Monday, July 26, 2010

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,

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
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.

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