New Poems by Colin Ward

Colin's Poems


_____The following poems are arranged from older efforts (near the top) down to his latest. Please feel free to comment on them; your feedback is very much appreciated.

_____ Some poems have explanatory links in their title or text. While it is hoped that the poems stand on whatever interpretation the reader draws from them (i.e. without such "footnotes"), readers can click on the link if curious to know the writer's context.


Earliest efforts
Second collection
Third collection
Latest efforts

Pink denotes free verse.
Orange denotes metrical poems.
Tephra
Trophies
Breaking Up
Silencers
Aufwallung
Another Washington Memorial
Brinks Truck Roadkill
Lover's Will
Christmas Tsunami, 2004
Inukshuk
Ekaterinburg
Paradise Has No Colonies
Raspberries
By George!
Embracing Arms II: Business End
The Evolution of Buffalo Wings
Tecumseh
Un Drapeau pour Trudeau
Wintakan Eulogy
NFL Villanelle
Looking for Lorca
Isoroku's Death Poem
Talking with Woods on a Frosty Evening
----



Tephra

Thera, you left your cord
blood across the pharaoh's skyline.
Thutmose III, the only free man,
swore that there were none.

Mayan myths and courtiers
in Cathay would whisper
how you brought new meaning
to nightfall. Your tephra

was on more than tongues: Black
Sea shallows, White Mountain dendros
and Greenland ice.

Your caldera hides
few secrets. Pastel frescoes of dancing
antelope seem just innocent
enough for Atlantis.

Comments:




Trophies

You are in a Russian mood
but become a Roman
off to please the purple-
trimmed patrician trio
with your curling knuckles
and curves

Romanee-Conti and Crepes Languedoc
before leather nights
bring the button-on-washboard slide
of ben-wa balls and the strike
of whalebone
as you face your fellow
totems on the mantle
one of them
solid silver

A monk outfasting hunger
I polish sterling crusts
of trophies and teapots
until you tire of bone
and stage
your return to home plate

Comments:




Breaking Up

Dressed in air
force uniform,
semaphoric ribbons
and megalomedallions,
Dad used to tell
me: "Any landing
you walk away from
is a good landing."

It was nice
knowing you.

Comments:




Silencers

The brown skinned girl
views dark July
days through a chador,
her body reduced
to anthracite
eyes casing the marketplace,
her spare words measured
in degrees
Fahrenheit.

Comments:




Aufwallung

Come, girl, back
to the depths.
Open that oyster,
curl your digits
around the pearl.
It is time

to climb the nitrogen
ladder, that familiar panic
rising, blood bubbling
to the surface.

Oxygen!

Limousine waves bring you,
limp from the blackout brink,
past the great lighthouse
to a lost belonging.

Comments:




Another Washington Memorial

Quilmurs, Japul, Juaneno
Wilkuts, Haglli, Chim'riko

Guanabepe, Aztalan
Hoabonoma, Salinan

Coanopa, Aguachacha
Iguanes, Bahacecha

Kivezaku, Quigyuma
Tzekupama, Sakuma

Comments:




Brinks Truck Roadkill

Predeceased by all its mourners,
here the stray was buried
at five in the afternoon.

Comments:




Lover's Will

Forget those walks, the turns we took;
these glaring trinkets won't remain:
the warming touch, the neighbour's look,
our way washed clean by autumn rain.

Forget me now, embrace the rest
of this new course, unseen, unsought,
and grant me only this request:
reserve for us your final thought.

Comments:




Christmas Tsunami, 2004

Starfish
on treetops

Comments:




Inukshuk

He laid the base stone,
shaped like two saucers
or like a clam, its lips those
of the silenced.

Soapstones came next: his
the larger, a nanook still
disguised within; hers
the smaller, a walrus
hidden in rock. On this he rested

a sheet of mica.
Their daughters stacked
two stalagmites on top.
When night swallowed

the black slate
these cave stones danced
in the rising mist
until dawn flared between them
and the family moved on.

Comments:




Ekaterinburg

In this room
the hammer rose.

In this room
the tiny anvils
waited.

In this room
of bullet and body,

in this room
of bayonet and bodice,

in this room
there was no bog
or lime.

Comments:




Paradise Has No Colonies
Rosie knows the night
is a forgiving
thing. She takes her daughter's
corner, posing just a little
further from the street

light. It's a school
night for Lynn; someone
will have the children
in bed by ten.

