JC Sulzenko’s Line-a-day Poem

This is the blog form of the original composition. You may also read it as a list on one page.

  • till her eyes close to their light.

  • No light before dawn.

  • Loneliness lies awake with

  • its lover, silence.

  • Silhouette landscapes merge

  • with birdsong to end darkness.

  • A song in praise of

  • this friend for fifty-two years.

  • Like lines in a hand,

  • her presence, her love, etched deep,

  • framed the child, formed the woman.

  • The language of life —

  • images and sounds from worlds

  • in evolution.

  • Before letters, cavelines drawn

  • by the hands of history.

  • All ephemeral,

  • spoken stories lose to tides

  • that heed but the moon.

  • Histories, written, survive

  • above the high-water line.

  • Words anchor minds, bring

  • imagination, spirit

  • home to wide harbours;

  • whether on paper or on a screen,

  • treasures, ideas, unlocked.

  • Three men on a porch.

  • Beer cans — one, two, three, four, five —

  • line the roughhewn rail.

  • The wide bay, shawled by sunset,

  • stays calm as they reload.

  • With rifles, handguns,

  • they shoot toward deep water,

  • where soft clouds shimmer.

  • Such weapons, such aimless hands

  • shatter surface, silence, calm.

  • Calm, tame your anger.

  • As scissors alter fabric,

  • anger transforms heart.

  • Tissue — hardened, constricted.

  • The warp, weft of life — altered.

  • Love as carapace?

  • Whether carried by the heart

  • or mind, it transforms.

  • Without shield or hard-grown shell,

  • openness lies, unguarded.

  • Openness defies form.

  • No trellis supports its weight.

  • It’s invisible.

  • Limitless, it can be bound

  • by love’s elasticity.

  • She vowed she loved him,

  • demanded a home from him.

  • He was not as sure.

  • How she had pursued him then,

  • her bow taut, arrow ready.

  • He wanted to leave,

  • to seek wisdom on his own.

  • She used weapon tears,

  • siren calls to pull him back,

  • hoist him to her trophy wall.

  • Now words cut him down.

  • From a continent away,

  • she draws back her love.

  • Wounded, he flails, falls and folds.

  • Bleeds more with her arrow out.

  • Rain makes summer grow.

  • In a green county, proud corn stalks,

  • Sharon roses thrive.

  • Tendril vines twist ’round wires.

  • A fall of sun brings Riesling.

  • Hard to distinguish

  • Old World Swallowtails from leaves

  • burned ochre by drought.

  • They glide past falling petals

  • till rain offers them lilies.

  • Rain: yes, yes, yes, yes.

  • High clouds gave rain leave to fall

  • on desperation.

  • A double rainbow cliche

  • undone: no drops reach the ground.

  • Too much, too much noise.

  • Morning rain spits and sputters.

  • Chickadees complain.

  • Blue jays call, insult the calm

  • craved by the sole penitent.

  • No pleasure comes from

  • the conspiracy of doves,

  • their three-note secret,

  • soft and sure, offset by terns,

  • aloft with rasp and cackle.

  • What does calm bestow?

  • The same as quiet offers?

  • Is it more? Or less?

  • What if he finds no refuge

  • in what he believes, he seeks?

  • He thought he knew it,

  • how calm would feel: Petal-soft,

  • breeze-easy, pastel.

  • Instead, a room of concrete