Author Archives: neil_2015_wordpress@neilmeili.com

SITTING AT THE FEET OF MAYA ANGELOU

Poems about Poetry / / by

SITTING AT THE FEET OF MAYA ANGELOU

Gandhi is gone

Gautama is gone

Jesus and Mohammed so long ground
into true believer’s meat
I wouldn’t know them on the street

And Socrates and Plato would speak in Greek

But, right here and right now
so close we almost touch

I bask and revel
in purest presence
and direct transmission
from this poetic patron saint

Will my life and poems change?

This is a woman
who for years did not speak
because her words could kill a man
and now speaks words that can save him

Will my life and poems change?

HEADINGS

Uncategorized / / by

HEADINGS

Hamlet was only mad north-northwest

My father
who also mostly knew
a hawk from a hacksaw
had him beat by a few degrees

Which you could quickly learn
by questioning his direction
at any point of the compass

Struck by a stroke
on the day he retired
he was never the same again

The left side of his brain
holds logic math and anger
all other emotions on the right

The man became a gentle artist
if he could have lined up lines
he might have been a poet

GOOD FENCES MAKE GOOD MEMORIES

Nostalgia / tagged , , / / by

GOOD FENCES MAKE GOOD MEMORIES

Slow driving west
down Saskatchewan 363

Paved now
but mud and gravel
fifty years ago when dad
came over from the home place
to help me build fourteen miles of fence

Half a mile from the old Fort Walsh trail
where the Mounties hauled supplies
for a starving Sitting Bull

A lot of history
and a damn good fence
still standing, still stretching
like time, and our time together

Smooth and endless
over the soft rolling hills

From this distance you can’t see
the barbs in the wire

IMMORTALITY

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IMMORTALITY

If a leaf should fall
on your perfect wet cement

Do not reach for the trowel
to dig it out and smooth it over

Lift it carefully

Leave its jagged print
along with finger and thumb
on each side of the winding stem

There will be no need to impress
with your initials, or the date

GIVE ME THAT OLD RHYME RELIGION

Poems about Poetry / tagged / / by

GIVE ME THAT OLD RHYME RELIGION
(Happy 400th bible birthday)

The King James Bible is filled with poetry
everything since seems reduced to prose
why they did it – God only knows

From pulpits we hear more hate of late
– and politics and damnation
– and I sure miss the celebration

The Song of David is supposed to be a song
taking away the music just seems wrong

As for me, in the valley of the shadow
I want to be able to sing
and to feel God singing along

And if after the seventh trumpet note
we find that the big He or She
is an accountant – not a poet
we’re in a lot of trouble – you and me