Scenes From the Divided Highway is my first poetry collection. These poems were written between the mid eighties through to the early nineties.
I thought I would share them with those of you who love poetry, or with those of you who might like a glimpse of me that I rarely show.
Whatever the case may be, here are some I have chosen from the collection, that I think were the better of the bunch. I hope you enjoy them.
The Lake of Life
From a cliff high above
A lake called life lay below.
A glasslike lake of smoothest hope
On which a ripple had yet to dance.
From my perch, with awe
I took my stance and fell
Into the puff ball sky.
Down I fell
Right through the surface
Of that glasslike lake of
Smoothest hope;
On which a ripple has yet to dance.
Curves and Straightaways
For years now I have
Suffered and enjoyed an
Insatiable wanderlust.
The freeway’s sleek efficiency
With dangerous curves and smooth
Straightaways with an audience
Of mountains and trees and
Symmetrical ceilings of
Cirrus and Cumulus
That easily tease and tempt me.
Seaside Lounges
It all seems so far away…
Sun worship in ancient freedom.
My loose feet in firm sand,
Shining, glittering sequins
Of tides and the sea sunny smells
Of ocean breeze.
I’ll walk a while this way in heaven
Until earthly thirsts take me down
To seaside lounges
Where pieces of heaven never stray
Too far away.
It is sweet bliss to kiss
the fragrant lips of wine
In powerful, friendly sunshine.
To Kiss Her Lips
To kiss her lips and
Breathe upon the midst
Of feminine beauty,
My dreams are
No longer dreams.
My wishes
No longer wishes.
I taste the warm smile
Of her flesh
To meld with mine.
My Threadbare Shirt
This threadbare shirt feels good on me.
It is a little like me
A little worn in action
But it’s just a shirt stained
With life’s encounterings.
It caresses my torso
In soft shelter,
Not shocking or chic in design But just the shirt of a man.
I am tired but anxious and curious
To live out my days
Threadbare and worn with missing buttons
And feeling best with sleeves rolled up
And shirt tails waving free…in the wind.
Sunsets
Ten thousand sunsets I have lived
And thousands more I hope.
Though I have taken the chance
To view and enjoy
Almost every bedding down
Of the sun;
Each one, without exception
Has failed to match
The presence of you.
A Charge of Renewal
O sweet you
In your so ever innocence
You brought a spark
To my old heart.
This charge of renewal traversed
Your eyeless fingers
To kiss
My finger less eyes.
Your beauty is truth
And ugliness scorns unlike.
Some Secret
They who live to spite the wealthy
Live on guilded terms.
The shopping cart shufflers
And bag lady lovelies
Know some secret that prevents
The destruction of trees.
A Mid-Air Masterpiece
Looking down at rock sand cliffs
Casually drifting and hovering eternal
And hunting with ease
While freely playing
This feathered, wonder
With painted wings,
This racing Hawk
Is a mid-air masterpiece.
This Great Soul
A great soul sat down with me
To sing his street corner songs;
His guitar case lay empty
Of monetary mentions.
This great soul told me this;
Sing your own voice
It’s the only truth.
Your Love Feeds Me
Asleep, your love feeds me.
Awake, I drink of your love
Breathing in and out
How neat your scent
How sweet love’s taste,
Your hair on my face
Tickles my fancy…
There’s not a cloud in your eyes.
KT
These are lovely, Kilgore. (I’m passing along the URL to share with a poet writing friend.)
Thank you AN. By all means. I hope your friend enjoys them too.
KT, I only wish I could write like you do.
This is not an original. But it is how I feel.
Vermont’s my home
it’s in my blood
it’s spread throughout the house
thanks to the mud
and when I want to be alone
I go and walk in my Green Mountains
I walk among the maples and the birch
Say hello to the deer and critters
It’s where I’ll stay
though I may sneak out some winters day
Thank you Nirek. I really like the poem you posted. Very nice. I’m not a man without a country, but I am sort of a man without a state, due to my extensive wanderings. I do, in some part, envy you for your love of home.
My Dad moved us around a lot, KT. We always came back to Vermont when Dad was away TDY. I was born here and plan to leave this world from here. Plenty of Vermonters have moved all over the place. I just have found my little slice of heaven here in Northfield Vt. 4.3 acres surrounded by 151 acres of woods owned by the town. At the end of a dead end road.
I count myself as very lucky.
I would agree Nirek. Sounds like heaven to me. 😉
Really enjoyed this collection of your work, KT. A real psychological salve to read poetry after feeling buried in the negativity of the day to day political garbage.
Seaside Lounges was one of my favorites, you really expressed such a wonderful, gentle tranquility and joy of existence in that poem.
And the imagery in A Mid-Air Masterpiece was very evocative, well done!
Thanks so much for sharing your work, Killgore, it was a very appreciated oasis in my day.
Thank you very much Ad. I’ve had these for a long time and always felt a little self conscious about posting them here.
Your reply makes me glad I did. I can still vividly remember the day I wrote Sea Side Lounges. I was living in Southern California and used to take long walks along the beach, and I would get thirsty after about 4 miles, and there was this nice little lounge with outdoor tables that I would stop in for a few cold ones. 😉