a poem by Adrien in response to the prompt, "No More Visiting Poets."

Let the city speak for itself

In the thrum and patter

Of wheels over manholes,

And chatter out the open bars' doors,

The clatter of dishes

In the stainless waste sinks,

And the rise and fall

Of the sirens' wail --

We don't need no visiting poets!

We don't need no visiting poets

To show us the swish and glide

Of folks on the sidewalks,

Making ballet of walks to

Shop or to work,

To play or to home.

We see the rush of colors,

Hear the symphony of sound,

Catch a glimpse of our

Wonderful selves in the

Plate glass and neon graced

Puddles of yesterday's rain.

No, we don't need no 

Visiting poets to slam our

Noses into the stench

Of urine soaked alleys,

Overfull dumpsters,

Or the reeking bundle of clothes

In a doorway that holds a soul.

The city speaks and sings to us of

Poverty, injustice, beauty and wealth.

Today, in this moment, mind and senses aflame.

We don't need no visiting poets. 

                                                          by Adrien Helm

Adrien's poem, Waterfall.

Waterfall

You step beneath a crystalline spray,
A shiver records the temperature shift.
Warmth descends over shoulders, back
Bare flanks to calves, carried in rivulets
Streaming. Breathe and tip back your head
Feel the beat on closed lids and brow
The trickle into your ears, the sluice into
The hollows of your collar bone. Ah...
Supremely sweet heat releases the
Tightness of pent up care and fatigue
The road is forgotten, sleep beckons.
Think of your shared humanity,
How those stumbling into bright lights
From the cattle cars' reeking horrors
Would have calmly embraced the hope
Of what you experience now.

                                                                    By Adrien Helm

A waterfall poem by Mariel Hess

Mariel Hess wrote a waterfall poem in response to what we affectionately call our "homework."  This task was connected to our first meeting, in June, when

left to right:  Ellen Mass, Joanne Giannino, Mariel Hell, Adrien Helm

we saw Paterson, the film, ending with the scene in Paterson, New Jersey at the Great Falls.  Our waterfalls here and about are also nice, as is Mariel's poem for us.

WATERFALL

When I need to retreat from the world, to find calm or solitude

I imagine you, losing myself in your mesmerizing movement and soothing sound

I surrender to the paradox of your simultaneous coming and going

Your perpetual stationary movement gentles my body and soul

I note the light playing your keening, careening body with sparkles and dapples

I listen to your myriad competing voices telling stories - unintelligible,  enigmatic

You carry a wisdom that I cannot fathom;

I rest peacefully in the knowledge of not knowing.

- by Mariel Hess, 7/4/2017

Poem by Jeany Morris

Jeany Morris on the right, Fran Smith to her right.

the weather falls down
in front of my eyes

the weather seeps into
my eyes
and distorts some part
of my sight

I wait for (a) clearing

                      6-28-17