Saturday, January 28, 2017

Poetry: "Perhaps Not Happy New Year"

i. The Proper Adjective

perhaps not Happy New Year
try a Furious New Year on for size
try determined new year, try
incandescent glorious righteous, try
full of fight, try
striving for justice, try
screaming to the heavens new year

ii. On Chickens

Chickens are delicious.
Chickens are also delightful creatures.
Unfairly maligned as stupid,
chickens are darling sweethearts that will sit calm in your arms,
clucking soothingly.
Chickens let their chicks find refuge in tender, warm, feathery hugs.
Wouldn't you want that for your children, too?
Be a good chook mom to them
and other chicks, too.

iii. The Moon, The Moon

Lunar New Year springtime sprouts
blossoms burst green shoots yellow pollen
sun glares snow storms maybe gray skies
lunar cycles lunatic songs
counting days by crescents

bright moon dark moon flickering lamplights
2% chance of rapists in the dark
80% chance of hurt at home
100% chance of fuckery in the big house making laws
1000% fed up yesterday last year
1,000,000,000 full moons ago
if not more

if you are unsure, howl at the sky
and listen to the wind's answer

iv. Phoenix

I have a cousin who was born in the year of the Rooster. "Oh, so you're a chicken!" I teased her, because I was not yet enlightened on the chicken question at the time.

She turned to me slowly, her eyes big and serious and liquid dark, and said, very definitively:
"Phoenix."

I think of that moment often.

v. Fire Rooster

Perhaps that is what we need for this year: the Fire Rooster as
Furious Mother Phoenix Hen
re-blasting itself in its own nest in the company of
other Furious Mother Phoenix Hens who are keeping watch
because if we don't watch each other's backs then who will keep the poachers from trying to kill us when we are at our most vulnerable who will keep the rains off our delicate new feathers keeping us warm through the cold springtime night who will whisper us memories as we stumble on new talons and find our wings' ways and help us remember our own strength and our own songs

let springtime be loving and warm,
full of an incandescent compassion and determination to be kind.
If we can't have a happy new year,
let the fireworks speak for our souls.

it's not new year's without the smell of gunpowder.

No comments:

Post a Comment