Ponderable polemics, poetic

WordPress site of poet Mark Lucker

memories

  • Open

    I long for the sound of an old wooden screen door slamming oak frame, wire mesh heavy, with a new spring so the initial slam triggers recoil – residual wood WHAP! Thump! clunk. Nothing to stop an old wooden screen door save gravity those doors were rapt percussion a backbeat to youthful adventure The one Read more

  • 1958

    Eight-by-ten, glossy Women’s gowns a snowy hue men’s jackets polar-colored pants black, everything else radiant shades of grays drearily brilliant tones off-black, dark-white vibrant portrait in celluloid Twelve adults, a young boy bouffants and buzz cuts, ogling camera, mischievously dead serious, mindfully aware playful magnitude of the day fighting off hangovers practicing feigned solemnity due Read more

  • Breezes

    summer comes to a close autumnal breezes waft rustling memories of those days when the close of summer had more definitive endings sun-drenched days of youthful frolic, innocent play, done swimming, playing with frogs in holes dug on sandy beaches at grandparent’s homes; ‘the lake’ summer Xanadus of childhood one year, scenic backdrops for advancing Read more

  • 33 (For Johnny)*

    Twenty-one years was not nearly enough; we had just embarked when you left. Thirty-three years is not nearly enough to erase what is indelibly sketched not a pencil caricature, a dimly recollected photographic snapshot or grainy home movie just you, at nineteen, before illness rudely smudged and dog-eared the picture you are smiling, damn it Read more

  • 1958

    Eight-by-ten, glossy women’s gowns a snowy hue men’s jackets polar-colored pants black, everything else radiant shades of grays drearily brilliant tones off-black, dark-white vibrant portrait in celluloid Twelve adults, a young boy bouffants and buzz cuts, ogling camera, mischievously dead serious, mindfully aware playful magnitude of the day fighting off hangovers practicing feigned solemnity due Read more

  • Deliverance

    remembering trumps planned forgetting spontaneity a full house, repression a lowly pair erasing the past is deleting old email, your in-box is empty, but… our eternally modern struggle remains reply or delete? reply or delete? reply or delete reply. delete. indecisive hunt-and-peck via archetypical cartoonish devil on one shoulder angel on the other needing a Read more

  • Estrange

    Regret and I have a tenuous relationship flirtations ebb, wane pop up again precariously at odd moments, clumsily the standoffish one in this tepid relationship is me running hot-and-cold I can be a frustrating companion lackluster lover there is no love lost between me and regret never love at first sight never a commitment convenient Read more

  • Call me, Ishmael. Leave a message.

    We all have within us some Captain Ahab obsessively pursuing something, someone unattainable physically or mentally we quest something lost never obtained hadn’t the courage or stomach for a diem you could never carpe uselessly we quest a time we came close nagging should haves gnawing what ifs crimes of passion not worth prosecuting each Read more

  • Freshness

    cardboard Tupperware crowds my attic keeping my soul preserved if not fresh rows, stacks of oddly square bowls repositories of then; lost loves, past successes other leftovers sometimes leftovers trump a fresh lunch filling rejuvenation found amidst the smell musty brown wood pulp – Mark Lucker Read more

  • Taking a concession stand

    I hate it when somebody states they are ‘making concessions’ to middle age I find mid-life to be a wonderful carnival the only concessions those to be purchased to quench a thirst sate a hunger I stroll the middle age midway impervious to the shill’s siren-call of con-men barkers offering relief enhancement and release me, Read more