Ponderable polemics, poetic

WordPress site of poet Mark Lucker

Campfire poems

  • Campground Neighbors (Campfire Poem #72)

    Couple next door way older than sixtyish me compact camper in place when we arrived a man, a woman silver hair matching dog say hello when they return late evening Early risers, both come morning they let dog out back in we nod ‘hello’ As I enjoy my morning campfire coffee I am reminded how Read more

  • Confirmation, 06/11/22

    In the hierarchy of experiences life, death love, loss nothing to a poet is as evocative of godliness, eternal truth as northern rain falling fiercely on meager roof – Mark L. Lucker © 2022 http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd Read more

  • Delicacies

    Notebooks a lot of them stacked in an open shelf next to my desk varietal chronicles spiral-bound, stitched binding, composition books, cheap dollar store pocket, leather-covered, gifted to me verse, prose, musings pontifications and declarations the older ones bottom-of-the stack the better brittle pages in varying shades of sepia all the edges time has never Read more

  • No French Cuffs

    Plaid flannel shirts of my Northwoods youth smelled of beer and pine cones boat motor gasoline and fresh caught sunfish wood smoke and filtered Winstons when I was a kid the intertwined, pungent aromas of cervelat salami plumbers’ grease, house paint mingled freely, locked in square-patterned fibers, always-rolled-up sleeves no amount of Fels-Naptha soap could Read more

  • A poet does math

    I counted stars once not for any practical reason not for romance they patiently waited for me to finish, as if they cared I was sitting by a campfire spitting its cinders as sputtering death throes they fluttered skyward before dissolving I could not help but wonder if that is how stars came to be; Read more

  • First dance

    A ma-and-pa resort, small lake north woods of Minnesota small office behind quaint bar, twelve small cabins dozen aluminum rowboats to use; minnows, worms, leeches for sale amenities, ala Angler’s Edge Joe & Gloria’s place The bar a hangout for township locals grandpa Ivar and I frequented the nicked, cigarette-burn speckled polished, yellow-varnished bar for Read more

  • Winter solace

    These north woods are lovely, bright, and deep glistening with snow and promises to keep Serenity resides in the fresh wonder of the new wintry familiarity, renewal in fresh snowfall I have not trod, of late, these winter woods two years have passed since my last sojourn my longest such time away from this place, Read more

  • Campfire poem # 54

    The embers of the campfire glow, fade with the vagaries of the waning lake breeze brilliant orange, gray, orange, silver, orange reminding me of 1969; flashing, broken neon small, single level roadside motels on old black-and-white signed U.S. highways frequented by people like those in my parents blue Plymouth Fury; mom and dad up front, Read more

  • Campfire poem #49

    A log of pine a mug of coffee and thou Omar, I am not.   – Mark L. Lucker © 2016 http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd Read more

  • Campfire poem #71

    Campfire smoke makes a fine aphrodisiac but it lulls my wife to sleep making embers an ambiguous metaphor Read more