Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Two poems by Charles Clifford Brooks III



The Abandonment of another Alice

The morning runs over me
like a petulant child.

In the hum
between guitar strings,
I see your face
all Irish
and on fire.

Through my unhealthy
hankering for something new,
I am hung up
in how to skip out
on you.
As an anaconda to any
sweet, living thing,
it’s a predictable
torture.

Due to the vexing
vertebrae in my lower half,
today is a jerky dance.
I’ve stopped paying attention
to the absence
of a conscience.
There are a dozen
unheard messages
from you
I won’t open.
I’ve said hateful things.

This will remain unfinished business.
The man you’ve seen
is a jabberwocky
without willful ill.
Yet, admittedly sorry,
I shall still
abandon you,
Alice.

++++++++++++++++++++

Our Shower

This shower’s always warm,
so wash off who came before.
My water is yours.
In here you’ll never stand
behind me,
that cold tile at your back.

I think, like love,
wanting is eternal.
Seldom found in one,
both
are born in you.

I adore your happy sway,
all your bad habits,
the lace and playful lashes
we keep to ourselves.

Author bio:

Clifford Brooks is a poet, freelance writer, and teacher living in Georgia. His first book of poetry, The Draw of Broken Eyes & Whirling Metaphysics, was released in August 2012 by John Gosslee Press. Since then, the book has been nominated for the Pulitzer, Georgia Author of the Year, and three Pushcart awards. Currently, Clifford is haunting every corner of the American South to bring his next book of verse, Athena Departs, into full bloom.

1 comment:

LindaVee Stahlberg said...

Clifford has said that these two poems are good examples of the duality of his nature. The second, with it's beautiful, lilting wording creates a picture in the mind's eye of a sensitive and gentle lover. The first, with it's much stronger visual imagery, does, indeed, show a completely polar opposite personality in the way love, friendship, etc. are handled. One side of "the narrator" is loving and caring; the other, while still caring, is unable to express his real care/love/feelings and thus, simply does nothing. This certainly explains his way of dealing with such issues, but leaves the reader wondering, "What about Alice?" The narrator's honesty, in saying that the unwillingness to communicate is a flaw within himself, is admirable. However, at the end of the poem, the reader identifies most strongly with Alice. As an objective observer and commentator, I would really be interested in knowing what was the difference in the two women which would cause such opposite reactions. I do, in analyzing the two pieces, feel that in reality, the narrator's feelings are/were actually much stronger and more authentic, for Alice. I would so love to hear Mr. Brooks thoughts on this.