Poem: “Island Pond Has Frozen”, solstice poem, Jim Stallings

Recently published on Monhegans Common on their poetry site in celebration of the island at winter solstice. (www.monhegan.com)

ISLAND POND HAS FROZEN

Island pond has frozen
But not enough for skaters.
Weather says:
Three to five inches
Of white stuff,
Rain and sleet.

Hunker down, Hearth Huggers,
Bolster forth, Brave Hearts.

Yes, we are dreamers
of winter full,
Still shy the solstice
When time hangs still
Twixt shorter nights
And longer days to come–

And Lo! Our bonfires
Beckon the sun
From the dark ocean,
As our faces turn
East in faith.

Poem: “Grunts and Groans”, notebooks, Jim Stallings

Grunts and groans

Sighs and moans

Stiff-legged walk—

Cold water to face

Toothbrush in a race

Don’t forget to cough

And yank the hot & cold

Beyond the window wide

The birds gather with pride

All the answer have I none

Stick a fork in me I’m done

Maybe you’re good & fleet

But I am dead under foot

There goes the wifely shuffle

The days begin with usual hustle

Don’t say there’s no pain

Like Chinese torture

Out in the rain

One more drop to the brain.

Poem: “Please…”, notebooks, Jim Stallings

Note publication of my poem on Monhegan Commons for Dec. 9, 2009: click on poetry tab, poem entitled, “Island Pond Has Frozen”.

http://www.monhegan.com

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Please…

Don’t raise the shade

My eyes are asleep

In their caverns

Silent in darkness

With no images

But my mind

Awakening in fear

Of a full day

Of scorching lamps

High in the sky

Or over my left shoulder

Bringing to light

A reality much debated

Where no one agrees

And everyone cheats

To make it right again.

Poem: “Twas No Excuse”, notebooks, Jim Stallings

Twas no excuse

You weren’t the center

Nor the margin even now.

The rains came

And washed the snow,

Evidence of winter,

Into premature spring

And doubters quaked

Like Colorado aspens,

While time slipped

Gearless through fog,

And no mind left

An impression of life.

I winked at the conceit

Of ignoring as lesson—

Is that a cold front?

Don we now

Our parkas yet,

Again?

Poem: “Ice and Fog”, notebooks, Jim Stallings

Ice and fog

And thaw

Drip the landscape.

Mystery, it must be,

With detectives

Prowling in hip boots,

Their flashlights darting

Into crevices—

For what lost soul

Or now…body:

Decomposing into hideous grin,

A front tooth with diamond.

Clearly not a crime of property,

Observes a cocksure eye.

Note well, the indefinable fading:

Bloodless white tissue of frost.