Black SwanObsidian as midnight,procrastination liftsits feathered headand stares me down.Cowering, I bow my head.Stories, poems, novelsnever birthed in light,glide as ghost-witnesses.My own twin swanscompete for dominancemy luminous selfover-shadowed by ebony.Hollow emptiness rules.Segmented time siftsthrough my fingers.My divided-self defers.Faust’s two souls jostled.Bismarck’s crowd quarreled.Victor Hugo wrote naked,clothes hidden by his valet.Lifting radiant plumage,my shy white swan,heeding extended will,subdues my sable beast.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Gary Christian, originally from Raymond, Alberta, Canada, is a retired attorney who practiced law forty years in Salt Lake City but now spends most of his time knee-deep in poetry. He along with LaVerna Johnson and others developed the Redrock Writers Seminar back in 1997 at Tuachan as well as the Chaparral Poetry Contest and Poetry in the Park now in its 7th year at Zion Park. Presently he serves as secretary of Dixie Poets, a Chapter of Utah State Poetry Society in St. George, and writes to his heart’s content.
Train to Sunrise
Evening spreads its stillnesson the prairie. Shadows roostupon the ledges of the nightwhen it is ten o’clock.The moon hangs heavy in the sky,light spurts along the railroad tracksin silver streaksto guide the evening train.Its wail laments a lonely passagethrough the hours.Its flaring beam burns holesinto the darkness.It calls me fromthe soft embrace of slumberbut will not wait and goes aloneinto the empty gloom.
D. Gary Christian
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Love Interest by Joyce Kohler
I will be Ginger if you will be Fred,
Or you Valentino and me some red head.
Let's pretend I am the Queen of the Nile
and you are Marc Anthony just for a while.
With you playing Bogie and me as Bacall,
I'd teach you to whistle. You'd give me a call.
Cast me as Hepburn and cast you as Tracy.
We could have fun, but nothing too racy.
I will play Hedy if you will play Bing.
Hope you don't mind if I ask you to sing.
But in reality, I would just settle
with you down on the farm—Ma and Pa Kettle.