the poetry knook, the poetry of stephen m. james

Poems with the tag ‘night_sky’

Blue and gray battle tunes

Blue and gray battle on line, on screen,
battles of bands, lines after lines sing-
a-long shuffling in anything but civil sighs,
fat lady’s tongue’s been pulled by Gitmo guys,
water / smorgas / boarding / ear popping/budding / flying today
alone in the night sky, all the Stars’ songs on display
cloud the view of divine ear-piecing silence.
yes, eat! the Apple, the pod, the seed, the Tree, since
Steve sounds like Eve to man in a hormonal haze,
yes, the Tree of Knowledge speaks lectures on history,
converses in college-ese, can be a cantata in box beige,
“chicken in every pot,” eternal cacophonous symphony.


An unlit firecracker decomposing in an underwear drawer

fire spells relief
shimmering in the night sky–
if I’d just eat or kiss or maybe even belong
I
‘d be happy.
running from entertainment every Friday,
opportunities to bless, to leave Jesus behind
treading where I’ve tread before,
yes, circular””but not waiting for you to depress
I
t r a n s v e r s e a translucent chord:
the roommate invites to talk with the room-less in smoky bars,
the friend invites to watch the movie about camaraderie,
alone, hugging myself with artistry
desperate to produce
a great life
I
write.


No help wanted

“No Help Wanted”
posted on the main vein
punctured like the night sky.
Can’t understand me
for you had a cause– back then,
so you told me when
I was thirteen
unaware you believe you are aware,
because you are not.
Crying, torturing myself–
you won’t help;
I’ll never let you.


Stas and Effect

Part I
sloshing through leaves
leading to darkness unknown, away from the lights of town,
beyond stoplights cautioning us we enter into the natural lights,
so hot yet so far away.
catching ourselves sharing moonlit glances
unraveling the stories that have made us — attract,
weighing you and me and school and God?
I mean?God and school and you and me.
disappointed with our hour’s return we return to town
kicking sticks and crossing streets.
maybe, if we add more night to our day,
we will add more light to our night.

Part II
sparkling gem–beset in cotton and denim
I am the meticulous jewel thief?
listen to the tick of the safe?
gradually I reach in to kiss and hold my plunder
protected by laser beams, I beg the precious gem to fall into my open hand.
waiting for her. . . she does.
what now? do I run into this night around us
holding my prize in my bouncing breast pocket?
for my heart pounds with intensity.

Part III
my bent hand brushes your cheek
softly, I paint solace and belonging in your mind.
I do not see your face but know
your vision fades and eyelids fail,
as you nuzzle into my neck
and I hold you, tenderly, under our own night sky.



© 1993-2024 by Stephen M. James.