Caroline Misner


Caroline Misner Poems

1. I Witness A Raven 3/21/2008
2. Piano Lesson 3/21/2008
3. Shepherd's Gold 3/21/2008
4. The Old Tin Jug 3/21/2008
5. Trilliums In May 3/21/2008
6. Obituary For A Sphinx 3/21/2008
7. War Wounds 3/21/2008
8. The Medium's Trance 3/21/2008
9. Orleans 3/31/2008
10. The Fly 3/31/2008
11. Turning Infants Into Fawns 3/31/2008
12. When I Die 3/31/2008
13. Sudden Mercury 4/7/2008
14. The New Day Assembly 4/7/2008
15. The Watertower 4/7/2008
16. Hostage 4/21/2008
17. Sea Serpent 4/21/2008
18. Thirty-Two Miles 4/21/2008
19. Please, Love 5/5/2008
20. Lottery 5/5/2008
21. Dog In Moonlight 6/3/2008
22. A Journal Of Forgetting 6/3/2008
23. How To Eat A Grape 7/25/2008
24. Summer Song 7/25/2008
25. Panther Lost 7/25/2008
26. Sonnet #1: Departing 7/25/2008
27. The Vines 9/12/2008
28. Blue Country 9/12/2008
29. Kernsview Park Stones 10/25/2008
30. Indian Summer 10/25/2008
31. Friday Estates 10/25/2008
32. The Old Quarry 10/25/2008
33. Iron And Ice 10/25/2008
34. October Moonrise 10/25/2008
35. Accident 10/25/2008
36. Little Brother 11/8/2008
37. Dunces 11/8/2008
38. Reunion 1/12/2009
39. Untouchable 1/12/2009
40. You Were Mine 1/12/2009
Best Poem of Caroline Misner

To An Alcoholic

I am your enabler.
Here I find my awakening,
a purpose to your dwelling,
juggling excuses like a seasoned acrobat.

You covet these clear bottles,
wicked as diamonds;
I hide them, purposefully
making it difficult to sustain
your habit. I dispense
the dogma of your disease
like lozenges.

But there is no wisdom
to my words;
they fall on you
like scattered pearls while
you sleep, bottle in hand,
and the stink of gin
on your pillow.

There is no salvation
in hell or heaven or all
the places in between.
You live in too ...

Read the full of To An Alcoholic

Piano Lesson

The round notes eat these humble associations,
their clangor rising in off-key mist
like the voices of tired old women in hats
of straw, improbable in their perfection.

The metronome claps its steady thunder
into the sunbeam threaded through lace;
the cuneiform of notes are gouged
like dead black worms upon the page;

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