Poems by Carly

Poems by Carly

Hybrid Consequences

by Carly Svamvour
May, 1999

Is it wild flowers
Or just flowers
Gone wild?

The latter, those wayward blooms
Making a home on our side of the fence.

I’ve known people
Like that.

There are people whose roots never change.
Their terrain
Ever constant.

Then comes the day they are blown by
Careless winds.
They have no choice but to
Take root in
Foreign Lands.

Some allow themselves to become
What you might call
Cultivated.

Some respond by chucking back phrases
Ending with words like
And the horse you rode in on.

These are the Hybrid Consequence
Blowing in the breeze,
Mingling with the seeds of Others.

They refuse to conform to either side's demands.

They take root wherever the
Careless Wind
May deign to set them down.

They are the true
Wild Flowers.

They are truly
Cultivated.

Fruit Punch

by Carly Svamvour

They do not come in
Boxes.

Bags .... perhaps
or even
Baskets

But never,
Boxes.

This last, his only comment on what I had considered to be a
Very
Romantic
Poem.

I had, you see
described an

Apple

Full blown, flashing from his face
and how he had once offered it to me
complete with the very box it came in.

In the next
I think, as is only fitting and proper,
I shall take my foolish heart and stick it in a

Bag.

Plain, brown ... serrated at the top.

He may take it for lunch and eat it

Pits and all.

Sunset

by Carly Svamvour

You love me
exquisitely.

Later, you mention how it was
that you and I
and the chicken wings
were done
at the same time.

Whistle Down the Dark

by Carly Svamvour

There's nothing to this moment
Save for the night
The rain
Save for the sound of the wind
Two wheels beneath me
Spinning
Block on block of endless pavement.

There are lakes
Rivers
Mountains and valleys
Oceans with depths never dreamed of
But I come to this from an urge
Pure and simple

To catch the night
As it falls.

Petals to the Wind

by Carly Svamvour

I think of the blossoms I wore when we wed
Cornflowers
Blue as the sea

You cast them away
Don't save them, you said
There will be others
A thousand
At least.

I watched as they scattered
Disbursed in the breeze
To rest on the sand of a shore.
Abandoned
Redundant
Just so much debris
To wash with the tide in the morn.

Forgotten the flowers
My bridal bouquet.
Discarded
With yesterday's dreams.

Separation

by Carly Svamvour

I give you this now
As much as I
and only some light years ago had given

There was, at the time
So much to be taken.

There was the moon
Full and brimming a new
Spring Night.
And you, complete with the
Blue Flash
You have always
Arrived in.

I placed it in your lap
This great bright apple
And danced as you polished it.
I even watched you cut it.

There was the
Afterward
The turning away
A letting of tears.
There was never a time I'd let you see.

But even now, as I write this last
There's the
Knowing
That were you to ask
I'd gladly give the other
This one lone half
That and the very box it came in.

The Parting

by Carly Svamvour

Afternoon
We walk together to the bridge.
You hold me close
Your kiss lingering
For what seems the first time
In weeks.

Though we have merely agreed to a
Cooling
I am sure
Forever
Stares us straight in the face.

I walk away
Holding tears and a
Single rose.

I will go on to remember grape soaked days
Half-baked dreams
Part of an afternoon by the railway tracks.

We spoke of the freight trains
Times gone by when one could cross the country
With nothing but
Luck
In the back pocket.

I will remember your once having told me
that yellow roses mean

Good-bye.

Eggs

by Carly Svamvour

Picture it now

A million of them

All descending on

City Hall

Screaming their yokes out

POWER TO THE EGG!!

Chicken fathers, you say ....

Trust me

It's a fowl day.

May 27, 1999
Dear Amanda Eve:
It was yesterday they told me that an eight-and-a-half pound specimen of the female race had entered the world.
You were born to Christine and Andy at 2:30 a.m. on May 26th, 1999. Present at your birth was your father, Andy, your Aunt Cheryl and your mother's good friend, Kaitlin. Oh yes ... also present was your mother. Guess she thought it was one of those had to be there kind of things.
Today, I hear, you are leaving the hospital and going to your first home on Elm Grove.
When your sister, Kathryn was born, I began letters to her. They were just general, rambling notes about her life and the world in general. A little bit of current events and my thoughts. Sometime in your adult life, you and Kathryn will be given your letters. They will be on disks - I imagine that by then everything will be done on computer. They will be in the form of a presentation package - probably Corel or PowerPoint - whatever I'm using when I get so old that I'll feel the need to get everything together for you while I can still read and write.
Then again, the way scientific progress is going right now, you'll probably get the letters while I'm still here. It's likely that they'll have found a way to make us live forever.
Well, this is the first of my letters - this one will be posted on the Gawd Fearin' Web this weekend, along with a picture of you in all your newborn lustiness.
Enjoy your letters, and welcome, Amanda Eve.
Love from
Carly Svamvour - Your Nana