Central California Poetry Journal

Volume 2002 Number 1

The Poetry of Central California Page 02f1

Electric Shards

2002

Table of Contents


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.


List of Poets Included in the 2002 edition of Electric Shards

Karen L. Kerkhoff
Joe Brooks
Ronald Dean Jones
Mike Jaynes
Kimberly Lapis
Ellen Lindquist


The Poetry of Karen L. Kerkhoff

Beauty and the Raven

She sits on cushions piled high,
watching endless days march by,
Thinking she will surely die.
Until she meets the Raven.

Silken wings of feathers black,
Golden eyes, narrow beak.
She thinks that she has never seen,
Such a handsome Raven.

Wings stretched wide in prideful vain,
Raven gently speaks her name,
"Come with me, my lovely queen,"
says the hopeful Raven.

Beauty blinks her tear-lit eyes,
lifts them up towards the sky,
"Do you think that I can fly?"
Beauty asked the Raven.

"Trust in me, my little one,
together we can touch the sun,"
Beauty takes her first steps,
towards the waiting Raven.

On feathered wings they fly high,
Soaring, swooping 'cross the sky,
Until the moon begins to rise,
Then Beauty looks at Raven.

With tender tone, Raven speaks,
silver tears on jet black cheeks,
"Stay Beauty, do not leave,"
begs the saddened Raven.

To feathered nest he brings his bride,
firmly nestled by his side,
Down of jet and skin of pearl,
Beauty and the Raven.

Morning greets them strong and bright,
Raven takes his morning flight,
Beauty watches in pure delight,
"Oh, my handsome Raven".

Years passed by in rapid pace,
A smile upon Beauty's face,
Until the day we can't erase,
When Starling spoke to Raven.

"You pompous fool, you silly bird!"
"The strangest thing I ever heard!"
"You're a bird, and she is not!"
Starling screeched at Raven.

Raven hung his noble head,
and took to his feathered bed,
wishing he were surely dead,
Poor, sad Raven.

"Beauty, come to me my sweet,"
said Raven tired, and oh so weak.
"Listen carefully, for I must speak,"
whispered the saddened Raven.

"They say that we should not be,"
"That you are you, and I am me,"
"Why can't they just let us be?"
asked the tearful Raven.

"I am black and you are white,
I'm too tired to stay and fight,
We must part this very night,
For I am just a Raven."

Beauty sits on cushions high,
Watching amber sunset skies,
Trying hard not to cry,
Dreaming of her Raven.

Copyright © Karen L. Kerkhoff 2002, All Rights Reserved.

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The Poetry of Joe Brooks

Winter Begins

He sat his horse on the ridge overlooking the Interstate
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.

He put his hand to the horse's neck as it sighed, and stamped
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.

Down below, on the highway, nobody sees winter coming. His tattered black
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

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The Poetry of Ronald Dean Jones

Rhinoceros in the Cage

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

Destroyer's Wake

When I was done without place to go
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

Through dark dismay and sightless night
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

Today I tempt virtue and blessing
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

Letting go of the tether now slackened
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

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The Poetry of Mike Jaynes

Highwayman

Driftwood must have it good.
here, there and back again.
Floating to your core.

This valley calls undulating
serpent waiters with no
eyes on their face.

I thought I was on the
right track. I thought
these palm trees didn't lie.

Copyright © Mike Jaynes 2002, All Rights Reserved.

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The Poetry of Kimberly Lapis

A Soul On The Water

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.


The Poetry of Ellen Lindquist

THE DUMPSTER MAN

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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