Why I Am Lonely Sometimes
I say hey listen to this new poem I wrote
and she says okay so I read it
then I tell her it's a sonnet and I
probably go too far because I actually
say the words quatrain and iambic feet
Later I walk into the bedroom
where she's watching TV
and she says what
are you gonna tell me
how water turns to ice?
poem by Don McWilliams
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Seduction, Imagination, and the Driving of Stakes
Having seen gold in the churches of Spain,
the conquistadors,
inconsolable for want of it,
pursued a gleam visible
across miles of cruel desert,
driving stakes into the earth
that they might make their way home.
Alas, they found only pyrite.
I see a pretty blonde
across a crowded room
or in a lunchtime rush
on the street
and, against reason,
allow my imagination to conjure you,
or more specifically you
as a part of us.
Alas, the asphalt and concrete
of my city
do not lend themselves
[...] Read more
poem by Don McWilliams
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
On the Futility of Wishing
As I grow older I don't always sleep so well.
I often wake to what I am sure
is someone shaking my shoulder,
'Wake up Daddy, look what I made for you, '
and there she is, fair skin and auburn hair. Otherwise, she is you in miniature.
She holds a crayon drawing
and even in the faint light of the moon filtered through the bedroom curtains, I can see where she has written 'to Daddy', and at the bottom, 'Love Fiona, ' sometimes Fi, usually Feeney. The drawings are ponies or puppies, often with wings,
and it makes my heart dance that her puppies smile. I smile. I reach for the drawings
And she runs to the living room. 'Watch me, Daddy, ' she will say as she
turns a cartwheel or does a handstand, then it is 'Catch me, Daddy, ' and off she runs through the kitchen and down the back hall. I am so close
but I never catch up, and I always lose sight of her, hearing her laughter receding in the distance as I wish just once that I could hold her until
she fell asleep in my arms, take her picture in her prom dress, watch her graduate from college, walk her down the aisle and give her hand to the man
she will love forever.
I listen until the laughter is gone, then sit on the couch until morning
sure that if I wish hard enough I can conjure an alternate reality.
It never works. The world is indifferent to our desperate wishes,
so that I am left to hold on to brief and magical moments,
[...] Read more
poem by Don McWilliams
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!