Doug Stanfield
Doug Stanfield Poems
I'm nearly old, she said… to no one,
Before the mirror,
Tracing a line down her cheek
With a fingertip,
...
I want you to move in slowly,
To pin me
With hot and deep desire.
Wrap me in liquid fire.
...
I woke up this morning from a dreamy grey half-sleep
with the February rain dripping off the eaves.
A memory floated by that in a previous life
I was a horse. No question.
...
Einstein lit a cigarette
and watched the violet and pastel afterglow
of the first bomb
fade over the desert, inhaled
...
I asked for the superpower of 'Folding' for my birthday.
It cuts out the middle man:
Just give me a calendar with tricky bits.
I'd fold weeks, months, years, centuries together,
...
The rider and horse moved onto the narrow path into the wilderness, to Cloud Peak,
In the mountains of the Big Horn sheep, to where the Old Ones hold council.
Her hooves were sure- More sure than his heart. This
She sensed, so the big brown mare gave him loan of hers.
...
Doug Stanfield Biography
" Hemmingplay" spent his early life as a child, later working as an investigator, and then as a reporter and editor at two newspapers. He retired from a university’s communications unit IT office. Earlier jobs included construction, teaching, and a couple of small businesses. His desire to write fiction and poetry never really went away. When the kids were safely off making their own mistakes, he returned to writing poetry and fiction.)
The Best Poem Of Doug Stanfield
All Is Temporary
I'm nearly old, she said… to no one,
Before the mirror,
Tracing a line down her cheek
With a fingertip,
Lost in memory.
She sighs.
A chill; her soul shivers.
This is the face that boys
Longed to kiss, she remembers,
Remembering the power of it.
Yet now the boys are men, although not as many.
The face that felt the chubby caress of
Her children's hands,
The face she could depend upon.
A breeze ruffles the curtains,
Touches the flower beside the mirror.
Her eye caresses the exquisite
Design of it,
Built for
A moment
Of perfect purpose.
"You are nearly old, too, " she says, tracing the line of the
Petal with her finger.
She smiles, newly aware…
All things must pass.
All things are temporary.
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5/7/2024 9:47:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Doug, writing under the poetic pen name Hemmingplay, spent his early life as a child. He later worked as a fraud investigator, and then as a reporter and editor at two newspapers. He retired from a university’s communications unit IT office in 2015. Earlier jobs included construction, teaching, and a couple of small businesses. His desire to write fiction and poetry never really went away. When the kids were safely off making their own mistakes, he returned to writing poetry and fiction.