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View Full Version : Collage Poem #5- Barker Of Dreams



Steppe
12-16-2015, 11:15 PM
l


we came over the hill
searching for magic
and the music of crowds

stars and moons
neon lit

green carnival eyes
nomadic wheels
in the wind

tent flapping shadows
castles of light and sound
phantasms in motion
time far away

in the bright glitter
of the barker of dreams

the road home
forgotten


ll


daddy
your name drops slowly on waiting hearts
like stones we gathered from the river
and laid in walls of memory
time out of mind

drops slowly on dreams of the valley
on weeds and grass and sage
and colors our hands our jeans our hair
with the blue and the brown of the earth and the sky

and the dust of old roads

forever


lll


hanging shadows
in the worshiping sun

follow night
past window prayers
of amazing grace


when my grandparents died
fences fell
and roofs sagged

weeds
turned their ears listening
for the sound of
God bless this house

psalms and gospels heard
in the wind


lV


their names
in the sky

and the smoke
of the clouds

and the rain
in the wind

and the hawk
in the sun

and the geese
on their long journey home

and the grass
with the language of sparrows


V


new the house
of western pine
the sap liquid
and dropping with dreams

soft
in the eaves
moonless pigeons
cooing the dark

without sun
and morning yet
a drift of smoke
beyond the hood

wanders off
in silence
through the wood


Vl


dad's
old truck
and international
host

bushes
climbed it
like a weathered
post

in the field
an artful
rust

of roaring
twenties
wander
lust



Vll


old ghosts
wind walking

stop and converse
without talking


then peering
at someone speaking

sadly they vanish
behind them
peeking


Vlll


field ice
crows silent
in the frozen shadows

grey clouds
over the valley
the winter farm

trees
leafless now
lean their limbs unnatural
without bird or nest


in the house
cups of coffee
sliced pear
and apple

hot baths
lilac soap
warm towels


on white fences
a shine of lamps

snowy moon drifts
stealing darkness
from the birdless roof

owl hoot

poplars shiver
in the cold wind


lX


against the wind
a little man
knurled hands
on hips

old Bull Durham
cigarette
in parched
and broken lips

his burdens hung
from shoulders round
his hair
like peppered snow

the leaf smoke
Stetson hat became
the man
some time ago

his Levi jeans
were union made
and graced
with union dirt

a Big Ben
pocket watch was there
in his faded
denim shirt


I see him now
at twilight's end
his features
lean and drawn

but it's ok
his kids will eat
there's work for him
at dawn


his image lingers
in the haze
then solely fades
away

to come again
down memory lain
on some
far distant day


much has been
forgotten now
but dad's still there
it seems

he stands like some
round shouldered rock

a man
of many dreams


X


what shinning sun
has found my heart
and occupies my dream

what gleaming star
meanders soul
like ripples on a stream

what morning meadow
motions mind
to wander dark and deep

those dusty roads
and drowsy days

where memory's moments meet

Kylabelle
12-18-2015, 03:53 AM
Steppe, this makes deep memory a beautiful place to wander and get lost in.

I have only read it all through just once but will return for more. Soulful and filled with warm ghosts.

I hope you are intending to collect these collage poems in a book, some day.

William Haskins
12-18-2015, 04:14 AM
reading these is like watching someone paint in a delicate balance of technique and emotion. you should be proud of these.

CassandraW
12-18-2015, 05:48 AM
These are lovely, Steppe. The second one in particular got to me -- I lost my father this summer, and reading it made me think of him.

Steppe
12-20-2015, 11:42 PM
Thank you all for reading these and your kind comments.