Sunday, November 1, 2015

Two Poems by Tina Pocha


Aubade

Matins -- Anticipation
I cannot sleep
for knowing
you'll be here
I am rested
I am awake
The window's dark
But I am light
Soon the rooftops
will emerge
from shadows
but first the birds
as if they see
what eye cannot
perched atop
the eucalyptus
Ahoy!

Lauds -- Preparation
I make the tea
from memory
hands moving
in prayer
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
Then I sit
and watch
the east
turn blue
from black

Prime -- Welcome
Come inside
paint the walls
lemon chiffon
Touch gently
the moonflower
she does not
wish to wake
Meet the floor
the tabletops
my lover's eyes
stir beneath
your gaze

Terce -- Climax
Take this peach
Break its skin
warm it
in your mouth
Taste the sunglow,
the amber
running
down your chin
Smell the heat
rising up
through your feet
Listen for the bees
as they open
their humnals



Iphigenia

These are the stories that I was told
The softest petal draws the bee; the sturdy stem doesn't.

These are the stories that I was told
Beautiful night is silent; hush stars, the sun must sing.

These are the stories that I was told
Look at the river.  She bends and sways on her way home.

These are the stories that I was told
Write only the poetry of God; He will bless you.

These are the stories that I was told
Salmon makes her way upstream; she lays her eggs and dies.

These are the stories that I was told
I want you to devour my school-girl inhibitions




Tina Pocha was born and raised in Bombay, India.  She is a scientist by training and a writer by avocation.  She currently works as an academic in the field of language and literacy, but in the world of poetry, she is (mostly) unpublished and unfinished and savoring the ride!  She currently resides in Southern California.




1 comment: