Ode to Harry Smith.
I am a lonely cowboy, and I'm off in the Texas
train. I am moving home to heaven. I am a noted
highway man. I asked them to bring me a pistol,
three rounds of ball. I can't sleep for dreaming.
I'd rather be in some dark holler. I heard
death call. I remember the time just before
the war. I said expressman, expressman. I saw
the light from heaven shining all around.
I thought I heard that K.C. when she blowed.
I will sing a little song but it ain't very long.
I wish I was a mole in the ground. I woke up
one morning in May. I woke up this morning
between one and two. I woke up
this morning, four o' clock. I'll tell
you all a story about Ommie Wise.
I'm going away, I'm going away.
I'm going back where I come.
I'm in the battlefield for my lord.
I've a father on the rocky road.
I've got no sugar baby now.
Copyright 2007
Do not reprint without permission from the author
Is James Your Boss? by David Meeker
No, James was the old owner who used to go on all the buying trips with the
old plant buyer, Stephanie. I am the new plant buyer and Bill is the new
owner. Apparently, James is already going out there this fall, with Gary,
and so they want me to join up for the plant trips in Spring and afterward,
with someone named Jeff. I'm going to talk to Emily about this--and possibly
Kelly--and then maybe we can gang up on Bill, who will most likely side with
Karen and Molly. Ryan will stay neutral--he doesn't care--and Vicky just
quit. Brenda's on my side but she'll stay quiet, as usual. I'll keep you
up-to-the-minute.
copyright 2006, reprinted by permission of the author
old plant buyer, Stephanie. I am the new plant buyer and Bill is the new
owner. Apparently, James is already going out there this fall, with Gary,
and so they want me to join up for the plant trips in Spring and afterward,
with someone named Jeff. I'm going to talk to Emily about this--and possibly
Kelly--and then maybe we can gang up on Bill, who will most likely side with
Karen and Molly. Ryan will stay neutral--he doesn't care--and Vicky just
quit. Brenda's on my side but she'll stay quiet, as usual. I'll keep you
up-to-the-minute.
copyright 2006, reprinted by permission of the author
Christmas, 12/24/06, by Aaron Cohen
Christmas, 12/24/06
by Aaron Cohen
I.
It is impossible
that he whose confidence made him invincible to his children and wife is now gone.
It is not possible.
It is night now. I am writing this poem.
Every day he helped and he gave.
We know tomorrow will not be a magnificent day,
nor a day full only of pain.
I will get on a plane and fly sadly through the clouds to join the others in their
unmistakable grief
chanting it is not possible, how could this possibly be fair?
II.
Today is Christmas.
But there will be no presents opened in this house, in his house.
(we opened presents)
I hope we will light the fire that
he once took great pleasure lighting (it is now burning).
It is winter here and we are cold.
There are no flowers now except those that have been cut.
Can he touch what we cannot touch
Can we what he cannot?
We are doe-eyed and we are spent.
III.
We ate the elk stew at the barber's party together.
We handed history into trucks, fitting the past together like a puzzle.
As I picked up things awkwardly he could tell stories
while effortlessly moving heavy dressers into place with his strong hands.
He took his children under his wing and they are
still under his wing.
Grief has the word "If" hidden in it, but there is so much more to it.
Lord, there is no need for this.
The word for fear or even guilt in Japanese does not exist.
Here, the word to encompass this should be written up in the Book of Unjust.
I was told to bring music and photographs, things we could hold.
-Aaron Cohen, Christmas Day
Copyright 2006
Do not reprint without permission from author
by Aaron Cohen
I.
It is impossible
that he whose confidence made him invincible to his children and wife is now gone.
It is not possible.
It is night now. I am writing this poem.
Every day he helped and he gave.
We know tomorrow will not be a magnificent day,
nor a day full only of pain.
I will get on a plane and fly sadly through the clouds to join the others in their
unmistakable grief
chanting it is not possible, how could this possibly be fair?
II.
Today is Christmas.
But there will be no presents opened in this house, in his house.
(we opened presents)
I hope we will light the fire that
he once took great pleasure lighting (it is now burning).
