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Best Poems From
LAURENCE OVERMIRE
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73.
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At The North Pole
Theres a lake
Water
Not ice, not nice
To think we
Still refuse
To change the way we
Insist on doing
Business.
(Previously published in Panic! Brixton Poetry, Oct.2000)
Laurence Overmire
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74.
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Atom and Eve
We are the holograms of our
Spiritual selves
Matter but a figment of a
Greater imagination
What is real seeming
Improbable
The substance of who we are
Impossible to hold.
(Previously published in Wired Art from Wired Hearts, July 2002)
Laurence Overmire
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75.
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Aurora Borealis
I looked up
At a black-diamond sky
Crested with stars
And the moon burned gold in the Alaskan night.
And there in the west like a thief in the dark
Crept a shadowy wisp of smoky gray
Barely discernible
Hovering
Waiting
Like a falcon for its prey
Then swift as a serpent it slithered through the air
In a blaze of green-blue light
And it lingered there
Glowing
A strange, ethereal haze
A flash from the east, I turned my head
A flash from the north, I turned again
And the heavens were splashed in shimmering light
Pastel blue ribbons brushed with crimson
In giant arcs did span the clouds
The bold, defiant strokes of an artists hand
Emblazoned on the canvas of the midnight sky.
I looked again
And the air exploded in billowing waves of sulfurous fire
Swirling mist
Diaphanous dust
Cascading color
What vaporous nymphs and spritely fauns
Danced there on the jeweled black
Pouring libations from invisible vials
Their cacophony of light midst the silent stars?
Then the wind blew softly cross the arctic ice
And the goddess of night reclaimed her throne
Her ebony cloak enwrapped the skies
And cast its shadow on the sleeping Earth
Once more.
And I looked within
What awe and wonder
Had I heard with my eyes
And seen with my heart
For everything was nothing
And nothing was everything
But something wasnt anything
As it was
Before.
(Previously published in Pulse, Oct. '99)
Laurence Overmire
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76.
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Auschwitz
The bulldozers plowed the remains
Into a ditch
Dreams crunching into memories
Tumbling over possibilities
Beliefs popping out of sockets
Hopes breaking 'neath the crush of
Soiled humanity
The stench enough to water the eyes of God
Who said nothing
Waiting for someone to be a prayer.
(Previously published in Poets 4 Peace, Nov 2000; Poetry Superhighway, Yom Hashoah Issue #10, Apr 2008)
Laurence Overmire
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