Sunday, October 31, 2010

Bonneville is Dead…1963

I heard you passed away today

red goddess – long sleek hydro-matic angel.

I heard you died of old age

after eighty four good years.

I remember you in Junior High School

your deep burgundy red body

and the dark power you concealed so well -

only a pedal push away.

I reach up into my memory

Trying to smell the smell of you again

Taste the speed and exhilaration of seventeen

The thrill of that new modern adventure

I slide into your wide front seat, turn the key,

And here the purr of America, 389 hungry horses.

J.E. Dorsey – 10.31.10

Copyright © Doug Claybourne 2010. All Rights Reserved.

Sonnett CCXXVII...

I observe the feint moon,

rise into an eastern blue sea,

lingering for long moments

low – then climbing the summer sky.

I think of you

warm and satisfied,

a petal wrapped within his arms -

silk & pearls strewn thoughtlessly,

your lean fingers entwined

in his like stems of the wild sage,

holding onto the evening wind,

bending in a will-o-the-wisp way.

I consider your naked feet, painted toes,

once trembling with my kisses.

J.E. Dorsey 06.26.99 - Rev. 10.31.10 - Week #26

Full Moon...

A full moon is swallowed

into the gray night sky,

riding down the mountain

past a naked ridge -

flying by - all black.

Thin arms reach out

to the dark high sea

of stars, as fishes, swimming

while life exquisite passes

in front of me.

J.E. Dorsey 05.30.99 – Rev. 10.31.10 - Week #22
"Dorsey's Violin House - 52 Weeks"

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Light...

I have never seen

a ball of light,

so solid -

at once amazing

twice gigantic -

I am staring right
into this orange,

face of fire,

sinking,

fast below the palms

and slipping into

a vast ocean.

Don’t go,

don’t leave me here I shout.

Then,

for seconds my muse disappears,

hidden by buses, cars,

trees and trucks -

the entire disc whose wide radius

I seek is gone.

A breeze blows -

just a sliver appears,

just a slice,

only a small piece remains,

a swath of delight against

the brilliant sky for seconds more -

then dissapears again

to absolutely nothing

but my longing and this memory.

J.E. Dorsey 05.20.99 – 10.30.10

Week #21 Poem - from the book "Dorsey's Violin House - 52 Weeks
"A poetic journey through the year 1999."

Haiku Poems New York...

A violin plays in my heart

my grandfather passes

before the notes run out

…

My daughter on the telephone

that voice

a new love note

…

My son loves trains

as I loved hot choo-choos

on Saturday with my grandfather - Boppaw.

…

New York vibrates with fall excitement,

breathes life into the artist,

excites the inner self.

I see them early

each and every morning without delay,

metal soldiers of the night -

they pick up our trash.

…

Few words are precious

except those

present in each moment.

…

Sunlight through

blooming flowers

hides winter through my window.

…

Listen – and watch

your August breath

it is quiet -

satisfied with itself.

Friends,

loves, wine and children -

life & perhaps sweet with time.

…

Quietly listening,

I see this day

with my eyes closed.

J.E. Dorsey –aka Doug Claybourne - Rev. 10.30.10

I remember...

You have a thing

about abandonment –

being left alone

and sometimes when I do –

leave you on your own

for a while –

the panic takes hold

and the blame sets in

and the fear

runs out of your body

turning over into words

sometimes, harsh phases.

I remember – shut up.

Then later the tears

as you comprehend

I am human – I am here

until the light falls off into black -

that glorious light of our memories

swallowed at the edge of an event horizon

and a black hole

of a new life turns

ever smaller – and ever larger,

into a final immense density

of energy –

pure love.

J.E. Dorsey – aka. Doug Claybourne – 07.21.10

Rev. 10.30.10

Fragility - the melting...

Snow covered tree

barren of leaves

a backyard in February

lay quiet – frozen -

shadowed with blue gray

afternoon light -

an empty bird feeder swings musically

in the breeze.

Through a glass door

a view of this moment

glistens – a snowflake in the brilliant light,

a picture of life’s fragility –

before your kisses or darkness.

Before an earthquake, or the phone rings,

or the answer yes arrives, or a plane lands -

before the smile I know – or the dark eyes look,

or the off hand broken silence of caring

takes the place of individual attention.

The moment before anything

you might imagine – wonderful

might – happen.

This is the melting of fragility into joy

accepting love as a gift -

and the beauty of the dissappearance of icicles.

J.E. Dorsey - for LDN - Valentine's Day 02.14.10 - Rev. 10.30.10