5 Poems from Lee Stern

5 poems from Lee Stern in Los Angeles.

I DROPPED THE BALL

I have to admit that I dropped the ball
and I feel bad for having done it.
Everybody else carried the ball to where it should have gone.
What was my problem?
Wasn’t I strong enough to hold onto it?
Did I think that the world had made excuses for my behaviour?
Or did I think that you were just going to be there, ready to pick it up,
a volunteer or sorts who could be expected to show up like that
and to be eager to bail me out of what I could no longer stand?
I dropped the ball and that was the end of it.
If the referee had seen me, I don’t know what he would have said.
If the people in the stands had seen me,
there would have been double
the makings of the base of a bell that could have been delivered
coupled to a world they could kick.

THE LOSSES

What I remember are the losses that were given to me
after they had been scrutinized for their furious depth.
What I remember is the way I tried to look at them
first by holding my hands in front of my face
and then by sinking to my knees
and pretending that everyone else was striking out
for a new territory that I wouldn’t be able to name.
What I remember are the losses that should have had ribbons on them
or maybe little bells that I was able to tune
when I came back from a long needed vacation;
when I came back from seeking justice for the people
into whose eyes I peered at the push of my lightning
and at the plebeian cost of the metal I named
for the discrepancy- of the ages that died in my heart.

SING FOR ME

I’ll let you sing for me,
if you let me move my house into your piano.
Otherwise, I’m simply going to have to consider the alternatives.
And while I’m doing that, by the way,
I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t spit on the sheet music.
I’ll let you sing for me until it’s about three o’clock in the afternoon-
but you have to promise me that something isn’t right.
If a little marionette chooses to intrude,
make sure that she knows all the steps.
Or make sure that he knows all the steps.
Because afterwards- and I really do mean afterwards this time-
we can try to figure out if the pith in the soul of their simple voices held firm.
Or ground dirt to a field made of wood.

THE SIZE OF CHICAGO

If there’s something over here the size of Chicago,
do we ask if it got lost?
Or do we say, "What did you do with my slippers?
I never gave you the permission to leave."
And that’s about all it boils down to.
And at this point, I want to be very sure that you understand that.
If something way over here is the size of Chicago,
remember, you don’t want to start running around in circles.
You don’t want to drop your pants on the floor either,
because there won’t be anybody to pick them up.
You just want to be able to determine what you did with your casual viewpoint;
and, if you were lying to me that something did get lost,
what you did with my slippers when I carved them into the ocean for you
with the permission you gave me to stay.

I HAVE REPEATEDLY

I have repeatedly tried to come to your assistance.
I was there when the sun stood still.
And when the ocean broke open a path that we never chose to see.
I was there when the criminals were recruited
and after breakfast was over pointed in your direction.
And I was even at your side when the dogs came in.
And went to all of that trouble of showing you how to stand.
But the predicament that you’re in now is of an entirely different dimension.
And what little assistance I can offer has been calibrated by the working man.
Let us see where the working man is leading us.
Let us come to his assistance,
holding onto the pillow that we never expected to find.
Let us move the sun a little bit.
Make room for a star that would fly.

Bio for Lee Stern
"I want to go to Australia before I die and see the kangaroos. I swear to God. I’ve never seen a kangaroo and I want to see one before I die. And I don’t think that’s asking too much. And if anybody has any objections, I really don’t care. Because I’m a simple person and I don’t like to make demands. I’m merely stating my preference. If they’d bring the kangaroos to where I am, for sure that’d be a lot easier. But I don’t think that’s going to work out in the near term. Where would I put them? On my front lawn? I have a chair on my front lawn where I sit and feed the pigeons. How is that going to work out? Try to take these things into consideration. Life is short. You have to follow a plan. And do they have boats that go to Australia? Sign me up for one of them right away. Please. I don’t want to have to fly back with the kangaroo sitting next to me, smearing his finger paints all over my coat. And stealing what’s left of my snack."

Four Photos by Lee Sandwith.

"Lee Sandwith is a Melbourne based actress and photographer. Along with having a number of professional film, television and theatre performance credits to her name, Lee has directed a number of music videos, theatre and short film productions as well having work in production on a number of feature films and television programs. In 2008, Lee shot a photographic portrait series of refugee youth that was exhibited in Melbourne and she has recently had a number of photographs published in Platform magazine.Lee is currently working on a number of photographic projects with a focus on inner city dwellings as well as a study on modern self portrait culture and the human ego."

Lee's Flickr

Lee's Gallery Site 'And Next Came Me'

ENJOY!

3 Poems by Santiago del Dardano Turann.

ORCHIDS IN THE SAN FRANCISCO CONSERVATORY OF FLOWERS

 

The orchids do not primp nor do they fad

With translucent sunlight's creamy glare

That streams down from the ceiling to bombard

Them in the sauna of the humid air.

 

Beyond indifferent to their vibrant colours

They are a void to feeling and to thought

Or a sense of their own tropic splendours

Which Nature for gross practicality wrought. 

 

It’s only man who can respond to beauty

And see in inert matter its potential.

But is this simply our brain’s chemistry

Or another quality that’s external?

 

Perhaps it’s both in some unknown construction.

The orchids would be beautiful if they

Were growing deep inside the jungle hidden

Where no man had ever come their way.

 

THE GREAT PIRATE AGE

 

The skull-and-crossbones never flew as high

As now that it's become a shirt and tie

With limousines instead of gallon fleets

In pirate coves along both Wall and K Streets. 

 

The cannon ball and cutlass made of metal

Just lack the deadly power of their digital

New weapons for a new age when the booty

Is the treasuries of each client country. 

 

But for each captain prowling on the ocean

Of politics these days there are a million

More petty pirates plotting paltry schemes

To capture narrow and short-sighted dreams

 

From sea washed decks of middle-management

Where with  smart meters some sharpen pension tridents

And everything is crafted as a trick

For some different way to loot the public. 

BETWEEN US

 

The words that pass between us skip behind

Their masks and hide the sliding verbs who blush

To touch the thawing sounds’ unfolding petals

On passing smiles where silence links our secret.

 

A harmony winds through the subtle mix

As counterpoint evolving into chords

With each and every note upon the scale

We play behind our eyes with our own heartbeats.

 

I sculpt your image from my thoughts and paint

The figure with desires’ primary colours

In balanced tones of memory and hope

Smooth as your skin beneath the dawn’s first touch

 

To set in my imagination’s woods.

But all this artwork’s only just the heat

Between us rising into golden clouds

I gather to spin these iambic verses.

"There is very little to tell of my biography outside the basic facts.  I was born in April of 1968 in Cincinnati, Ohio, and grew-up in rural Butler county.  After a period of wandering I finally settled in San Francisco, California.  I do not have a college degree and have worked blue collar or retail jobs my whole adult life.  I only began to write poetry in 2006."