Wednesday, 5 November 2014

3 Poems by B.Z. Niditch

TEN P.M.

Into the lamplight
with two Hemingways,
a novel and my cat
who both fall
like almonds
under the card table
of solitaire.


WITH SO MUCH TO SAY

Asking to have a day
disconsolate, open
not now hidden
behind sunglasses
or a masquerade
of masks,
when time and word
are in sink with another,
carrying my cargo
of language to reach
through cities and hamlets
with an instilled vision
reaching my urban readings
now at transparent peace
without a murmur
or a tweet
of annihilated opinions,
expecting to share my space
of transposed verse
as when clouds unlock
the sky's intimacy into sunshine
for my unmeasured voice.


INTO THE STILLNESS

Into the stillness
when a moment
packs the heat
of your consciousness
and a poem overflows
from my everyday eyes
here on a boulevard bench
by the lure of the sea
forgetting the quiet insight
of a last night insomniac
with a hypnosis of language
lost in shadowy breath
with the countless hours
of a proverbial sleep walker.

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