Solar Oysters Revisited
I was there upon a boat
where ebon skies gave way
to silky strands of solar gas
caressing crystal molecules.
fire fox tails brush
icy mountain fling gold sparks
northern lights reflect
Imperfection’s disciple I clawed
my way over hilltops.., planted two
elbows and a knee at water’s edge
like a human tripod on a gravel shoreline.
armoured Valkyries
escort fallen warrior souls
shieldmaiden lustre
Capturing flashing shooting star trails
the Aurora Borealis’ northern blush
and Milky Way madness crested
on midnight’s freckled pearl horizon.
heaven’s messages
shimmer above the living
spirit world dancing
I witnessed heavenly hands
push starshine across the galaxy
like flaring cosmic riptides, futilely
resisting the lunar gravitational pull.
afterlife pathway
ancestor radiance gleams
twilight of the gods
Sprawled on my cedar deck back home
I reassess twinkling constellations, firmament
unremarkable through a sheer stellar veil,
yet revealing rainbow hues via a camera lens.
Xeroxing Shelia
Dad hired Shelia—assistant to the assistant—
to support me at Warner Medical Lab;
after locking doors, we disinfected
linoleum floors in white lab coats
covered in wright stain, blood spots
& yellow blotches. Yet her protective
apron seemed to cling and highlight
her perfect derrière though soiled fabric.
I’d crushed on Shelia before exchanging words
working side by side increased my infatuation;
washing Pyrex beakers & pipettes in tandem
cracking jokes, exchanging risqué glances;
she & I refilled test tube racks, snipped needles
& discarded lancets in disposal containers,
autoclaved culture dishes, then mixed foul smelling
blood agar growth mediums for petri plates.
Beyond his oldest son, Dad gifted other employees
tired of carbon copied requisition forms & communiqués
treating receptionists, phlebotomists & technicians
to an electronic wonder that reproduced documents,
small claims disputes, innumerable patient waivers
& complex tables when placed beneath a rubber flap;
there they would engage in water cooler small talk
distracted only by flashing light as the copier hummed.
No strangers to the replicating marvel, Shelia & I
would proceed to the back room after finishing tasks
to expand our relationship through photo experiments;
coats thrown over heads for increased contrast,
we’d flip on the Xerox, take turns squinting eyes
& pressing our faces against cold glass that captured
our likenesses grimacing…, smirking…, pecking
an icy surface…locking loving lips in passion’s promise.
We passed weeks & months mixing work with pleasure
until Xerox machine rituals altered in aim & scope;
just as August leaves began to yellow, our shared
enthusiasm waned, suggestive photos declined & Shelia
found me predictable & exasperating; on my birthday, she
mailed me a dedicated copy of her exquisite, unblemished ass—
meticulously duplicated on a new, high-end Xerox:
“Kiss between my cheeks when you miss me, repro boy.”
Urban Similitude
You loved brick walls, sashay
windows, black wrought iron rails
and steel grating steps that lead
to city streets in any town USA
where mom & pa shops anchor
office buildings & apartment complexes
into basement floor foundation blocks.
Crown Fried Chicken to pharmacies,
corner markets to adult bookstores,
sin and salvation roll on the same die
followed by hucksters, preachers,
street vendors, naïve disciples…
people you treated as equals respecting
& adhering to blessed beatitudes.
Nothing iconic
distinguishes urban sprawl
so I conjure your
image to make sense out of
madness West coast to the East.
I recollect your grace—my social angel—
administering to homeless family needs
comforting indigent winos who warm
sexless, frozen digits over trashcans ablaze
glowing like tenderloin torches; there streetlamps
formerly guided footsteps & increased safety
till shattered by vandals & ignored by PG&E.
Skyscraper evenings brighten community
commons with a difference as neon lights
flash atop modern hotels, bodies pass
faintly lit windows in various degrees
of dress; I looked for you beyond shades
drawn and open, rekindling memories,
resting in arms born to cradle nonchalance.
Hourglass Sonnet
No time given to re-examine vows
uttered by couples united in thought
or repeat clichés others might espouse
in candlelit chambers where minds dreadnought.
Time’s pendulum swings in even measure
unrestrained, impelling future pivots
like hands on a clock we tick toward treasure
binding hearts entwined with Cupid’s rivets.
From daylight till dusk our love long days basked
behind closed doorways and bed chamber walls
publicly winking amore unmasked
we shamelessly exchange flirtatious calls.
We’ll brace things to come with words that console
’tween moments wind chimes ring and church bells toll.
Winchester Drive-in Theatre
Tin pan voices pass through
protective metal speaker boxes
that hook on rolled-up parked car
windows at the Winchester Drive-in
where patrons attend select films
unlikely to draw large crowds
create communal privacy shared
by collective consciousness minds
in the mood for a cosey evening
void of critical lookers, chaperones,
school peers, or family friends;
light showers spot our windshield
as the movie commences. MGM’s
lion appears on the outdoor screen
announcing a feature film few people
care to watch, preferring shadows
to cinema, physical to musical overtures.
Once the box office bomb begins to roll
apprehensive couples scoot closer together
loosen restrictive clothing, let hair hang down
mutual confidence soaring like two eagles in flight
till fingertips uncurl and lips wield perfect passion.
Sterling Warner - A Washington-based author, poet, educator, and Pushcart Nominee, Sterling Warner’s works have appeared in such literary magazines, journals, and anthologies as the Galway Review, Anti-Heroin Chic, Lothlórien Poetry Journal, Ekphrastic Journal Review, and Medusa’s Kitchen. Warner’s volumes of poetry include Rags and Feathers, Without Wheels, ShadowCat, Edges, Memento Mori, Serpent’s Tooth, Flytraps: Poems, “Cracks of Light: Pandemic Poetry & Fiction, Halcyon Days: Collected Fibonacci (2023) and Abraxas: Poems (2024)—as well as Masques: Flash Fiction & Short Stories. He currently writes, hosts “virtual” poetry/fiction readings, turns wood, and enjoys fishing and boating along the Hood Canal.
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