Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Month: September, 2012

MY 200TH POST

The Hawk Deck 6:42pm

What is It that makes A Poem?

Is It the induction of waves

louder now than usual —

or is It a lost conversation

with a Siamese cat named Moulan

(Who seemed to be listening too)

or is It a reminder

when eating canned peaches

that I made a giant sculpture once

“Peaches & Blades”

going floor to ceiling

filling the lobby of Cooper Union’s 4th floor?

Is this A Poem?

CONNECTION

The Hawk Living Room 4:35pm

I wrote a poem

in the 3rd grade

inspired by the movie

“Ring Of Bright Water”

which was the only movie

I had seen besides

“The Sound Of Music”

— The Poem hasn’t survived

but I remember being captivated

by The Sparkles In The Sun

to write My Last Line:

“for the beautiful scene had just begun”

MORNING CHORES

The Tomato-coloured Couch 10:04am

My Husband feeds The Cats

— We have six —

& I clean out The Kitty Litter

every morning

while The Coffee’s on

I pan for Gold

in The Basement

& when I’m done

I play Aquarius

in My Nude Night Gown

emptying the dehumidifier

so Hunter’s 350  Folio Books

don’t get musty

THE TOMATO-COLOURED COUCH 9:00pm

I was That Baby

in My Bassinet

on a living room balcony

in a house called The Laundry

I watched The Ceiling

until it grew

into The Balcony Ceiling

here at The Hawk

where I lie back

in My Couch’s Recliner

to look up

& up again

under the cover

of My Grown Up Shelter

NO FRILLS

I don’t bake

I write poems

Do The People

in Martin’s No Frills Parking Lot

need to be reached?

No, They are happy

in Their Own Disgruntled Lives

I just saw

a Mother & Daughter

eating Cheese Doodles

on The Way

to Their Car

SENSE

The Hawk Deck 11:35am

If I hear The Waves

Really Hear

They say, “It’s OK

It’s OK”

If I see The Ocean

Really See

It shows Me

Its Serenity

If I feel The Day

Really Feel

It tells Me

You Are Here

Really Here

& You Love It

EVOCATION

On McNutt Island

I used to sit in our 3-holer privy

with My Mother

who often rested Her right elbow

on Her thigh

right hand under chin

Left Hand draped across

dangling Her Silver Nugget Ring

I assumed this same position today

with My Left Hand draped

across My Thighs

& I Was My Mother

I looked down to see My Mother’s Ring

& there were My Diamonds —

jolting Me

with crystallizing light

seared into My Brain

OK’d by My Mother

 

 

NOTICE TO MY READERS

Please note that I often make editorial changes after posting.

Thanks for your patience,

Joanna

THE HERON

The West Desk Window 11:24am

I am luxuriating in The Full Viewing

of My Beautiful Bird of Paradise

I watch Him from My Vehicle

at the side of Hawk Point Road

My Neck craned to My Left

I gaze across Tidal Flats

at The Break in The Dunes

where Storm Waves wash in

small fry

for My Beautiful Long-legged, Long-necked Friend

Who wades so prominently

through One Grand Pool

to fish at Four Glorious Intervals

before I allow My Self

to finish driving home

to fix Lunch

THE FISHERMAN’S VISION

He steamed out 24 hours

not planning on coming back

when He cut the engine

& sat astern

testing the water:

“It was real to Me

I witnessed It

& same time I’m puzzled by It

I don’t see any reason

I shouldn’t tell It —

Some People may see a UFO

maybe They did

I thought about painting It

It’s so well embedded in My Mind

They don’t have to look like a seagull —

They weren’t

They weren’t a sea hag

They were sort of angelic like

down on the outside —

similar to a glow

20 feet away

2 on top 1 on the bottom

sea hags don’t hover

They were trying to send Me a Message

delicate hair, like angel hair

Something I can’t explain

but It happened”