Two poems by David Mac

Remember the Poetic Silver for our Sunflowers!

Hey remember to
send some
poetic silver
from the floorboards
of your mind
or poetic butter
and wine.

Poetry is my painting,
so no sad news,
please.

Early morning thoughts
are best
from brain shop.

Floor slap?
what’s that mean?
Broken stick?
what’s that mean?
Dove wing?
what’s that mean?

I don’t know
how to
contribute candy
or woollen
the problem!

They don’t know my poet bones

Hey, Warhol,
don’t watch me jump
outta
NYC building!

Use your oils.

Paint sunflowers!

====================

A Place for Angels

A place at the centre of my eye
      the back of my head
      they said
was a place where angels hid
 
A place for angels
 
They creep in and drop from stars
      they fall off heaven
They land in my sight
      my great midnight rambling vision
      come through my old mind chambers
      back of skull
windows to the soul
 
Ah, this place for angels
      is no place for angels!
 
Perhaps use Seraph
      as an alternative
 
Dwell, whisper, snug and cotton
Angels ain’t cherubs
      ain’t zephyrs
      ain’t zeppelins!
They ain’t fluff and feathered
      or gentle soft, woollen silky velvet
or delicate bones
 
So let them nest
      and sleep angel dreams
Leave ’em alone and let them be!
They done nothing
      to no one
      which means they done it all
 
      so blame them
 
      don’t wake them
 
Just know they’re there
 
Save a place
                 for your angels

Author bio:

David Mac has appeared, or is appearing, in Ambit, Mud Luscious, various Monkey Kettle, erbacce, a couple of poetry anthologies by United Press, This Zine Will Change Your Life, as well as half a dozen Clockwise Cats.