It is winter here and we are cold.
There are no flowers now except those that have been cut.
Can he touch what we cannot touch
Can we what he cannot?
We are doe-eyed and we are spent.
III.
We ate the elk stew at the barber's party together.
We handed history into trucks, fitting the past together like a puzzle.
As I picked up things awkwardly he could tell stories
while effortlessly moving heavy dressers into place with his strong hands.
He took his children under his wing and they are
still under his wing.
Grief has the word "If" hidden in it, but there is so much more to it.
Lord, there is no need for this.
The word for fear or even guilt in Japanese does not exist.
Here, the word to encompass this should be written up in the Book of Unjust.
I was told to bring music and photographs, things we could hold.
-Aaron Cohen, Christmas Day
Copyright 2006
Do not reprint without permission from author
Among Other Things, by Aaron Cohen
Among Other Things
by Aaron Cohen
Last night
And the night before we lay in bed a thousand mile apart dreaming.
Mine: Auschwitz pretending
to be a movie theatre.
Yours: ___________________________________
Feburary 14.
So still outside the maple branches need to stretch
To keep from getting sore.
Today is the day of emergency chocolate
But forgiveness does not bind two people together.
He climbed the vine looking
to get back up to join us not meaning
to pull the rest of us down.
I hand you these things feeling
as though I’ve dropped
them before I even let go.
Among other things, seven gangsters were killed
On this day:
Japanese parachutists land
Arethra Franklin records Respect.
on this day we pull over to the side of the road on an island
weeping, and a bomb explodes in Amsterdam and oh!
Don’t forget: Wilde’s "The Importance of Being Earnest" opens in London
Among other things, love can grow
Like the vine around the bend
Copyright 2006
Do not reprint without author's permission.
by Aaron Cohen
Last night
And the night before we lay in bed a thousand mile apart dreaming.
Mine: Auschwitz pretending
to be a movie theatre.
Yours: ______________________________
Feburary 14.
So still outside the maple branches need to stretch
To keep from getting sore.
Today is the day of emergency chocolate
But forgiveness does not bind two people together.
He climbed the vine looking
to get back up to join us not meaning
to pull the rest of us down.
I hand you these things feeling
as though I’ve dropped
them before I even let go.
Among other things, seven gangsters were killed
On this day:
Japanese parachutists land
Arethra Franklin records Respect.
on this day we pull over to the side of the road on an island
weeping, and a bomb explodes in Amsterdam and oh!
Don’t forget: Wilde’s "The Importance of Being Earnest" opens in London
Among other things, love can grow
Like the vine around the bend
Copyright 2006
Do not reprint without author's permission.
Slow Format, by Aaron Cohen
Slow Format
I am oozing cliche now.
Everything is expected. I see the future.
It's Monday morning and your love for me has retreated further.
By Tuesday you will have forgotten the color of my eyes.
By Wednesday my middle name, by Thursday my birthday.
We sit in your father's basement office and go through his trinkets one by one.
I put that desperate poem in his casket whose words burned up with your love for me.
I used to give you gifts and you would break into a joy I have never seen a woman feel or show
and now you tell me those feelings were wrapped in confusion and worry.
You are making me forget who I am as you forget who I was.
I forget who I am I will not forget who I am. I will forget who you are.
You are closed like a living clam now, tight, stubborn, will not smile or shine.
By Friday you will no longer see my face
By Saturday you will have forgotten everything.
There will be an ocean thrashing our last memories against the sharp rocks anyway.
Have you already forgotten that hike down the Matt Davis Trail, the ocean below us?
Your teeth sank into so many fresh pieces of fish with a smile on your face.
Can you remember the flesh of my hand on your
hand, my bear hugs around you, how I looked at your fingers
how I worshiped your reserved nature, how your smile and laugh brought me joy?
I have forgotten it all now. It is filed away with a rubber band or a chip clip. I'm going to do a slow format and there will be nothing left and you will be released and
can fly away again without memory of anything, a bird whose half-wings have grown stronger
Everything here is risk-free and full of opportunity, no taxes, no rain, no pressure.
