Sunday, 27 June 2021

Three Wonderful Poems by Tobi Alfier

 



In Time We Come to Be Whole

 

I

 

The sadness of the street of lonely women

mortgaged, monotonous, the treadmill of the pedestrian day

like a graceful bridge held up by harp strings

they are the embodiment of part music and part steel

 

Mortgaged, monotonous, the treadmill of the pedestrian day

they measure the progress of each cycle in baby steps

they are the embodiment of part music and part steel

with effort they tune the instrument of living

 

They measure the progress of each cycle in baby steps

like a graceful bridge held up by harp strings

with effort they tune the instrument of living

the sadness of the street of lonely women.

 

                                    II

 

I am the imposter who stands on the hill

I survey the scenery, roads rocky with grief

ink spotted sidewalks and trees half dwarfed

I pretend to be whole while the empty side faces away

 

I survey the scenery, roads rocky with grief

bargain a kiss or two from the carnival barkers

I pretend to be whole while the empty side faces away

what a farce and I am the principal player

 

Bargain a kiss or two (or nine) from the carnival barkers

ink spotted sidewalks and trees half dwarfed

what a farce and I am the principal player

I am the imposter who stands on the hill.

 

                                    III

 

The reverence of the street of lonely women

living half the wondrous aria of the every day

bursting pomegranate seeds joyfully on their tongues

they are the embodiment of part music and part steel

 

Living half the wondrous aria of the every day

they measure the progress of each cycle in baby steps

they are the embodiment of part music and part steel

with tears and laughter they tune the instrument of living

 

They measure the progress of each cycle in baby steps

bursting pomegranate seeds joyfully on their tongues

with tears and laughter they tune the instrument of living

the reverence of the street of lonely women.



He Is a Lucky Man

 

She feeds him caviar on the porch swing

fanning the breeze with hats and wilted airs

rumors of samba on the radio

wondering if this will be their last time.

 

Her sweetness like the fullest pears in spring

her smile the homing device for moonbeams

like cloudbursts plinking on an old tin roof

sorrow dances lightly on her shadow.

 

Nevertheless

 

His feet tap along on the weathered wood

with closed eyes they think back to Havana

another porch, those feelings of just right

he is a lucky man and he knows it.



Thief

 

He navigates the darkened hall

locking himself in the room

where she makes herself beautiful

each day.  He lifts a tissue tossed away,

bringing the kiss of Summer Peach

to his lips, he closes his eyes.

 

Jasmine and vanilla powders, perfumes

from trysts with other men he

wants to know it all.  He is shamed,

inflamed, a violator.

Reading the journal

tucked under her intimates would  be

less personal.

 

Rancid and unapologetic

he slurks to the front room to join the others.

Sipping his Bordeaux his free hand taps

against his pocket, drumming the small

opalescent globe that is the essence of her.

 

He lifts his eyebrow in silent signal to his wife.

She gets her coat.

He has another appointment to attend to.


Tobi Alfier is a multiple Pushcart nominee and multiple Best of the Net nominee.  “Symmetry: earth and sky” was published by Main Street Rag. Her chapbook “Grit & Grace” was published by Orchard Street Press (March, 2021). She is co-editor of San Pedro River Review (www.bluehorsepress.com).





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