Contemplative poems

Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.

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Dave Bonta

Psalm 19:2

Night showed morning as in a theater the still of the void, which she had let drop into me.

Dave Bonta

The snows of yesteryear

This is no winter in which I am snow under the barber’s hand but a sack of hard time, late and gone. I read a clock with pleasure after that.

Dave Bonta

Austerity measures

Alone, I went to church in a stone and went home to a car to go five or six days to supper.

Dave Bonta

Geomancy

I speak with the land, which seems to be wise and say little, though things change— ore to money, money to profit, the afternoon to paper.

Dave Bonta

I slept in a paper box, forgot where I put my hands. People work to make a light into my cellar. I am sorry for lying to my picture in the glass, for writing to please friends and not the rules of art. I found carpenter’s tools, which spoke to me.

Dave Bonta

Conceivable

I went to my father’s wedding as a long white winter, a doubt, a fruitless precaution. Life did not stop.

Dave Bonta

Populist

I put my hand among many hands, indifferent to the king. Who did I respect? The rain. Dirt.

Dave Bonta

On retreat

Serpents in waste places feed on larks, they say. Fiddlers go up and down the fields in my mind. How to put things to order in this prison for ill words? I shall scour it.

Dave Bonta