Death-free.
Copyright 2007
Do not reprint without permission from the author
I am oozing cliche now.
Everything is expected. I see the future.
It's Monday morning and your love for me has retreated further.
By Tuesday you will have forgotten the color of my eyes.
By Wednesday my middle name, by Thursday my birthday.
We sit in your father's basement office and go through his trinkets one by one.
I put that desperate poem in his casket whose words burned up with your love for me.
I used to give you gifts and you would break into a joy I have never seen a woman feel or show
and now you tell me those feelings were wrapped in confusion and worry.
You are making me forget who I am as you forget who I was.
I forget who I am I will not forget who I am. I will forget who you are.
You are closed like a living clam now, tight, stubborn, will not smile or shine.
By Friday you will no longer see my face
By Saturday you will have forgotten everything.
There will be an ocean thrashing our last memories against the sharp rocks anyway.
Have you already forgotten that hike down the Matt Davis Trail, the ocean below us?
Your teeth sank into so many fresh pieces of fish with a smile on your face.
Can you remember the flesh of my hand on your
hand, my bear hugs around you, how I looked at your fingers
how I worshiped your reserved nature, how your smile and laugh brought me joy?
I have forgotten it all now. It is filed away with a rubber band or a chip clip. I'm going to do a slow format and there will be nothing left and you will be released and
can fly away again without memory of anything, a bird whose half-wings have grown stronger
Everything here is risk-free and full of opportunity, no taxes, no rain, no pressure.
Death-free.
Copyright 2007
Do not reprint without permission from the author
What I Believe, by Aaron Cohen
What I Believe
We prayed he would survive.
He would not survive.
And yet he is surviving.
How can we the living go on living
knowing our prayers were waiting in line to be processed?
Today Denver is buried but the snow shines like ten thousand crushed diamonds.
All is not lost.
I believe ten good things in the world will happen today
because of who he was and what he did or said or stood for.
What I mean is he said these things that inspired others to be better
people and their children to be better people and
on and on.
And that matters so much.
Thou shalt not question Him
Though shalt not question our anger
which must be squelched
by the love of angels. (his love).
He is gone but he is not
missing or separate from us.
He was a gift from God and a gift for God.
Passed on but not gone.
Our view of him will not be tainted by our view of Him.
Our view of him will not be tainted by his last days.
Copyright 2007
Do not print without permission from author
We prayed he would survive.
He would not survive.
And yet he is surviving.
How can we the living go on living
knowing our prayers were waiting in line to be processed?
Today Denver is buried but the snow shines like ten thousand crushed diamonds.
All is not lost.
I believe ten good things in the world will happen today
because of who he was and what he did or said or stood for.
What I mean is he said these things that inspired others to be better
people and their children to be better people and
on and on.
And that matters so much.
Thou shalt not question Him
Though shalt not question our anger
which must be squelched
by the love of angels. (his love).
He is gone but he is not
missing or separate from us.
He was a gift from God and a gift for God.
Passed on but not gone.
Our view of him will not be tainted by our view of Him.
Our view of him will not be tainted by his last days.
Copyright 2007
Do not print without permission from author
Morning Colors, by Aaron Cohen
Morning Colors
Fall leaves fall red
and the ground takes it
I once took a bullet
in my spleen to prove a point,
the kind you take to Floyd's Pawnship.
Get a couple bucks for. Maybe trade,
a cigarette holder from the fifities,
crooked logo of a hawk,
talon holding one of those fish
you see, arching from a hobo's
hooked hand as he draws it
near his mouth.
by Aaron Cohen
copyright 2007
Do not reprint without permission from the author.
Fall leaves fall red
and the ground takes it
I once took a bullet
in my spleen to prove a point,
the kind you take to Floyd's Pawnship.
Get a couple bucks for. Maybe trade,
a cigarette holder from the fifities,
crooked logo of a hawk,
talon holding one of those fish
you see, arching from a hobo's
hooked hand as he draws it
near his mouth.
by Aaron Cohen
copyright 2007
Do not reprint without permission from the author.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)