.
[ 3, no, 4 poems by J. R. Solonche ]
.
At the Reflecting Pool
.
One (there are many
gathered now in the closing minutes
before the play’s beginning) pretends
.
to jump in, mugging for his companions,
as so many have done,
as so many will do.
.
“It lacks an emotional center,
a focus, a heart.” (But this will be later,
on the steps inside, coming down,
.
the hand brushing the brass banister.)
None mistake it for the sky,
as none mistake the secret pool of their desire
.
for a loop in time, as none
mistake themselves for others,
as none mistake more of the same for more room,
.
as none mistake life’s rules
for the lures of explanation or life’s raw deals
for the leadenware on the tables of their hearts.
.
J. R. Solonche
from In a Public Place, Dos Madres Press, Loveland, OH; © 2019
.
❀ ❀ ❀
.
Saturday
.
On the street in town,
everyone is carrying something,
everyone’s arms are full.
.
This old man is carrying
fifty years of newspapers.
Each year is a bundle tied in string.
.
His back is bent from the weight.
This wife is carrying her past.
It is made of glass. It is extremely fragile.
.
She carries it in a velvet pouch
inside a wooden box inside a metal case
inside a leather satchel with two straps.
.
The husband is carrying Monday.
He holds it like a dozen roses.
He holds it like the wheel of a fast car.
.
This teenaged boy is carrying three futures.
They are light as feathers, as bubbles.
He tosses them up before him as he walks.
.
This old woman is carrying death.
She holds it in her arms like a newborn.
She is singing it a lullaby under her breath.
.
I am carrying myself on a tray.
I am a waiter delivering the meal.
Arrogant and aloof, I balance myself
.
on my right hand, over the heads
of the others. My left arm swings freely.
It clears my way to your table.
.
J. R. Solonche
from In a Public Place, Dos Madres Press, Loveland, OH; © 2019
.
❀ ❀ ❀
.
America
.
I am sitting on a bench in front of the Department of Justice,
thinking, under the massive magnolia tree,
of the meaning of justice, when the sharp,
metallic smell of the homeless man
across the avenue mingles with the aroma of the blossoms.
Such a strange perfume.
Let us call it America.
.
J. R. Solonche
from In a Public Place, Dos Madres Press, Loveland, OH; © 2019
.
❀ ❀ ❀
.
Zhao Li realizes that he has been writing poems for so long a flower is not a flower anymore, a bird is not a bird anymore, a cloud is not a cloud anymore. A flower has become a poem, a bird has become a poem, a cloud has become a poem. He is very sad about this. He also realizes that Zhao Li is not Zhao Li anymore, for Zhao Li has become a poem, so he sheds a tear for the flower, he sheds a tear for the bird, he sheds a tear for the cloud, but he does not shed a tear for himself, for he has always wanted to be a poem, even if it is one written by himself.
.
J. R. Solonche
from The Lost Notebook of Zhao Li, Dos Madres Press, Loveland OH; © 2022
.
.
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
.
Carnegie Hall. Poe Cottage. A parking lot. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. West 64th Street. Washington Square. A mall. Some hotel lobby. Planetarium. Botanical Garden. Shoprite. The Brooklyn Bridge. Panera. Starbucks. The Department of Justice. The Vietnam War Memorial. Public places all. As perfect a place for writing a poem as the garret overlooking Montmartre, the round tower of the medieval castle on the Irish Coast, any prison cell anywhere. The poems are not about the place but are in the place. The places are in the poems. The moments in the places are in the poems, those moments spent walking, reading, observing, thinking, all while in a public place. And then each poem brings the poet’s mind into a public place where we readers can be in the moment with him.
.
When I sit on my porch and read poems by J. R. Solonche, do I really begin to notice bug song in greater clarity, a brighter spectrum of sun dapple on the leaves? Or do I only imagine that I do? Wait, are you going to try to tell me that imagining something doesn’t make it so?
.
❀
.
Both In a Public Place and The Lost Notebook of Zhao Li, as well as six other books by J. R. Solonche, are published by Dos Madres Press in Ohio, which notes that the small press is essential to the vitality of contemporary literature, and which is dedicated to the creation of fine books pleasing to the eye and hand.
.
You might consider spending a moment with Dos Madres at
.
You are also welcome to consider these other poems by J. R. Solonche at Verse and Image:
.
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
.
Thank you for visiting Verse and Image:
. . . . . every Friday I present one or more poems I’ve read this week that particularly speak to me;
. . . . . some Saturdays I present one or two poems submitted by YOU, my readers.
.
If you would like to offer a poem for consideration, either by a favorite author or your own work, please view these GUIDELINES for Saturday Readers Share:
.
.
If you would like to receive an email each time a post appears, please SUBSCRIBE to Verse and Image using the button on the Home Page.
.
If you have a hard time finding the SUBSCRIBE button on this WordPress site, you can send me your email address and I will add you to the subscriber list. Send your request to
.
COMMENTS@GRIFFINPOETRY.COM
.
Thanks again for joining the conversation.
.
– Bill
.
.
V E R S E and I M A G E 
[…] Submit […]