|
Poetry
by Nicole Nicholson
KATIE,
BAR THE KITCHEN DOOR
Katie bar the kitchen door;
Elder eyes do a nervous dance -
A grandson leaves, their last chance.
A clean slate, marching to war:
This young man with bullets will dance -
Katie bar the kitchen door.
He'll come back, more scarred than before,
Promenading nightly in nightmare's dance,
Broken before he had a chance -
Katie bar the kitchen door.
top
A
QUEEN'S EPISTLE
To my dear husband David: Tell me -
Do you have any regrets? Tell me, as
You steadily grow older and your bones
Grow colder, do you have any regrets? I
Walk a line daily between regret and
Contentment as I see the fruits of these
Many years together: countless moments
Of joy amongst constant sadness, glimpses
Of serene paradise in pools of dark madness,
And a son - such a beautiful son - who
I place all my hopes on as sweet garlands
Around his strong neck. I watch him collect
These hopes daily and store them in his heart's
Treasure box for the day that you are gone
And he will step forward to take your place.
But is it the will of the Holy One of
Israel that he indeed take your place?
Forces seek to displace the wishes of your
Heart - fueled by power and perhaps born of
That one moment of weakness when you laid
Eyes on me bathing on that rooftop ages
And ages ago. I am torn still between
Love and penitence as I was back then,
And I suppose that I always will be.
I watch the remainder of this household
Clamor in insanity, drunk by madness,
Ambition, the judgment of the Lord, I
Know not what - but it seems to me that one
Fleeting moment of paradise was bought
At a heavy price of panic, pretense,
And purloined lives. But I still love you - I
Will always love you - no matter how bad
It gets. But tell me, dear David, do you
Have any regrets? Love, Bathsheba
top
THE
EDGE
What do you do when you
Arrive at the edge of the Earth?
Do you stop and stare with awe
Or recoil in dread?
Or do you careen over
The cliff instead?
Or do you take a running start,
Then shut your eyes, spread your arms
And sail off the edge into forever,
Hoping that you'll suddenly sprout
A dandy pair of wings?
Don't worry, dear dreamer;
Your wings will appear
Just as you sail into the air,
Pushing back the sky with your nose
After leaping off your toes,
And you will sail away
Forever
Under a midnight ceiling
Of indigo flecked with gold.
top
Nicole Nicholson is a 31 year-old
poet who has been writing poetry since age 12, drawing inspiration
from the world, people, and events around her. She has recently
been published on PoetsHaven.com as well as in Word Slaw and
plans to release a poetry chapbook entitled "Raven Feathers"
in the fall of 2008. A collection of her recent work can be found
online at: http://ravenswingpoetry.com She lives in Columbus,
OH with her fiance. An October wedding is planned.
|
|
