STEVE EMMA

NEW POETRY

Since the publication of my first two books I have continued to write poetry but have declined to publish anything new up until now.  Poems never before published will now be posted here for everyone to see.  I may decide to publish a new book through one of the web publishers sometime in the future.

The color of forgetting is impossible
The loss of tragedy a blackening resiliency.
At no time does the swaying of time
Cease to assuage the infinity of injustice
An aura of Bluets cast their fading sentiment
The Lily of the Valley a pallor of olfactory drowsiness
A myth, a Siren’s song, a trail of a scent
In a language long forgotten

He wept like a child
as I was to weep like a child
many years later.
and there was no
consoling him then
as there is no consoling me now.

Memory is as real
as  the moment of inception
for the heart is a timeless
guardian ruling over us
in an untimely fashion

One day, a day when the sun
will warm half of me
and the cool shadow
will chill my other half
I will find that balance
and understanding
to distinguish between
what is real and
what is merely true.

The blue scales
Shed from eye light
All is true dreaming.
                                                                                                                                             
All colors,Red,
blue, bright yellow
 Flash lids eye close!
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     If this yellow be God
I see, I believe!
                                                                                                                                                                                                                If this blue be heaven
I will rise up to it!
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   If this red be love
I will burn in it!

For some reason today
When you looked up
from across the table
I fell in love with you again
It happens often enough
for me not to take notice
but today for some reason
I am at the mercy
of young innocence.

The moon waxes bright
the finality of the dark
we walk in silence
a balance
huge boulders recede
to blurry shadows
stark tree limbs
a blessing
There is a chorus
in our hearts
a harmony in the
knowing between us
and outside of us
such a beautiful stillness
Such an ascension of spirit!

The night hosts the bright tabernacle of the sky.
There is a fierce loyalty here
An unwillingness to lose a long friendship
Something threatens the cricket's chirping.
     The silence of a shadow is only momentary
                                                                                                                                         Cycles of the moon, bright and half bright
Stars appear twinkling bright and half bright
Clouds pass bright and half bright
I want to live my life as this poem
Moment by half moment, bright and half bright
And then ...pass

I should write nothing
I should publish nothing
I should be like the night
That only holds the stars
Every night the same undeniable beauty
Every night the same unsolvable mystery
No one questions the stars
No one criticizes their existence
No one says change that star
Move that constellation
But everyone ponders their beauty
And wonders of their meaning
And no one is given any answer

Come bathe in my river
I will wash you with cool hands
Where gentle currents will immerse
You in liquid dreams
Where the shimmering pebbles
Flicker like silver backed fish
And you, spotted like a leopard,
A halo, a black eclipse of hair,
Spreading like a dark inky cloud float
And a great blue heron rising from
Its rock perch cast an unforgettable
Shadow over your limpid body

I will pass away
There is no sadness
In what I say
All that I am
All that I loved
Will be but a dry husk
To the progeny of seed
My soul leaves behind

©Steve Emma 2008