a poetry e-zine

 

 

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

Poems By Michael Keshigian
DWINDLING KNIGHT

Life loomed large in childhood,
an acre, easily a mile,
the apple tree,
a spectacle of gigantic dimensions,
germinating fruit the size of melons
amid grass and wildflowers
higher than a house
and alive with as much mystery
as the imagination allowed,
infested with long legged creatures
and flying predators,
confronted by a brave soldier,
possessing stout heartiness,
armed with broken branch sword,
trash lid shield and brown bagged helmet gear
precisely slit for covert surveillance
against an enemy constantly plotting
to overthrow the king, to rule the kingdom,
were it not for the worthy defender
daily engaging danger to insure security
and safe passage for those nesting
within the domain,
though the threat diminished with passing years
as did the proportions
to a mediocre backyard,
displaying a frail fruit tree
in grass no taller than ankle height
with no visible reminders of intense conflicts.
The enemy had disappeared,
deployed, no doubt, to younger battlefields,
accompanied by the imagination
now desperately clinging to creative output
to preserve a degree of youthful enthusiasm
for an aging warrior.
 


CONCEPTION

Barefoot in white slacks
and her husband's sweater,
she plays the piano most seriously,
bungling Mozart with a grimace
then a grin,
the lamplight
flickered unnoticed upon her fingers.

The field from where her progeny
once thrived has withered,
grown voices and opinions
have fled the confines of the arena
where music,
like a tranquilized tiger,
swerves again.

Her foot presses pedals,
fingernails carelessly flit keys,
and in her womb
a musician is conceived.
The house is no longer empty,
half full with sound,
she nourishes herself.


Michael Keshigian is a performing musician and college educator in Boston . His most recent publication credits include: Mannequin Envy, Barbaric Yawp, Avocet, Jerry Jazz Musician, Poetry Depth, among many other online and written periodicals. I have three published chapbooks and two Pushcart nominations.

 

Copyright 2007  Chantarelle's Notebook