Last thoughts for 2009
Ice Fishing
Before the fishing someone ought
to give the little fish a thought.
He is our ancestor, without
him we would all be pencilled out.
And sometimes we are fish, in fact
I've caught some judges in the act.
LRH
12.31.09
poem by Linda Hepner
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What Mad Pursuit...
The face forever screaming, running forward
The mouth forever open always screaming,
The cardinal encased in his glass cupboard,
Forever trapped, forever haunts our dreaming.
LRH 5.20.06
Title from Ode on a Grecian Urn, John Keats
Paintings by Edvard Munch, Francis Bacon.
poem by Linda Hepner
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I Wanna Go Home
I want to go home
I want to be home
But I am home
They say.
I don’t want to roam,
I want to come home,
I’m here at home
Astray.
I want to find me
I want to be me,
Not feeling free
Away
I’m little girl lost
I’m bigger girl lost
I’m self-double-crossed,
Dismay.
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poem by Linda Hepner
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Happy New Year 5766
Happy New Year tsunami
Happy New Year hurricanes
Happy New Year earthquakes
Happy New Year floods
Happy New Year fires
Happy New Year whining tree-saws
Happy New Year broken oven
Happy New Year broken refridgerator
Happy New Year broken promises
Happy New Year working computer
Happy New Year screeching ears
Happy New Year wet windows parched garden
Happy New Year dripping tap
drip
drip
drip
Drip.
poem by Linda Hepner
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Camels and Chameleons
You can’t miss a camel,
It’s big and it smells,
It harrumphs and slobbers
And slurps at the wells;
Chameleon, tiny,
Stands still on a twig
And changes its colors
Like changing a wig.
The problem I have though
Is how to pronounce
It’s name, while it’s fading
Yet ready to pounce.
One only eats veggies
And looks like a frump;
The other eats insects
But both have a hump!
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poem by Linda Hepner
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Long Hot Summer
Room to room.
Hot air.
Stifle.
Escape.
Don't roam, go home.
Back to car.
Car battery.
Car won’t start.
Loose screw, loose connection.
Seat too laid back.
Strange scent.
Who’s been sleeping in my car
said Mother Bear.
Man came, turned key, engine started
miraculously.
Man said: Lay,
Lay, lady, lay a new battery, lady.
Sat down, hand on shift.
Drove down home and
air cooler was
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poem by Linda Hepner
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Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Grey is the color of cloudy skies
and they can turn black, angry,
white the color round my eyes
and red after a sangri,
but though some rinse like heaven to blue
and purple on occasions,
I'm earthbound, brown, rich soil, a hue
most lustful in persuasions.
Yet grey, red, black, brown, purple, blue
all crown a head with features
like cheeks that blanche when love's not true
or blush at lustful creatures
who like a snake with tasty fruit
ensnare the dormouse lingering
within it's cosy cave tree root
aroused by brilliant fingering!
8.18.08
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poem by Linda Hepner
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Tomas, Mystery Man
He had an albatross,
Being a Coleridge fan,
He'd information toss,
This former Black and Tan;
He fled to Double Dutch
Bewildering his readers
And built a rabbit hutch
To hide his feathered feeders
That smuggled from the South,
The misty hemisphere,
Put Joyce words in his mouth
And marinated fear.
It's possible the club
Where golf made him the Tyger
Was what destroyed the bird
So violently the geiger
Could not count all the ways
It's possible to kill
An innocent; his days
Remorse - - a bitter pill.
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poem by Linda Hepner
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Courthouse
She never wept
she never weeps
and then she did
the cataract
she couldn’t stop
she wouldn’t stop
she’d let it gush
and never stop
its radiant fall
its violent smash
against the rocks
her heart that split
and out of it
a high pitched scream
a bass force howl
she couldn’t stop
she wouldn’t stop
and they all heard,
the judges, witnesses and prosecutors
heard her scream
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poem by Linda Hepner
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Desert Ditty
I’m walkin’ through the desert
Sand gets in your toes
Scorpions come bite your feet
And dust gets up your nose
But I’m walkin’ with my baby
We’re travellin’ hand in hand
We’ll make this trip together
And reach the Promised Land
I’m climbin’ up the mountain
Stumblin’ on the rocks,
Little critters bite your flesh
Runnin’ like a fox
But I’m walkin’ with my baby
We’re travellin’ hand in hand
We’ll make this trip together
And reach the Promised Land
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poem by Linda Hepner
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