Poems

Monument to Self

Put a pyramid on me when I’m gone
for my life has been,
at best, 
pointless
and the other monuments
lack hubris.
Or better,
choose a marble 
Rubik cube
for many found me
a problem to be solved.
Or best,
a wheel within a wheel,
not for Ezekiel,
but the windmills
of my mind.*


*Borrowed line from song title by Alan and Marilyn Bergman “The Windmills of Your Mind”

Poem's author credit:: 
copyright Bill Kemp, 2017
Local cemetery

Jetlag and Cat

Out of a leave it to Beaver dream
my half-sized self
holding mom’s hand
through a vast airport 
to see father off
in 1960s style
waving at the gate
while propellors rotate
I remember the
graceful turning
three tailed constellation.

I AM DISTURBED,
by the cat
walking on ribs
nosing at cheek
staring into my eye
to see if I am in.

But, where I am
is with mom,
having flown to take
her hand.
And returned
through cramped Midway
and the TSA.

Poem's author credit:: 
copyright Bill Kemp, 2017
TWA Constellation for business travelers like my father

The Hunt

The pelicans come in military precision
a trio low
flat
as high as a three meter dive
as silent as angels
uninterrupted, eternal
youthful, insatiable

Nearer to my state
an older gentleman of their kind
unruffled watches
unwilling
un-hungry
not needing to join this hunt

Poem's author credit:: 
copyright Bill Kemp, 2017
Aged pelican from Pittsburgh National Aviary

Whole Life Project

I have discovered that

Patience and humility are interlaced.

The tapestry of a weaver’s shuttle,

Strand by strand,

Life is a thread of attention

Rhythmically tossed, back and forth,

Until relationships emerge in focus.

Poem's author credit:: 
copyright Bill Kemp, 2013
beauty and truth meet when you hold a child

Missing the Shrimp

I pulled a Houdini

Turning left before the table of cheese curls

pepsi, and dip,

and dipping beneath the wattled arm

of someone’s great aunt...

Poem's author credit:: 
copyright Bill Kemp, 2013
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