Two poems by Kenneth Gurney
Twenty-Nine July Two Thousand and ...
The nail-biting waitress
frets about how to sew
back together
the torn hem of the clouds.
She forgets to pour the coffee,
but the compassionate rain
fills, with french roast, the cups
of all the patio patrons.
The trucker isn’t impressed
with parlor tricks, involuntarily
flexes his muscles, sends
a thousand ships sailing toward Troy.
But the stripper, still up from last night,
hears the disjointed voices
of angels gathering, warming up
for choir practice or Carnegie Hall.
And the Yankees hat philosopher
licks his lips in anticipation
of the exact moment of Rapture
being very close at hand,
so he gets up and leaves
without paying his tab,
unaware of the fact Saint Martha
presides at heaven’s gate today.
Naming Names
The horses I know
do not call themselves Horse
or worry about their soul.
Arriving from the far pasture,
I approach the universe
with the idea of learning names,
instead of giving them –
haven’t quite forgiven the Bible
for the cruel task it placed upon us.
Mary isn’t Mary, meaning bitter.
She wasn’t ever. She is Joni:
outgoing, fun loving.
There was a time
when children reached puberty
that there would be a ceremony
and a new name placed upon them
by someone intimate with their
history of deeds.
Examine your life
and tell me what your name is,
not that label placed upon you
within hours of your birth.
And if you feel
a need for change,
I will host a party,
a celebration,
a ceremony
and commemoration
of what you know
you should be called
for a time ahead.
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