Nocturne in Blue and Yellow As she walks home on the silent Maine street yellow lamps flash like sunflowers burning in emptiness filled with clouds of breath and blue shades of moonlit oceans - She feels behind her back a star's blade drill between ribs probe her flesh,reach chest, lay in the warm flow of her blood - She stops, hears lines of poems unfold in space whispers - Inexplicable friendly presence in sudden blue and yellow embrace - Far away, where doves lacework the Medieval Home of Doges, another wakes as sunlight spreads its yellow rays like buttercups dancing. The salt spray of the ocean lingers and she feels on her face the brush of a warm hand - Her blood stirs, whispers of friendship echo. She stops as melodies of rhyme ring in her ears - She is wrapped in a yellow and blue embrace - Poems have hands, faces, voices. They hand around Saint Mark's Square, float on the lagoon, cuddle in a gondola, till a distant call makes them roll along a bird's wings to cross the ocean in a flight from gold to blue - Poems have hearts, souls, lives. They pass by lighthouse beacons, float in lobster boats, snuggle on sleds whooshing down a snow covered hill, until a distant voice makes them stop, colors blend in friendship and they embrace.
This poem is a collaboration between myself and Paula. We live in two
different worlds, Maine and Italy, yet poetry has brought us together across
We want to know if the message we are sending is clear at the end of the second stanza. Are the last two smaller stanzas redundant? If not, do they tie the two places together successfully with little bits of description about each area?
We try to show here that poetry can bridge all distances and boundaries and the richness of description can make that possible.
Please send us your suggestions. We want to know if this collaboration worked and if we should do more.
Lawry & Paula
Innocence The white sails of summer Were pulled down the bay, As they tried to capture youth. It eluded all by the boy At the rudder. The salt spray stung The innocent cheeks of reality And the boat swept from land. Racing faster out to sea Clouds gathered. The angry wind of fate Tossed the timeless vessel, Sending it perilously to shore To meet its destined trial, On the rocks.
C.Lawry Brown's Questions:
Is my message clear enough? Is the innocence of youth that is stung by reality and hauled into things beyond his control spelled out? By showing the sails as white I try to show the purity of this one. I also try to slant rhyme by using the second and fourth lines. Are bay and boy too far apart to be considered rhyme as well as reality, sea and vessel,trial?
The Books I Read My father was a gust of wind he swept the magic dust of love into my eyes still blinking at the light of life. I did not know he would disappear after he drew my shape onto the page of my mother's womb after he wrote my first paragraphs. I tried to read the book of death but all the pages were stuck with dark. My eyes not yet adapted to the alphabet soon learnt to read the books at home my mother's pages...filled with lies and precious doodles by a man with craft. He wrote some chapters on me too his firm hands left ink in dark spots that shame and anger will hardly erase. I try at times to read the book of death but all the pages are stuck with dark.
Paula Grenside's Questions:
The poem aims at showing how children often come to life and, still so very young, have to learn how to read life. A hard book that makes them yearn for a different reading.
Is the message clear enough?