Sunday, May 12, 2013

Carol Oberg - Three Poems


Did you see me fall against the house
When I put my cigarette butt in the pop can
And after popping back up from my knees
Fall, back, again, on my butt;
I wasn’t drunk at 9 a.m.
Nor still tipsy from the night before
But it hasn’t happened again
So it’s hardly even a thought now-
Unless someone, like you,
Saw me fall, pop back up
Only to do it again that
Plop plop
On the dry deck
In my winter jacket
Scarf, hat, the gloveless hands
Of a serious outdoor smoker
And called all the neighbors
Your entire widespread family
Then posted the video of it
On your facebook page
Then it would be a thought
Worth my sweaty alarm
Because you could be anywhere
Everywhere I am falling next
One time after another
Picking myself up all alone
Unless I am broke can
And can not pop up.

Sunshine Makes Rain Impossible

The first green grass
Is that linguini piece
Growing behind the wood stove
That exhales wide tubes of smoke
Without inhaling ever and
The thermostat’s set at 67
But its 75 inside again with
Most of the windows open.
It’s time we let the
Fire burn out and in bed
Before dawn decide
To make that long trip
To town because
There are not enough
Blankets in this house.

Wisdom Runs

On the opposite wall the cheap print looks
Remarkably like you hanging for real
But lifeless, the fake eyes bulging wet-like
Above the proud manipulations of your generous
Head and long neck sawed off, glued tight to
An oak board nailed sturdy onto knotty pines
Someone ages ago went searching the virgin woods
To cut down, hand saw and plane, varnish yellow
The walls and ceilings with deep grooves for winter flies
And spiders to nestle their own in safe hiding
As the years turn the cabin planks shiny orange
Waiting for others to go back out
Search deep in the quiet November forest
For your kind my dear. You poor deer
God made smart enough to grow, to even crown
Your head with a mighty rack for all to wildly pursue
The glorious boast-- Got One
to take and eat then show the rest of you off
No knife no fork scrapes anywhere, you’re magnificent
Alive in multiple memories, some of you buried in white
Forever hiding, collecting inches of freezer burn
but with us. Still.

 Carol Oberg has published widely with Blue Mountain Arts, Inc.; was one of three featured poets( ten poems published) in Ancient Paths Literary Magazine, issue 16, in 2010; in the fall will have a poem published in The Fourth River (Chatham University).  She and her husband are retired on a small inland lake in Michigan's Upper Penninsula.

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