Sunday, January 23, 2011

New Poetry by Michael Lee Johnson

Leaves in December

Leaves, a few stragglers in
December, just before Christmas,
some nailed down crabby
to ground frost,
some crackled by the bite
of nasty wind tones.

Some saved from the matchstick
that failed to light.
Some saved from the rake
by a forgetful gardener.

For these few freedom dancers
left to struggle with the bitterness:
wind dancers
wind dancers
move your frigid
bodies shaking like icicles 
hovering but a jiffy in sky,
kind of sympathetic to the seasons,
reluctant to permanently go,
rustic, not much time more to play.

- Michael Lee Johnson 2007  (Bluepepper 2010)

For more information regarding this poet, simply click on the post heading.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Wing it!

I have begun to tweet in my drive to harvest as much good poetry for Bluepepper as is humanly possible for an aging misanthrope with legs too long and pockets too deep and ears that pop whenever a black cockatoo flies east. So hungry am I for the best, dear reader. If you do not know the protocol by now, just glance to your right in the sidebar.