Sunday, March 18, 2012

Three poems by Charlene Jones


Someday whether it be when the sun's fingers hook the horizon 
or night planets reflect their gaze upon your eyes 

you too will walk away. 

Finally uttering your last breath like a poem's end or a moan 
you too will send a long shiver of delight 
up the skeleton's back, joining 
crystal bone to clean air. 

In this moment, as the silver fish of memory 
scatter in the sudden move, as longed for tomorrows
tremble out of their tree, winging away 

you will lie or stand at last 
in that precious interval between then and later 

in that pause 
you will lie or stand 

at last. 


apocatastasis: 1/ the state of being restored or re-established; restitution
                        2/ the doctrine that Satan and all sinners will ultimately be restored to God.

To see the bird each day
             feed it peanuts

will chirp in greeting
as your hand reaches

or gently, repetitively,
rocks the limb with voice
inclining you toward throwing
and food.

Slippered feet across carpet.
then sudden sight--
the rare bird on dead limb,
the brilliant red, scarlet head
and white, white body
blocked by blue/black wings--

this thing dangles
for seconds then gone

leaving in its wake
the space of its being, having been

so now, the eyes look.

To an Earlier Mentor

I have left you because my darling
your thorny suit so suitable
to my earlier age

requires of me an armor
that interferes with l’amor

you say it that way

and in the space since then
I have taken off the suit
so suitable to an earlier age

and lain among the grasses
their green billowing
enough in my haired ears

enough I have lain
and in among the blades
of those who carry the armor

I have seen the heart

so now we must put it down,
let go

just as you taught me
from the suit of armor
so suitable so long ago.

Charlene Jones has been a practicing psychotherapist and meditation teacher for thirteen years. In addition, Charlene writes for the Musselman’s Lake Residents Association website (here), is the Musselman Lake Correspondent for the Stouffville Free Press, and is at work on her first novel. She has two books of poetry to her credit, as well as several individual poems published in many North American magazines.

See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto, Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines, Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket, Barrie, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.

1 comment:

  1. Your poetry just gets more powerful. How did you get inside my head?