Welcome to Poetry by Patrons

Here are some poems written by library patrons and by members of the Lawrence Poetry Circle. The Poetry Circle meets monthly to discuss poets and their works -- join us any time.

Black cat by Ray Brown (posted 10/9/2009)

A black cat crosses no path by coincidence.
It searches for its prey, as meticulously
as the lion tracks the wildebeest, then circles
and runs it down.

The gatto nero understands its role.
Select one each day - for whom
normal misfortune is insufficient.
Then predict, for no predictable cause,
a tragedy indelibly etched on the mind
by the vision of the cat,
in the pathway of life.

Why stalk its victims? “Why not”, it answers.
This widely held secret –
its batting average is .249
less than 25% success.

The coincidence of circumstances - not whom the cat chooses,
but whether it is lucky to have chosen someone
whom fate elects to notice that day.

As for the cat, its reputation precedes it.
Little does the world note its failings.
People consider themselves lucky
to have avoided the divination -
to talk about it further would be bad karma.

Love is an Old Map by Howard Zogott

Love is an old map stained
    with faint markings in pencil
lines on a face
containing the secrets
    that hanker after meaning
full of information
no one else will understand
    that becomes extinct after us.

Before the Full Moon Glows by Tom Walsh

Before the full moon glows through the window

The air crackles like hot buttered popcorn
Faces shine against dark blue painted walls
Laughter sounds like coos from the newly born
Woman’s lips speak kisses, like painted dolls

After the filled whiskey glasses empty

The air drizzles down stale and salacious
Faces are powdered wrinkled or sneezing
Laughter exhales from fermented throats and
Lips are blood red, lubricous and panting.

(-with thanks to Philip Larkin for the juxtaposition -- Tom)

Life’n’Death by Tom Walsh

The discarded, white cigarette was tossed,
Still smoldering,
To the cold city street,
Then rested, balanced, on a cold criss-cross steel sewer,
Suspended between the light above and the dark below,
Content to see-saw up and down, back and forth, burning, burning.

Finally, its gray, ghostly smoke buttered the air as it fell out of sight: another victim of gravity.

January by Mark Schardine (posted 1/19/2010)

Through the bare branches
Shines the pale winter moonlight
With its modest beams.

An empty landscape
The minimum, nothing else
A flicker of light.

This meager guidance
Reveals to us the signposts
Until clouds roll in.

The Equinox Approaches by Mark Schardine (posted 9/11/2009)

Goldenrod flowers
With modest colors, serve as
Autumn’s harbinger.

Dull yellow blossoms
Their hues brightening under
The sun’s direct gaze

Show us summer’s end.
Long early morning shadows
Contrast with gold blooms.

Late May by Mark Schardine (posted 6/2/2009)

The leaves offer shade
As they absorb the sunlight
To grow taller still.

I sit relaxing
In cool breezes, shielded from
The glare of the sun.

As I sit calmly
Leaves are filled with energy
To sustain our life.

My Teddy Bear by Bob McHugh

I put him there just yesterday
Then I went out to play
I'd forgotten all about him
'Til I thought of him today
When I stopped by a museum
And saw him on display
Has it really been that many years
Since I went out to play?

Morning Psalm of Sox by Harvey Steinberg       

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