Comments:




Raspberries

I swear it smelled of hyacinth and mace
when Dad unlocked the door to 423.
She lay in bed, her skin cosmetic free,
the scores of age, the mask behind the face.

I tried to follow, go where photos spoke
of family, classmates, friends--and lovers too?
But now the guide, the woman no one knew,
had left this wicked stand like candle smoke.

The berries strewn about her floor were roan,
like vinyl seats on buses in the rush
uptown, like sand on skin no longer lush,
a fading story told before my own.

Comments:





By George!

Yo soy un hombre sincero

Bush said the prisoners at Guantánamo were treated fairly and rejected as absurd the description of it as a gulag.

"I will tell you that we treat these prisoners in accordance with international standards," he said.

De donde crecen las palmas

The date palm forest lining the Shatt al-Arab estuary in Iraq is the largest in the world. In 1975 the date palm belt - shown dark red - was thriving but by 2002, the pallid colour indicates dead vegetation. The UN estimates war, pests and salt have destroyed 14 million palms.

Y antes de morirme quiero

"War does not determine who is right--only who is left." - Bertrand Russell

Echar mis versos del alma

Last week, the Bush administration forced Newsweek to back off a story about the desecration of Korans at Guantánamo after it provoked demonstrations, riots and more than a dozen deaths in Afghanistan.

Allegations include having a guard dog carry the Koran in its mouth, guards scrawling obscenities inside Korans, kicking Korans across the floor, urinating on the Koran, ridiculing the Koran, walking on the Koran, and tearing off the cover and throwing the Koran into trash or dirty water.

Mi verso es de un verde claro

George W. Bush, upon taking office in 2001, immediately began a systematic withdrawal from major international treaties to which the US was a signatory. As part of that policy, on May 7th, 2002 Donald Rumsfeld informed the Secretary General of the UN that the US was officially withdrawing from the International Criminal Court (ICC).

Y de un carmin encendido

The military brushed off the Red Cross's complaints when they were made, just as it did at Abu Ghraib. Yesterday, Lawrence Di Rita, a spokesman for Mr. Rumsfeld, said the Red Cross had "their point of view," which was not shared by the Bush administration. The Red Cross's point of view, however, is reflected in the Geneva Conventions and in American law.

Mi verso es un ciervo herido

During confirmation hearings, the Senate Judiciary Committee should press Mr. Gonzales about why he signed off on two legal opinions that justified torture and claimed that Mr. Bush could suspend the Geneva Conventions whenever he liked.

Que busca en el monte amparo

The White House, the Pentagon and the Justice Department clearly have no intention of addressing the abuse. Indeed, Mr. Bush has nominated one of the architects of the administration's prisoner policy, the White House counsel Alberto Gonzales, to be attorney general. The general who set up the system at Guantánamo is now in charge of prisons in Iraq.

Con los pobres de la tierra

"These are the things that make Iraqis pick up a weapon and want to kill American soldiers," said Ribahi, 32, sipping sweet tea at a Baghdad coffeehouse Friday evening.

Quiero yo mi suerte echar

Under its agreement with the United States government, the Red Cross is allowed access to the detention facilities at Guantánamo and may interview each detainee. In exchange, the Red Cross agrees that it will not make public any criticisms but will relay them only to the government.

El arroyo de la sierra

In one case, a guard's urine splashed through an air vent on to a prisoner and his Quran.

Me complace mas que el mar

"We certainly don't think it's torture," General Myers said. "Let's not forget the kind of people we have down there," he said. "These are the people that don't know any moral values."

Comments:




Embracing Arms II: Business End

I envy you your quiet sleep
but I have gone where promise lies
in shadowed doorway, castle keep,
the shallow drains of orphans' eyes.

I've gone to where the prophet lost
disciples to the fear we've sold
and then, at business end, I've washed
the blood away with beer and gold.

Like you those days and nights are past;
these digits say I must retire
to memoirs, pensions, myths that last,
still drawing comfort from the fire.

Comments:




The Evolution of Buffalo Wings
(with apologies to Robert Service, Derek Edwards and the reader)

We've done strange things for buffalo wings
as the men who broil them told
of crossing genes but such queer scenes
can still make your blood run cold.
While others slept the bison crept
up behind the poultry flock
that had crossed the old roads for new abodes
and were heard to cry "BGKAWK!"

