Callie Carroll

Callie Carroll Poems

</></>Photo 1
Baby sits
with diapered bottom
against gritty linoleum

I move through my day
dully from point to point,
Straight and efficient
Up the stairs and down, but

At our first meeting, you had physical substance,
solid and weighty.
I made note of your presence, -
hooked nose, widow's hump, and your kind, but discerning eye.

I spin a new web every night-
repair and replace the damaged parts.
My eyes (too many of them)
watch from different angles.

What a maestro!
(What a dimwit!)

What didn't I get about my depreciation?

bland white bread
for the round tang of basil

Forgive me if I stare
at the fatted calf, the ring, the shoes,
the robe, ...... the empty chair.
You're not there, you're never there.

You returned from the North with good news-
Little Thomas, little John, found-
in the sheltering arms of Protestant parents,
orphans of the Boyne.

The stark white of a sycamore
glints in the dappled forest.
A towhee rings clearly in the distance.
A trio of deer stare across the glen.

In my mind again-
a tanned Tarzan
inching his way to the top
Rope in hand, taut hum of sinew,

You go about the business of your life
Gulping great gusts of air
Emitting an exquisite light,
Lovely luminary.

Arms tucked, legs askew,
You practice until you get it right.
With each crack of your skin against water
comes satisfaction, then delight.

You lie on warm pavement transfixed
Eyes down, end up,
you bridge the distance.
A drifting glint of gossamer

Freckled arms
long and lean
soft and supple
Wiping crumbs from messy tables,

(5 Day Old Anthony Attends a 60th Anniversary Party)

Light increases
as he enters the room

Why do I remember most
my grandfather who hardly
spoke a word to me unless

I knowed we shouldn't of went that way.
That trail weren't meant for no VW Bug.
But I didn't stop you, didn't even try.
Now muddy ole me's in a worrisome rut

Your arm
an angry intaglio
Your secret

You woke us
from our sleep-warm dreams
to lie close
on cold concrete

I have decided to doubt. I am
unable to accept belief on
the value of its good, clean face.

Callie Carroll Biography

PH is what I do because I can't talk basketball with my neighbors. It is nice to know there are thousands of people out there reading and writing and thinking about poetry. At least I hope it is not just one person sitting at a keyboard making all of this up.)

The Best Poem Of Callie Carroll

4 Photos In A Drawer (Not Forgotten)

</></>Photo 1
Baby sits
with diapered bottom
against gritty linoleum
Beauty (above baby)
framed in gilded sunlight
Glossy hair caresses Beauty's face
Baby basks in mamma's halcyon glow
She doesn't know
the beginning of her sorrow.

Photo 2
Siblings sit
on an ugly, velvet couch-
Almond eyes and forehead frizz
evidence of a kinship
they will not know
Their eyes dart in different directions
The crack down the middle
separates them permanently.

Photo 3
Beauty perched
on a rock
Framed by a loveliness
that does not surpass her own
Her smile beckons and bewitches
Beauty doesn't see their sorrow
She's happily alone.

Photo 4
An early morning photo
Mangled limbs on
a tangled bed
Alone, alone, and, oh so cold
No beauty here-
Just a splash of amber liquid
and a careless spill of pills
It's not the end of their sorrow.

Callie Carroll Comments

Sudheer Khwobi 22 November 2009

thx from nepal and also by mine. ur poem is more effective than mine. that picture is very close to reality of our country. thanks dear strange friend

2 0 Reply
Jerry Hughes 02 August 2009

Absolutely agree with the comments of Ivan Carswell, Callie is an exceptionally fine writer. Best wishes, Jerry

2 0 Reply
Ivan Donn Carswell 27 April 2008

In the few offerings Callie Carroll has posted here to date one glimpses a rare lyrical ability. The delicacy of subject-word relationship is exquisite, the imagery cogent, syntax poignant and powerful. A poet for future visits for sure! Rgds, Ivan

2 0 Reply
Grant Nealy 09 April 2008

I enjoyed reading your entries, you should post more of them.

2 0 Reply

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