Paul Kesler Poems

Hit Title Date Added
1.
To Trilby

The sky is a greater musician than I:
the rains plays pizzicato on the rooftops
with no sign of fatigue;
clouds hit every note I miss
...

2.
Abtei Im Eichwald (For Caspar David Friedrich)

Branching,
the roots of agony
climb to the heavens;
the broken husk
...

3.
Ode To Louise (1906-1985)

Sleek needle
stabbing convivial space -
black music flows from the tossed face,
shoulders
...

4.
E.T.A. Hoffmann Muses On His Mistresses

I take love lightly, but I'll vouch to thee:
A bow-legged mannequin can't interest me.

I take love lightly, but for true romance,
...

5.
Hand Of Glory

Corpse-candle,
fleshly calyx forged in sorcery,
glows as the torpid body
sleeps on a tousled bed.
...

6.
The Glassblower's Legacy

When the glassblower died, his house remained. No one bought it, for it stood in a part of town for which no one had much use. Seasons made their rounds, and his home was delivered to its former population of slaves. These creatures, mere envelopes of glass, coiled through the gathering weeds - - reflections of themselves scribbled the walls when the sun passed overhead.

Within, the sculptured 'self-portrait' of the artist glared through a window, peering from the midst of creation. A swirling stream of glass spun from its open mouth, a sort of umbilical cord that joined to a female form nearby. This, a visitor might presume, was the fused inamorata the master never had, or a replica of a wife no one had seen. Further back in the room, glass children sat, but only half-formed, their hands fondling delicate implements. Were they lounging, merely waiting for some private amusement to commence? Or were they bored with the prospect of a life that would never begin, in a limbo of vitreous stolidity?
...

7.
The Funnel

Not all funnels hold water
or slide vertically over the landscape
with an explosion of soil and debris;
Some funnels stay where they're put
...

Whose web this is I think I know.
The spider’s on a pillage though;
He will not see me frozen here
Until the time seems apropos.
...

9.
Directions To The Country Club

Hope you got a card, bud, 'cause they won't let you in without a card. Truth is, not many go there by road these days. You should have a plane. Well...

See that fork up yonder a couple hundred yards? Hook left. That turns to a dirt road - - the grass gets higher as you go, wanders like crazy. You might be OK a few miles, but it turns damn weedy after that, and then the bushes start. Right in the middle of the road, bud, and there ain't no way you can drive through. You'll have to hike it.
...

10.
The Medium And The Ventriloquist

When a medium dies,
his spirit may float to different spheres,
animate, inanimate,
beyond his meager reckoning.
...

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