Spring in the Lehigh Valley, Pennsylvania

How to disappear completely

You wish there was nothing
but paradise
in the holes of the earth,
open doors all around.
Instead, the hollow soul
of the pavement calls: hurry,
hurry up, before you are swallowed.
You are ashamed because
you do not know if it is just sadness
that makes the sewer drains seem bigger.

And there are burn holes
in the living room carpet:
your father’s discarded cigarettes.
Holes in the sinks.
The bathroom mirror is a hole too.
When you look in, teeth
stare back. Behind this,
more bruised mirrors.

When you turn the lights off
your body becomes a hole
in the darkness. You are almost
not there.

And when you sleep,
you dream you are a door
becoming a hole, fist-sized,
big enough to let
anything in.

© 2006 Christine Klocek-Lim

National Poetry Month

April is National Poetry Month!

To celebrate, the Academy of American Poets is sponsoring all sorts of goodies: a Poetcast, a Poem-a-Day, and Life/Lines, to name a few. Today, my life/line is up on the Poets.org website. I picked a quote from James Wright's poem, "How Spring Arrives":

They too must have slept all night with their eyes open.


What is National Poetry Month you ask? From Poets.org's FAQ:
"National Poetry Month was established by the Academy of American Poets as a month-long, national celebration of poetry. The concept was to increase the attention paid-by individuals and the media—to the art of poetry, to living poets, to our poetic heritage, and to poetry books and magazines. In the end, we hoped to achieve an increase in the visibility, presence, and accessibility of poetry in our culture. National Poetry Month has been successful beyond all anticipation and has grown over the years into the largest literary celebration in the world."

Cicadas

*removed*

The Goodnight Show

The Goodnight Show's latest podcast is now available for your listening pleasure, featuring many fine poems (and one of mine). The latest show is called Beyond the Sea.

Michelle Buchanan, the podcast jockey (PJ), is wonderfully entertaining, and Didi Menendez is a fabulous producer.

Listen to Beyond the Sea and the other two shows, as well: Mello Yello and The Beat Goes On.

Fragile

I know these leaves
are not fragile,
but I’m alone
as I brush past them:
garbage in hand,
clear sky above
sharp with dawn.
The house is empty—
no socks on the floor,
no strands of hair in the tub,
just a few shreds
of cardboard from packing
and the fragile, faint
petal-soft
scent
of your missing soap.

© 2002 Christine Klocek-Lim

Fibromyalgia

Hands like clay, she slumps
some mornings like a bird
left too long asleep in the rain:
her pain comes and goes.

When the dull pattern
of storms lightens
she flies through the hours,
flexes her fingers
above the bright land
but even a sparrow knows
how much the rain
can narrow a day’s flight.

Often, before patience
takes hold, she flaps
her arms wildly
yet never lifts up.

This is when
she flutters quietly,
hands strapped
beneath twisted sheets,
wings fettered
beneath the weight
of too much clay.

© 2006 Christine Klocek-Lim

Contemplation