


Thanks to all the wonderful poets who graciously contributed their works to this RotB XII, you are friends and fellow strugglers against the loneliness of words. Please enjoy all the fantastic writing they have done. It should be a great, leisurely oddessey to touch their minds and souls. It has certainly been my honor and pleasure to have been touched by them!

The students of the Intro to Films class I teach 

More Academic English Comp students at the board. 

Students at the board in Academic English. 

Some of my Intensive English students, aren't they great? 

Some beautiful flowers! 

My off-campus KIMEP students! 

These are some students from an intensive English course I teach! 

Hi csperez! These are master students. I'm teaching them to write essays. Look on the whiteboard behind us. In faint blue (my marker was dying) it says Hi Craig! 

POETRY CARNIVAL

THE RINGING OF THE BARDS XI IS AT Poetry Springs Boing, Curl, Sproing CURRENTLY. I WILL BE HOSTING R.O.T.B. XII SOON. PLEASE SEND A LINK TO YOUR SUBMISSION TO ME AT chefrr (at) yahoo (dot) com (Take the spaces out and insert the symbols represented in Parentheses; put ROTB SUBMISSION in the subject line) BY 10 P.M. FRIDAY EVENING PST. I am looking forward to your submissions!