Jacqueline Jules
Hours
A milestone birthday approaches,
and my husband asks what I fancy.
A gold bracelet perhaps?
Diamonds? Pearls?
My pirate heart has one desire.
Hours
altered by alchemy
into a commodity like coins
to clink one by one
into a strongbox,
hide under the floorboards,
protect from thieves.
Hours
I can count and caress
late at night
when my fingers itch
with all they have yet to hold.
Copyright © 2014 by Jacqueline Jules.
Pedaling Truth
The longer I ride,
the less stable
truth becomes.
Blind bats and
mice preferring
cheese to chocolate
have been debunked
along with chopped earthworms
that grow again from two halves
and mothers who raise children
immune to disappointment,
illness, and grief.
Too much of what
I once pedaled faithfully
is now a flat tire
on a rusted bicycle.
Searching for other myths
to keep my wheels inflated
I find comfort in the hum
of spinning spokes,
reminding me
that what hurts now
may not always be my truth.
Copyright © 2014 by Jacqueline Jules.
Jacqueline Jules is the author of the poetry chapbooks, Field Trip to the Museum (Finishing Line Press) and Stronger Than Cleopatra (ELJ Publications). Her poetry has appeared in over 100 publications including ArLiJo, Poetic Voices Without Borders, and Gargoyle. She is the author of thirty books for young readers. Visit www.jacquelinejules.com
Visit this author's homepage at www.jacquelinejules.com
Merrill Leffler
Breakfast
In memory of William Stafford
This morning I'll skip the bacon
and eggs and have a poem over light —
two or three if you don't mind.
I feel my appetite coming on.
And even a stack of flapjacks
which I love — with butter
and boysenberry jam spreading
their fingers of sweetness over
the ragged edges — won't do me now.
When this hunger's on, only a poem
will do, one that will surprise my need
like a stranger knocking
at the door (a small knock — at first,
I hardly hear it) to ask directions,
it turns out, to this house. He's looking
for me. Who are you I ask? Your brother
he says, the one you never knew you had
or the one who you've been trying to remember
all your life but somehow couldn't recall
until now, when he arrives. And there he is
before me smiling, holding out his arms
— and all this by chance. Do you
believe it?
So serve me up a poem friend,
but just go easy on the tropes,
for instance, synecdoche and such. A simile
or two is fine and metaphor's all right.
A rhyming quatrain, maybe on the side
would be ok, but not too much —
they sometimes give me gas.
God I love a breakfast such as this.
It gives me a running start and keeps me going
through to dark when I'm as hungry as a horse.
But that's another poem. Let's eat.
Copyright © 2012 by Merrill Leffler. Reprinted by permission of Dryad Press.
Biography:
Merrill Leffler, currently Poet Laureate of Takoma Park, Maryland, is the author of Mark the Music, his most recent book. He has been active in the literary life of the Washington area as a publisher and teacher for more than forty years.