Poetry, Photography & Paintings

 




Innocence





For Charles Baudelaire



Baudelaire, je suis la femme

que tu appelles la lune, la mer.

Ce soir, je fermerai mes vieux yeux

et accorderez à ces jambes une valse.



Pour toi, mes yeux bruns sont verts.

Pour toi, mes cheveux blancs sont noirs.
Mon voyageur d’un autre siècle,
je te donne mon coeur tremblant.

Vite! Viens chez moi!
J’écouterai tout ce que tu dis
dans le fleuve de mes rêves.
Un amant ne ferait pas plus.

Quand je marcherai près de la mer,
je te chanterai tes doux poèmes .
Tout le monde devrait te connaître,
ma muse, mon chéri, mon poète.





For Charles Beaudelaire, moé pi toé, October 2002; Kennedy, Lillian Baker, Tomorrow After Night (Bay River Press 2003)



Fishing in Kylemore Lake



Famine Cottage






Inside Court


Bar Admission


On the day I was admitted
to the bar
they led me to
the Law Court chamber.
The curtain opened and
suddenly,
I thought of Oz. 
Once again,
no wizards.








Bar Admission, Wolf Moon Press, A Maine Journal of Art and Opinion, Fall, 2002; Legal Studies Forum, 2003; Kennedy, Lillian Baker, Tomorrow After Night (Bay River Press 2003); Kennedy, Lillian Baker, Notions (Pudding House Publications 2004).










The Art of Leaving


Saying I love you slowly, pianissimo,
as one might play the coda of a hymn,
a refrain for all the days that were spent
largo, with great  feeling,
as if one had too much,
so gives away more and more.

Lingering, as a kiss prepares
sweetly, tenderly for sleeping.

With a belly laugh for one last clutch
like the time we caught the terrier by the rump.
He was chasing a ground hog down the hole.
Not yet! We cried.  Not yet.

Morendo, with a steady look
as an infant watches the woman
whose world he has left and entered.

There, on the cusp, we might linger
while the embrace unfolds
and, trusting one another,
we might
let go



Leavings, Hobbs, Kennedy, Moser, Ranzoni, Bay River Press (2005)    



Lavenderia, San Miguel




poems, poetry


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