Poetry from Ed Meek

March in New England with Mookie

I dragged my lazy labradoodle Mookie

out for an afternoon waltz,

but it was railing and snaining

the snow and ice as slick and slippery

as soap beneath our paws and feet.

Still we tap-danced through the muddles,

bleary-eyed under a great grey sky,

smeared as it was with smudgy clouds.

The smog was thick as peat.

He kept his nose to the ground,

hunting for squirrels and bunnies.

I was looking for new words.

We trudged on together

embracing our foggy fate.

It Is

what it isn’t. Dark matter abounds.

As you live and breathe, tumors

                                           are growing like beets.

                                           Gypsy moths are denuding the trees—

                                           now undressed for winter.

                                           All the President’s men and women

                                           are having second thoughts.

                                           Behind the seals swim the sharks.

Metaphors

When one thing stands

for another, as in:

a sea of troubles,

we have a metaphor,

a kind of symbol

of problems—a figure

of speech that comes alive

on the page. What

we want to avoid

is a dead metaphor

like: he is a snake,

though snakes are beautiful,

diamonds on their back,

Satan was a snake

and no one believes

in him anymore

though evil poisons us still.

It’s confusing, like

a mixed metaphor,

a figure of speech that dances

on a sea of troubles.

Make no mistake,

we could drown

in a sea of troubles

or lose ourselves in metaphor

and end up

at a dead end

or worse find ourselves

drowning in a sea

of dead metaphors.

On the Islands

–Researchers found that sleep contains islands of wakefulness and wakefulness islands of sleep.

At night asleep in the island of wakefulness, you are restless but exhausted. You make plans for the next day. You’ll build a boat. Many beautiful palm trees cover the island, a cay offshore teems with tropical fish. You’ll need tools. You’ll fashion an axe with a sharp stone and bamboo. A spear to hunt and fish.

During the day, you explore the island and discover to your surprise, many small islands of sleep. You find yourself nodding off as you stare at the ocean and sway to the sound of waves washing ashore. You lose track of time. It strikes you suddenly how small your world has become. You shake yourself awake. There’s much to do.