Pianos and Buses

 

They drop from the sky
at the worst time,
pummel the unsuspecting passersby,
not even a brief discord
or half sonata
to warn the victim
of pancake ala grand piano
 
or step
off the curb
on the cell phone,
try to
seal that important
business deal,
a once-in-a-lifetime
hook-up,
no horn,
no screech of tires,
just a few tons
of bus
that makes
mincemeat
of mister cell phone,
 
or stay home,
close the shades,
lock the doors,
hope,
really pray,
those bad ‘ol
pianos and buses
don’t crash through
the roof,
down on all our heads

by
Rod C. Stryker

Hues

Ethereal View by Rod C. Stryker

Ethereal hues
through a window
pour into my soul,

they
warm the corners
dark too long,

burn the chill
out of these bones

frozen by routine
and work.

These hues ethereal
help me see

my angel

wrap those wings
in sweet embrace,

to soar,
eyes bright,
fixed on
wide horizons,

to hear angel’s
hymn,
a call to make
new vistas real.

And when these
visions
come to pass,
I
will finally be
home.

by
Rod C. Stryker

 

The First Woman

Lady Lilith by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Where is it written
that I must lay beneath
him?

Wonders and paradise
lie before us,
we trod the dust
we’re made from,
side by side,
yet he exhorts
his role on top.

Woman and man,
goddess and god,
a glorious eternity
as two sides
of one coin.

But now
the Father has judged
my husband’s right
to rule over
me, proclaim
privilege above me,
violate my freedoms
on top of me!

It is clear
not Adam,
God, nor Paradise
are worthy
of me.

I am
Lilith.

by
Rod C. Stryker

Finale

Finale by Rod C. Stryker

 

It’s a punch line
held by the dusk
 
if anxiety hadn’t
splashed its nervous
 
laughter all over
the gashed sky
 
who is luminous, furious
at the sun’s disregard
 
for order or gravity
while the sea gets
 
married to bed sheets
in steamy hours
 
way past reasonable,
and fingers
 
run under chins and smiles
soaked in memory,
 
simmered in apprehension
and torrents of pure blue.

 
by
Rod C. Stryker