Other Poems by John Frary:
"Hell, that aint no poem, it don't rhime."
Busted,
our dear little cat
staggered blindly
out of the kitchen . . .wearing an ice cream carton
for a hat.--
John Frary (via email)
Tue, 11 Sep 2001 00:51:52 EDT
Largo
Once a place of bent, tired weeds --
now, flashing fields of vines
signaling the call to Spring
Rural Cemetery - Kent Hollow, Vermont
There are no flowers
on my stones --
only tall wild oats
with stems
of dancing ballerinas
Kitty Hawk
Cinch up! Don your armor!
Stand defiantly
at the very edge
of the Outer Banks!
Steel yourself
against
the wind we know will come!
Diversification
Buffalo so big
my arrow so small
vegetarian Indian
Some
now close their eyes
to hide from me.
I close my eyes
and see worlds.
Molokai Native
white men
with black Bibles
cloak my golden skin
and drop thorns
of the Kiawe tree
before my naked feet
winter’s bounty
a worm
in every acorn
birds
in every tree
Last Leaf of Autumn
A small bird flew
into
the crooked branches
of an oak tree
turned into a golden leaf
and spiraled
to the ground.
Too bad ...
only God and I
saw this miracle.
Oblivious faces
emotions are cold
wandering through Goodwill stores
feeling discarded and old
The kiss of a raindrop
lingering softly on my face--
brings back a long ago sweet memory
of my mother’s loving embrace.
in the City
of ten thousand Buddhas
the census taker
MY
DREAMS
Profound illusions
that come to me in the night--
Like bright stars in the predawn sky,
they are dimmed by the oncoming light.
I
am
a builder
of pyramids
(Imagine appropriate comments, disclaimers, and notices here.)
To Main Page >>