Monday 9 September 2024

Five Poems by Robert Witmer

 




Character Is Fate

 

“The only joy in the world is to begin.”

— Cesare Pavese


 

a bald tire

on a patch of ice

the world turns


 

a dry martini

civilization

and its discontents


 

jobless men

drifting in a void

storm clouds


 

refugees

boxed in and labelled

to expedite shipping


 

newspaper horrors

in a discarded drum

matches soaked with rain


 

rosebush

a raindrop on each

thorn


 

a horse’s tail

shoos away the flies

climate change


 

a juicy hamburger

in a mushy bun

cable news


 

gone fishing

the conspiracist

opens another can of worms


 

smiles

at the rally

shining like knives


 

hungry for power

the autocrat repeals

a banana


 

war

a fistful of ashes

in a game of dice


 

dark waters

embrace a dead moon

peace talks


 

after the accident

the brothers reconcile

cane and able


 

birds fly

from an empty well

the sky’s indifferent blue


 

skylight

in the penthouse

so far beneath the stars


 

life after death

the hidden truth

maggots




That Sweet Smelling Aftershave

 

I watch the barber

raise his straight razor

and the books fall from the shelves

and the glasses from the cabinet

and the earthquake siren blares

and I wonder which movie is real

or whether it is just

another close shave

 

 

 

The Heron

 

In wet sand

the heron leaves

for a moment

her footprints

the graceful movements

of her beak

and her long white neck

compose a poem in air

that erases itself

with each gesture

of morning light




Seal of Approval

 

She fans herself with a trowel she found in the basement of an old house that once belonged to Edgar Allan Poe – or so she says. I can’t really trust her, but she pays the bills, and I am just about finished with my novel. A surprise ending, a couple of edits here and there, and then I can go back to the wax museum, where they keep a candle burning in the window. I will be famous then. And once the cement dries, so will she.

 

 

 

An Odyssey

 

Here I am on a Greek island 3000 years ago. I have no idea what happened, but there sure are a lot of good-looking ladies here. The problem is they all sound like they’re on their way to a fire. But they seem to like me. Just yesterday I was Nobody and now I’m Rudolph Valentino. They keep telling me to take the wax out of my ears and relax. My horse came in and I’m set for life. But something’s just not right. I’ve seen this movie before, and I know the best thing to do is to concentrate on my navel and hum. Sometimes it takes a while – but before I know it my clarion call girls are back, insisting that I tell them all about the latest hits.










Robert Witmer has lived in Japan for the past 45 years. Now an emeritus professor, he has had the opportunity to teach courses in poetry and creative writing not only at his home university in Tokyo but also in India. His poems and prose poetry have appeared in many print and online journals and books. His first book of poetry, a collection of haiku titled Finding a Way, was published in 2016. A second book of poetry, titled Serendipity, was published earlier this year (2023).



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