Wistful
Sad, but not tearful.
Down, but not suicidal.
The general feeling I'm
Overcome with today.
Immersed in thought,
Uncertain of the days to come.
The warmth of bygone days
Is disappearing.
It is during this time that
An old man approaches.
As he passes through, the ancient one
Brings gentle bumps on my skin,
Penetrates my very bones with the icy chill
He leaves behind.
Steady downpours are sure to follow
This aged stranger's passage when
Everything is already dead.
Leaves on trees,
A memory now, tailor-made for postcards.
As that old man continues to saunter by
Deliberate & slow,
I fear the future,
My future,
And it doesn't look bright.
Sad, but not tearful.
Down, but not suicidal.
Just downright wistful.
W: Day Of The Dead 2007
Merciful Release
i agree with the leaves
When they decide
To free themselves
From trees' boughs, strong,
From bushes' spindly branches, weak-looking.
By letting go of boughs and branches,
They're letting go of life.
Their colours--yellow, orange, red, brown--
Tell me that they've lived well
And accept their deaths
Throughout Autumn as
A merciful release.
On this,
The fallen leaves and I
Concur.
______________________
W: 11.2.21
[ For Michelle Berberet. ]
[ In response to the poem the lesson of falling leaves by lucille clifton. ]
[ Originally published in the literary magazine third iris #3
and the anthology Lombardi Voices Volume 18, both in Spring 2022. ]
The Sprouting Season
true, this isn't paradise
But it's the only
Paradise on this polluted Earth I'm aware of:
Bitter chill, freezing rainfall
Relents to arriving warmth,
Our feathered neighbours, some breeds,
Return from habitats farther away
Gardens tend to sprout coloured
Soft petal treasures, complimenting soil & grass,
Barren trees clothed
In new, burgeoning leaves and attached
Fruit, developing,
Ripening within their own soft succulence
[ Apples, limes and oranges
Immediately come to mind ]
Out with overcast
Grey sky, dreary and spilling downpour seed,
In with the turning
Everything that grows to jade,
In with romance with the time of beautiful scenery
Reborn, between March and June
The sprouting season.
____________________
W: New Year's Day 2022
[ For Nudi. ]
[ In response to the poem mother tongue by lucille clifton. ]
[ Originally published in the magazine third iris #3 and the
Sweety Cat Press anthology Beautiful, both in Spring 2022
and the Indian literary magazine Pragya Arc in February 7, 2022. ]
Dee Allen. is an African-Italian performance poet based in Oakland, California. Active on creative writing & Spoken Word since the early 1990s. Author of 7 books--Boneyard, Unwritten Law, Stormwater, Skeletal Black [ all from POOR Press ], Elohi Unitsi [ Conviction 2 Change Publishing ] and his 2 newest, Rusty Gallows: Passages Against Hate [ Vagabond Books ] and Plans [ Nomadic Press ]--and 61 anthology appearances under his figurative belt so far. Currently seeking a new publisher to transform his finished manuscript into a finished, printed 8th book.
Sad, but not tearful.
Down, but not suicidal.
The general feeling I'm
Overcome with today.
Immersed in thought,
Uncertain of the days to come.
The warmth of bygone days
Is disappearing.
It is during this time that
An old man approaches.
As he passes through, the ancient one
Brings gentle bumps on my skin,
Penetrates my very bones with the icy chill
He leaves behind.
Steady downpours are sure to follow
This aged stranger's passage when
Everything is already dead.
Leaves on trees,
A memory now, tailor-made for postcards.
As that old man continues to saunter by
Deliberate & slow,
I fear the future,
My future,
And it doesn't look bright.
Sad, but not tearful.
Down, but not suicidal.
Just downright wistful.
W: Day Of The Dead 2007
Merciful Release
i agree with the leaves
When they decide
To free themselves
From trees' boughs, strong,
From bushes' spindly branches, weak-looking.
By letting go of boughs and branches,
They're letting go of life.
Their colours--yellow, orange, red, brown--
Tell me that they've lived well
And accept their deaths
Throughout Autumn as
A merciful release.
On this,
The fallen leaves and I
Concur.
______________________
W: 11.2.21
[ For Michelle Berberet. ]
[ In response to the poem the lesson of falling leaves by lucille clifton. ]
[ Originally published in the literary magazine third iris #3
and the anthology Lombardi Voices Volume 18, both in Spring 2022. ]
The Sprouting Season
true, this isn't paradise
But it's the only
Paradise on this polluted Earth I'm aware of:
Bitter chill, freezing rainfall
Relents to arriving warmth,
Our feathered neighbours, some breeds,
Return from habitats farther away
Gardens tend to sprout coloured
Soft petal treasures, complimenting soil & grass,
Barren trees clothed
In new, burgeoning leaves and attached
Fruit, developing,
Ripening within their own soft succulence
[ Apples, limes and oranges
Immediately come to mind ]
Out with overcast
Grey sky, dreary and spilling downpour seed,
In with the turning
Everything that grows to jade,
In with romance with the time of beautiful scenery
Reborn, between March and June
The sprouting season.
____________________
W: New Year's Day 2022
[ For Nudi. ]
[ In response to the poem mother tongue by lucille clifton. ]
[ Originally published in the magazine third iris #3 and the
Sweety Cat Press anthology Beautiful, both in Spring 2022
and the Indian literary magazine Pragya Arc in February 7, 2022. ]
Dee Allen. is an African-Italian performance poet based in Oakland, California. Active on creative writing & Spoken Word since the early 1990s. Author of 7 books--Boneyard, Unwritten Law, Stormwater, Skeletal Black [ all from POOR Press ], Elohi Unitsi [ Conviction 2 Change Publishing ] and his 2 newest, Rusty Gallows: Passages Against Hate [ Vagabond Books ] and Plans [ Nomadic Press ]--and 61 anthology appearances under his figurative belt so far. Currently seeking a new publisher to transform his finished manuscript into a finished, printed 8th book.