Thursday, September 4, 2008

BLACKBIRDS

BLACKBIRDS

Blackbirds struggle in desperation
Circle over the blue river
Across green pastures
Now the worms death-bed
Fallen berries
Work in the cycle of decay.
They cut a path through the gorge
Bracketed by the mountains
Anemic trees on either side
Their habits and instincts
Endowed by what they cannot label.
In the wayward meaning of loss
And success they leave the climbing snow
For New Zealand or Africa
In liaison with the seasons
Warble in variations
As they crowd the sky.

Arnal Kennedy

THE BAR

THE BAR

In the dim light of the bar
Patrons spill out near closing time.
Their emotions left in their empty glasses
While I talk absently to my quaff.
Suddenly, a woman sits next to me
Her conversation walks all over
The place about something absurd.
And, dips unexpectedly into a nail biter
Then concludes with cavalier wisdom.
Our laughter fills the edges of the room.
A chance encounter becomes durable
As cupid inches closer to unsheathe
An arrow.

Arnal Kennedy

ELATION

ELATION

God, I have sought you with elation
Beside eager people of good intention.
Those who mine your veins of
Communion in a stain glass church.
We are not outside any part of you.
Meanwhile, there are children with
Hands on hips who prance through
The fire hydrants spray. Near them,
In a vacant lot, sitting on a wreck,
Are adolescent lovers who believe in
Promise like a strawberry horizon.
Can you see with awe and under-
Standing a hopeful world? Undeniable,
There is his mark; to embellish this
Reflection of an active life is a
Posthumous work still in progress.

Arnal Kennedy

THE FIG TREE

THE FIG TREE

After the evening sex act
With my crazy ex-wife
Who knows professional tricks
And can work her body like a whore
Answered the question
Now is there peace between us?

The silent knowledge gathered
Steam of the power of woman
Over man reigns immortal
Like the truth of scripture
As she fired up the brim stone
To make me step back and squeal “oh”.

She molded me like clay on a potters wheel
Looked intensely into my eyes
And said, “I will give it all to you!”
I forgot the hurt, the indiscretion
That made the burning stars
Fall out the sky like dying embers.

We got to the soft conversation
Instead of the earthquake vibrations
Of anger, and saw myself as culprit
For every human action produces a result
So the cursed fig tree
Will never again bare fruit.

Arnal Kennedy

LEARNING LESSONS

LEARNING LESSONS

It was in college in Yuma
And her face belonged
On a billboard.
She was Negro and Mexican
And not given her respect
In her hometown of Nogales.

Because her hair was too kinky
And her butt too big
Her skin the color of horchata.

The day she arrived
She was envied by other girls
Who had to watch dog their boy friends
And hated by boys who found out
She was not easy access.

But she found me
The only dog who was properly trained
And I learned early on
What is love anyway
Except the ability to grovel.

Arnal Kennedy

HOW IT IS

HOW IT IS

A wife must be trained
That’s all there is to it.
Especially on Sunday’s
When you value your entertainment.
She may not understand
Your fascination with football
Her face screwed up
Like a contortionist.
She refers to it as sweaty men
In tights who run into each other
And fall down, and forget their
Homophobia of patting their
Teammates butt when something
Goes right. She wants to take
Our children to the Christmas
Parade, and can’t you miss a game?
Yes I can but not this one.
Although your family means everything
The way a rudder is to a boat.
Today the grainy air will be mutual loathing.

Arnal Kennedy

LAND OF DRUMS

LAND OF DRUMS [For Phillis Wheatly]

Stolen from the Land Of Drums
Near the Senegal River
By enemy tribesman
For brightly colored cloth
Trinkets, rum, cowrie shells,
That determines status of a man.

Congo drums thump out the warning
Slave traders have come ashore
And in the rice fields chasing away birds
Dahobar would abduct you, your Mother
And your friend Obour for a debt
Fear swoops over you like a great bird.

African warriors drag the three
Of you through the thick bush
To the ocean’s rhapsody, Dahobar
His teeth gleaming haggles fiercely
Over his commodity like a shop owner
Leaves you with white men and imagination.

Two male captives jump over board
And are eaten by sharks, your memories
Die on the water like a grave
For the unforgiven. Close to America
They throw your Mother into the sea
And this new world will brand you slave.

Arnal Kennedy