Monday, December 28, 2015

Women



Since I stopped being wavey
I knew the truth;
felt their weight;
heard the pounding of their feet;
knew their flesh;
saw the raw unelaboration of their faces;
heard their voices;
tumbled around their rage.
Yet somewhere
where my boyhood
lingers, I still expect
angels.

Publication: Prachya Review


http://www.prachyareview.com/pems-by-don-schaeffer/

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Weather


We spent the night
under the protection
of the earth, as
the earth protects its own.
I could hear the
foghorns deep in the bay.
We slept inside the
warm wet womb of cloud
that pressed us tight
against the affections
of the stone.

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Yoda


You can see
how small he is
against the backdrop of the forest
on an island
in the northern ocean
of the tiny planet.
The 932 year old self
dreams of the times
when fears were fresh;
taken by sudden fatigue
climbs into his narrow bed
carefully curling his knees,
pulls his private
coverlet over and falls asleep.
And the sleep
changes to something
deeper.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

Seven Deadly Sins

Dear Don,
Thank you for submitting your poem to Lost Tower Publications.
I am delighted to inform you that your poem 'The Over Man' has been chosen for publication in the Seven Deadly Sins anthology.
In this anthology we have selected a range of touching, emotional, inspirational and educational poetry from around the world. Work was chosen for publication based on a strict entrance criteria including originality, subject matter, expression, imagination, emotional effect on the reader and creativity.




The Over Man

I envy his clean
blue eyes. I come
from the South of the world,
the slothful place. My muddy
eyes say "gypsy."
.
He lives in the country
and wears his shirts
with long sleeves buttoned
around his wrists. One can
never criticize his neatness.
.
He has a natural wave of hair
over his high forehead which signals
care, seriousness, importance, the
treatment given to those who never
suffer insults.
.
I can rarely focus
into eyes so pure. I only
catch a glimpse of
flashes from the wings of angels.

Sunday, December 13, 2015

As a Species They Make Such Beautiful Scars.


Beginning like colored crystal,
they build temples

that ensnare their eyes
and soft clouds

of moving sound from
shivers of air.

They pull their
time into feathers

and spread their
dreams like snowflakes.

Friday, December 11, 2015

Personal Styles


Sensitizer:
They didn't want me
in Winnipeg. It comes to me
with a chill. They smiled
when I retreated, thinking
I was gone. I didn't do
a single good thing
in Winnipeg, forty years,
in and out,
incompetence
and pride.

Repressor:
I do a little
not-a-hero-jig,
watch my children's children
dance from far away,
feel the soothing
cover of scars,
away far away
over a sea of pine trees.

Wednesday, December 09, 2015

Taj Mahal Review



My poem, "Birth" (http://enthalpypress.blogspot.com/search?q=birth) will appear in the TAJ MAHAL REVIEW VOL. 14 NUMBER 2 DEC 2015.

http://www.cyberwit.net/publications/843

Awake


They didn't want me
in Winnipeg. It comes to me
with a chill. They smiled
when I retreated, thinking
I was gone. I didn't do
a single good thing
in Winnipeg, forty years,
in and out,
incompetence
and pride.

Monday, December 07, 2015

Autumn Leaves



There is no
color in God's eye.
It's layers of vitamins
and the peeling
from death.
The riches of the Earth
are not in God's eye
but ours. Coincidences
of physics, peeled off
in layers of failing energy,
when seasons add things
and take things away.

Saturday, December 05, 2015

"Withdrawal Color": Photoshow


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPFACI89KAc

Thursday, December 03, 2015

Heckscher Park, Huntington, NY: A Photoshow

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPteP7xXvME
.