
Electric Shards is a regular feature of The Central California Poetry Journal. You will find individual poems, or a small group of poems by poets who may or may not be featured on other pages in the Journal. Each group of poems on this page is linked to the list of featured poets at the top of the page. Electric Shards pages remain on-line in the 2001, 2000, 1999, 1998, 1997, and 1996 editions of the Journal.
Karen L. Kerkhoff
Joe Brooks
Ronald Dean Jones
Mike Jaynes
Kimberly Lapis
Ellen Lindquist
The Poetry of Karen L. Kerkhoff
She sits on cushions piled high,
Silken wings of feathers black,
Wings stretched wide in prideful vain,
Beauty blinks her tear-lit eyes,
"Trust in me, my little one,
On feathered wings they fly high,
With tender tone, Raven speaks,
To feathered nest he brings his bride,
Morning greets them strong and bright,
Years passed by in rapid pace,
"You pompous fool, you silly bird!"
Raven hung his noble head,
"Beauty, come to me my sweet,"
"They say that we should not be,"
"I am black and you are white,
Beauty sits on cushions high,
watching endless days march by,
Thinking she will surely die.
Until she meets the Raven.
Golden eyes, narrow beak.
She thinks that she has never seen,
Such a handsome Raven.
Raven gently speaks her name,
"Come with me, my lovely queen,"
says the hopeful Raven.
lifts them up towards the sky,
"Do you think that I can fly?"
Beauty asked the Raven.
together we can touch the sun,"
Beauty takes her first steps,
towards the waiting Raven.
Soaring, swooping 'cross the sky,
Until the moon begins to rise,
Then Beauty looks at Raven.
silver tears on jet black cheeks,
"Stay Beauty, do not leave,"
begs the saddened Raven.
firmly nestled by his side,
Down of jet and skin of pearl,
Beauty and the Raven.
Raven takes his morning flight,
Beauty watches in pure delight,
"Oh, my handsome Raven".
A smile upon Beauty's face,
Until the day we can't erase,
When Starling spoke to Raven.
"The strangest thing I ever heard!"
"You're a bird, and she is not!"
Starling screeched at Raven.
and took to his feathered bed,
wishing he were surely dead,
Poor, sad Raven.
said Raven tired, and oh so weak.
"Listen carefully, for I must speak,"
whispered the saddened Raven.
"That you are you, and I am me,"
"Why can't they just let us be?"
asked the tearful Raven.
I'm too tired to stay and fight,
We must part this very night,
For I am just a Raven."
Watching amber sunset skies,
Trying hard not to cry,
Dreaming of her Raven.
Copyright © Karen L. Kerkhoff 2002, All Rights Reserved.
He sat his horse on the ridge overlooking the Interstate
He put his hand to the horse's neck as it sighed, and stamped
Down below, on the highway, nobody sees winter coming. His tattered black
and watched as winter limped into the valley. It came in
low and mean between the power lines and the clear-cut. It was
an old man on crutches with a grimace,
familiar pain on his cold bleached face.
its feet. The vapor of the horse's breath hung in the air around him,
then moved away through the trees like regretted words. The horses
neck beneath his hand thrummed like the high tension wires, the quiet fear
moving down through her neck and into the man on its back.
cloak of wind, full of leaves and birds, his painful face, his determination.
On the ridge above the interstate the rider and horse turn for home,
their backs hard and tense in the gathering gloom.
Copyright © Joe Brooks2002, All Rights Reserved
The Poetry of Ronald Dean Jones
What can I say, my mind's in two
Where can I hide my soul spreading the floor,
Escaping center as honey seeking Earth's embrace
Whispering breath causing flurry 'cross your hair
Stillness quaking heaven from my heart
Hours expiring the length of tomorrow
Desire lying dormant in the snow
Viewers crossing softly, aligned as by magnets
Shuffling gaze upon rhinoceros in the cage.
Copyright ©2002 Ronald Dean Jones
When I was done without place to go
Through dark dismay and sightless night
Today I tempt virtue and blessing
Letting go of the tether now slackened
No one to turn to or say hello
To you I prayed listening reply,
Though heart was filled with sorrow
No song I could rely
I lost my breath and fell with fright
My screams were heard by none but own,
Though many witness this fallen hour
Like birds that have walked but not flown
As damage or wounds without dressing
I lay to compose my finish through woes,
Giving song to my living transgressions
Not coming to end my miserable throes
As the sky cries and is deeply blackened
I ne'er understood then yet I now can say,
With storm passing and trees all aground
The sun also rises and begins a new day.
Copyright ©2002 Ronald Dean Jones
Driftwood must have it good.
This valley calls undulating
I thought I was on the
here, there and back again.
Floating to your core.
serpent waiters with no
eyes on their face.
right track. I thought
these palm trees didn't lie.
Copyright © Mike Jaynes 2002, All Rights Reserved.
The fog lifts
As though it had been a veil
Over my eyes.
The birds fly overhead,
Encircling me,
And I hear their cries.
The waves pound the shore
Like the steady beat of my heart,
And I am free.
The water laps at my feet
Cooling me within...
I belong to the sea.
Copyright © Kimberly Lapis 2002, All Rights Reserved.
At first he startled her but she was quickly
won over by his seeming gentility. She
apologized each time she had to take out
the trash, asking him if maybe she should
take it elsewhere and if he wanted to use
the hose to rinse out the place. He said no,
he preferred living in the trash. Each time
she went to dump her garbage they had a
little chat. He told her how he once worked
roping steers and did a stint on Venice
Beach, a lassoing act. To demonstrate,
he made a small circle with his rope. It
grazed against the side of the dumpster
and he finished by roping a black and white
TV someone was throwing out, yelling "yahoo"
when he caught it. He recited cowboy poems
with a rhyme on each line like "blue" and "shoe"
or "cloud" and "loud" and he told her that
Bakersfield's oil dykes, plying their upward-downward
movements, were signs from God.
Copyright © Ellen Lindquist 2002, All Rights Reserved.

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