a poetry e-zine










Poems By Karen Porter



The fresh light of day
along with remembrances
of home.
The evening
summoned revelers
to the streets, but
he saw order
in the gangs of old men
and their virulent assaults.
Victims whispered fiercely,
poisoned by the city's secrets.
Such excess
intoxicated him.
Even at rest,
his thoughts were desolate,
evoking chaos.
Silently he stood
amidst the wreckage -
a dream's fluttering wings
from his extended hand.
And somewhere
a distant dirge to dredge
the first stirrings
of fear.


A muffled thump
on the roof
clarifies the night.
This is my world
masked by cloud -
a clumsy dancer
in a frameless painting.
It is a hymn
locked inside a box
until its magic
corrodes itself.
And in a hundred years,
or a thousand years,
or when I die
someone will open it,
greedily, full of black hope
and find the darkest air
they never imagined.

Karen Porter's writing has recently appeared in Concho River Review, Abbey, Not One of Us, and Faces of the Goddess.



Copyright 2006  Powerscore Productions