Serene Poems Story aired: Thursday, April 24, 2003
The challenge is Serene Poems. Please send us your calm, reflective, peaceful poems.
They should be no longer than 20 lines. The deadline is next Thursday, May 1st. Please tell us where you're from and how to pronounce your name. Send your poems to letters@here-now.org. You MUST include the word "serene" in the subject line of the email!
Here are examples:
April Morning Molly Saccardo
I'm not ready for the light. The shapes drawn with shadows are what catch my sleepy eyes most mornings. Early last Monday, when I descended the stairs, and looked down the lane that travels off from my front door, I stopped.
The trees arching over the road touching their branches in the middle, cast shadows of gold, lush honey gold like canyon sand. I thought of that ochre crayon from the box of ninety-six. It kept its point because I never used it much in childhood drawings. Maybe if I was coloring in pyramids from ancient Egypt, or mixing up a great pool of mud, I did. Now, there it was lying in bars on the concrete, a gift of uncommon color just when I have the peace to see such beauty. I'm not even a painter.
First and One Jim Behrle
Caught up in the thrum of a new subway car, caught up in the cascade of emerald numerals on a Matrix: Reloaded poster. Let it be me who speckles like raindrops across plexiglass, a bachelor drop fit to echo acros the muddy green pool. It is in the long dark sip, the daisied umbrella that shuts the eyes, the sky- blu camaflouge of a jacket one size too big. What begs begs for little, retinas a cola color. The classic black and white of new sneakers, one firm green dollar, a vain brush of the hair caught in the window after the haircut. When rain again gets forgotten. The moaning of the brakes.
