Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

The Redirecting Nightmare

He had put my mother’s furniture out

around the corner of the Shakespeare House

to get whatever he could for it

and was moving in with his pregnant girlfriend

who had a crib stuck in the staircase

with me climbing up through it —

Someone had removed Self Organizing Galaxy

off the internet —

My Daughter was going away

with her hands dry and neglected

and I was unable to retrieve

the phone number

of one of my only friends

for help

Watch “9/11 Prophetic WTC Rooftop Painting by Joanna Gilman Hyde” on YouTube

3 Years To The Day

I walked out of The Marital Bedroom

angry as I was

yet His Blue Sage Tranquility Candle

is set again upon My Bathroom Window Sill.

I wear The Divorce Ring

I forced Him to buy two summers ago

upon My Left Ring Finger

to signify the solidity

of my determination

to keep The Man I claim —

The Man I married

by mistake

The Man who incites my ferocity

and excites the most basic desire

I know.

I know.

2 Him

M(eye) Pre-dawn Sky

plays with Me —

The Crescent Moon Over The Ocean

is tinted gold to catch M(eye) View —

and as Eye look up to Orion

at the Eastern corner of M(eye) House

Eye feel secure in M(eye) fun —

and there 2 is The Big Dipper

on Its side, tipping,

and as Eye look 2 think,

there comes a shooting star

as M(eye) Answer

10/22

Eye have just applied the last

of m(eye) cement to the canvas

of m(eye) Newest Dawn

and 2 m(eye) sublime fortification

and Oh! What Supreme

F–O–R–T–I–F–I–C–A–T–I–O–N

Have Eye!!

The Crystalization of Humanity

It has been our flow

of the organic shapes of Earth

laid out flat, or rippled, or swirling

undulating at our feat

whereby we have built our empires

on computer circuit boards

dazzling within our linear

mathematical

extrusion

MOMENTARILY

Momentarily

Eye miss His Smell in This King

Or is It M(eye) Own?

Temporary Hiatus

Eye am still writing poetry — privately now. But Eye may decide to post in the near future. Thank you very much my readers, new and old.

Joanna

Mrs. Atwood

Down the street

From where I live

On the road named Atwood’s Road

Lives Mrs. Atwood

With her family gone —

She talks of the cellar hole

On the hill by the shore

And how ANYONE could build

There, right up from the foundation.

The Woods Harbour Parade

Eye stood beside My Pretty Pictures

next to tables spread with candy apples

caramel apples

decorated cookies on sticks

to see the crowd of parents

with their children in strollers

with a sleeping baby dressed

in a lobster suit

with teenage girls on parade

and a kid with his father’s airbrushed tattoo

of double cat claws

against his right shoulder

Two strollers held little happy people

holding lollipops

and Eye watched the tiny fists collide

as both raised their arms in delight

to thrust their emblems forward