Two poems by Kenneth Gurney
Poem for Cafe Tazza
We gather at the shores
of black waters
lapping ceramic cup rims,
in perfect knowledge
that all god wants
is someone to talk to.
He sits there, in the third chair,
newspaper folded back and ignored,
because there is laughter to be made
and tears to be shed,
with this small gathering of people.
God doesn’t have coin
for this pleasure,
but knows this is a test.
And he smiles,
as everyone scrambles
through purses and pockets.
And loose change is collected
and contributed to his espresso
and bagel.
If this space would allow it,
God would build a fire,
to keep us warm
from the chill of our words.
“Silly, lovable humans.
I created you perfectly,”
he thinks to himself,
then goes, ready
to conduct his day.
Shedding Centuries
She is the blue woman,
holding her breath,
holding teardrops,
stroking the pearls
of her earrings,
searching for the right words
to return something.
Under her left arm,
a jar, that holds the river
where our war horses once drank.
Terra cotta that contains
the answer for any thirst.
It is not the jar she has for you,
or for me, but for herself.
For the questions caught
on her dry tongue.
In her silence, the blue woman stands,
waiting an hour, before passing
a hand under her shirt,
beside her breast.
A hand that removes the rib
she never wanted.
The blue woman holds the rib out to you.
Your hand never rises to meet hers,
is not there when she releases the rib
and it clatters to stony ground.
But to prove her love for you,
she offers you the jar
that holds the river.
“Shedding Centuries” was first published in the Adirondack Review
Read and listen to more of Kenneth Gurney's Poetry at http://web.mac.com/kpgurney/iWeb/10PP/Home.html
Read Origami Condom, a new poetry Web site produced and designed by Kenneth Gurney at http://www.origamicondom.org