The Showbear Family Circus

Tag: poetry

  • In the River of Man • from 54 poems at 27
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    In the River of Man • from 54 poems at 27

    find me in the river of thought and event carried by the current of contemporary men see me stack their pebbles higher into my modern wall damming up their river into my waterfall genius ain’t meaningless its genus is in genes from us we can’t be me till me ain’t we original hearts make original…

  • If Ever • from 54 poems at 27
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    If Ever • from 54 poems at 27

    If you never wake I’ll die and master beside manner just to be the first keeper you see on the other side And if you lose the faith I’ll study eighty tender reasons to wait Cause I’ll never go Never leave you alone you can’t chase away this chaser won’t outpace this pacer I’ll never…

  • Lexi’s Song • from 54 Poems at 27
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    Lexi’s Song • from 54 Poems at 27

    All the ice melted leaving dark snowmen every forty feet And all their plastic bones are exposed. All the glass open every screen up But the radiator’s set to a hundred and four. How did we go from the frozen circle of Lucifer and plunge into another myth, oh a lake of fire? I remember…

  • Fall Into The • from 54 poems at 27

    Fall Into The • from 54 poems at 27

    There’s a gap in the platform between the train and the earth you can fall right through it mind the gap. There’s a gap in the sidewalk between the grate and the earth you can fall right through it mind the gap. There’s a gap in the windshield between the crash and the reaction you…

  • Vox Dei • from 54 poems at 27
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    Vox Dei • from 54 poems at 27

    Within my mind there hides a whitened stag whose face appears those times I find my voice. I saw him first within the books I write though handsome, he appeared robed like a hag. He offered my overgrown mind a choice: To keep on writing the story I’d found or follow him forward into the…

  • The Wreaker • from 54 poems at 27
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    The Wreaker • from 54 poems at 27

    every tree torn down through the wrath of a terrible twister every branch broke off at the paws of this barreling bear all these homes, how I know they’re reduced to embers all our homes – so many triangles cut out of squares take one Omnimax camera and stack it up on top of another walk…

  • Aftertastes • from 54 poems at 27

    Aftertastes • from 54 poems at 27

    I’ve wondered at the flavor, at the tastes of hidden things I have licked the air to savor scents unknown – from palate, wings. I’ve dipped my thumb in The Thick Of It and stuffed it in my cheek and held it there till it dissolved— tobacco, so to speak. I’ve bit into unbitables: like loss…

  • Greenwood Cemetery, Mid-winter’s Night 2015 • from 54 poems at 27

    Greenwood Cemetery, Mid-winter’s Night 2015 • from 54 poems at 27

    solid ice erected a sheen over thousands of shipmasts, hundreds of spires I looked again through black wrought iron spikes beyond their frozen ocean wave to the light some faced – others ignored – beyond the second wall of steel. orange warmth washed over mistless masts stark-set against blued half-things, vapors, half-trees, half-stones, half-beasts there roaming…

  • The Thing About Growing Old… • from 54 poems at 27

    The Thing About Growing Old… • from 54 poems at 27

    four gloves I’ve lost in New York City I missed their warm enclosures. One I received in tandem with thirteen three-piece suits my sister-in-law gave it — all she had to give — Though warmest, I lost it on the wettest December night walking to the train new guitar in tow in the New York…

  • Burdens [song] • from 54 poems at 27
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    Burdens [song] • from 54 poems at 27

    written originally during Lent for The Calendar Years C maj7             C7 We set down indulgence Fmaj7              Fm7 and pray for your restraint Em7                A7 We give up our taking Dm7                G7 and take away complaint Cmaj7 I need less violence C7 Need less slander Fmaj7              Fm7                 C need less of what I hate I hand you…

  • Assorted Thoughts • from 54 poems at 27

    Assorted Thoughts • from 54 poems at 27

    Nested bowls work if you stack carefully. If not, they lean. Contractors in 1173 were likely rushed through a soup luncheon in that Pisa basement. My friend has an acrylic sweater that changes color and shape every day, namely because every morning he chooses a different brush and palate to paint it on. I once encountered…

  • A Strong Right [song] • from 54 poems at 27
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    A Strong Right [song] • from 54 poems at 27

    lyrics by Robert Burns arrangement by Lancelot Schaubert Note: To be sung with each verse given to a different man and all in unison at the chorus. In the spirit of an Irish drinking song. C The man, in life wherever plac’d,              F              …