Sports
Last Updated on Monday, 17 August 2009 07:42 Written by beverlyhills Monday, 17 August 2009 07:29
Environment
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Poetry/Prose
Last Updated on Wednesday, 2 September 2009 10:43 Written by beverlyhills Monday, 17 August 2009 05:38
Reaching
A creature in the distance
on the darkness
wanders toward Forever
teetering and sound.
Halleluja.
Piercingly struggle on.
- Cris Devine
Downtown Daydreams:
The way the tree trunk color matches the concrete building behind it
And the concentration of chlorophyll outlines it starkly,
The way the water hinges onto the myriad invisible cilia
Of the cut orchid leaf as it sits in a bowl
Hopefully to sprout anew,
The way the siren screaming out the window
Matches in perfect rhythmic sync
To the song on my headphones…
- Cris Devine
Grandma was a California Girl:
Grandma was a California Girl.
A curvy, short blonde with green eyes
whose mother was a Bohemian from Czechoslovakia
and whose father was a trump-footed shoemaker from Sweden.
They met on a ship bound for America.
Grandma met an Irish Frenchman
and bore him seven children
(my Dad being the youngest).
She had a swimming pool and lived in Orange County
and she’d watch my sister and me as we swam.
She would take us to Disneyland
and to the beach at Corona Del Mar
when we came from Minnesota to visit her.
She wore a gold bracelet filled with charms,
representing each of her grandchildren.
Grandma looked half her age, and always smiled.
She smoke cigarettes and got manicures religiously;
consumed saccharine like it was health food.
She got cancer in the 80s but it went into remission.
When it came back, it had spread around a lot.
Now she’s beyond space and time as we understand it
but to me, she’s eternally 25 years old.
And Grandma is a California girl.
- Cris Devine
I woke Up:
In the dream I had returned
to the countryside
where I grew up.
Trees and sunshine everywhere.
You could hear the rustling life.
Birds calling, cicadas singing
The grass jumped and slithered with creatures.
I exited my house and stood on the porch
When a loud crashing came from the sky.
Bomber jets doing tactical maneuvers
A new and constant thing now,
A time of never ending war.
The ground shook, birds fell from the sky.
What did the people care?
They weren’t
Disturbing the important concrete buildings
of Civilization.
Small fires started on the hillsides
And the country was no more.
- Cris Devine
Weeds:
I can’t be the only one
Who’s seen their secret places boarded up
Fences planted needlessly
A backyard gone to concrete
Trees pruned to rot.
Thank God for weeds
And for the errant plant
Popping through civilization
Marks of the taggers
From climbing on rooftops.
The prayer is said for me
And I can only add to it.
- Cris Devine
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