Three Poems by Charlie Rose

ZanysBones

De morituris nihil nisi.
Searching for Zany’s bones
among the elegies of Beckett –
for elegies is what they are, after all,
I find only
the black firmament of Artemesium,
bronze which has taken
as its cloak
the satellite traced silk of night.

Adieu selvaggio,
adieu ocelot asteroid, adieu jardin de la fée verte,
adieu ragged claws.
Every fable has a moral,
and if you visit the house
of second thoughts
you will find me there
pouring myself
over a virgin cube of sugar,
adding one more entry
to the comprehensive list
of solitary animals.

Was that not, after all, Socrates’ dream?
A day and a life
before the ice finally freezes for good
on the coldest night of the year.

Kildare

I saw a picture of a country
 cut off from any color
 - Ahmed Badr 

 The world is complete
 books demand limits
 - Barrett Watten 

 Only the compass, keeping hope alive
 stuttered on
-

 In Kildare, she baked with soda
 the broad hem of a winter cloud
 suffused the choppy bay
 with the grizzled flour of 
 glowering north east exposure.
 I laid stone by stone
 fitting each piece
 until winter became
 a warmth that set us apart.
 Each fact was a shrill bird
 in the cornice above ornamental brick.
 Set it down now,
 the pitcher gurgling with milk
 fresh from the brown jersey
 who turned to stare with eyes so startled
 at the new dairy maid.
 When I speak, I speak with the voice
 of a stranger to my times.
 the window is just a tiny crumb.
 If only it were more than a lozenge,
 a silence of color
 an octave of the sintering wind.

About the author

Charlie Rose lives in the Boston area and has featured at Stone Soup and read on the open mic at the Cantab lounge. He has poems published by Amethyst and Arsenic online journal, and he has participated in the Brighton Word Factory writing group and the DIY MFA. He has also written a steam punk epic poem called Coin of the Realm.

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