Comments:




Tecumseh
(aka "Shooting Star" or "Panther that Crouches in Wait")

You, Canadian? The greatest
American? You fought to be neither,
but nor were you panther
that crouches in wait. You were egret,
your feet in the mud as you stood
above weeds. Both

your fathers would leave you
to war. Brock would say no more
valorous warrior exists. Sure
as apple trees bud, the pleas
of a peacemaker can't be imparted
while even your traplines
have got to be guarded. Time

is gravity, a shooting star descending. Time
is charity; too soon you'll see it ending.

The cities were the bellows of the wind
that blew at Prophetstown,
across the rivers,
over you. Gray wolves surround the egret.
Foxes slink
away, their turn tail coats the colour of your blood.

You'd say: "Sing your death song and then die
like a hero returning home." Yours was the song
of that egret, your life
like a burning poem.

Comments:




Un Drapeau pour Trudeau

Once again he has made us
accept something better
denied: one more rose
on his breast before infinite moments
alone, one more snowfall to face.
It is just
as old Rex
eulogized:
he has gone
to his grace,
leaving us
so much less
of our own.

Comments:




Wintakan Eulogy

We've come to where eternity
begins, its gateway arched.

Another drop flows out to sea
and leaves the land more parched.

Comments:




NFL Villanelle

The Buffalo Bills, behind by thirty two,
began with Davis diving from the one
to rise with Reich beyond where banners flew.

A toss to Donald Beebe soon would do
to build on where this comeback had begun:
the Buffalo Bills, behind by thirty two.

The three to Reed inspired the surging crew
to strive beneath the waning winter sun
to rise with Reich beyond where banners flew.

Del Greco tied the game. The tension grew
as overtime decided who had won.
The Buffalo Bills, behind by thirty two?

When Stephen Christie kicked the winner through
the Bills had edged the Houston run-and-gun
to rise with Reich beyond where banners flew.

For years to come in memories we'll review
the tale of what this hallowed squad has done:
the Buffalo Bills, behind by thirty two,
will rise with Reich beyond where banners flew.


Comments:




Looking for Lorca

When Andalusian dogs don't bark
Granada nights are calm, like this.
No Cante Jondo violins
call gypsy spirits. Caught in flight,
no butterfly denies its mark.
There are no New York trains to miss.
Havana lingers. Franco wins
no prize beyond
this candle light.

Let five years pass before we speak
of nightingales among these birds.
You sang as if to mourn the sun
that sank at five this afternoon.
No lovers stray, no blood can leak
from sutured scars or silphion words,
but here between the things undone
I like to think
I found your moon.

Comments:




Isoroku's Death Poem

I have no face
to show the living
god, nor have I words
to speak to families of comrades
who are gone. Beneath this sod
old proverbs fade into homilies.

My body's not of iron
but with iron will I will drive
deep into the enemy camp. I'll leave
this humble soldier's blood
to spill as sparks and streaks of light
escape this lamp.

So wait a while, young warriors. Here,
beneath the empire's sun, beneath the empress moon
I'll fight this farewell battle
and I'll follow you
on your petal-strewn path
someday soon.

Comments:




Talking with Woods on a Frosty Evening
Co-authored with Dennis Hammes

Whose woods are these? I think I know.
He plays at Rolling Valley, though.
He'll never see me swinging here
where scores decline and stories grow.

My caddy thinks it's downright queer:
we play without the crowds that cheer
and then correct each dumb mistake
before we drink another beer.

He gives the pin a little shake,
But I will take the time I take.
The bunker's wide, the green is steep;
the dogleg runs along the lake.

The water's lovely, dark and deep
but I have balls I care to keep
and holes to go before I weep,
and holes to go before I weep.

Comments:




First Name:

Last Name:

Important!
Your Email Address:

Your comments will be emailed to you.

Ward's Rules of Poetry

1. Never say anything in a poem that you wouldn't say in a bar.
2. If you can't be profound be vague.
3. Learn the difference between poetry and hebephrenia.
4.
McNeilley Dictum #4
Cut off the last line! This will make your poem better!
(If this doesn't work, keep cutting off the last line.)
5. Sloganeering is about what you said and how you said it.
Poetry is about how you avoided saying it.
6. Poetry lies between synonyms.
7. The difference between self-expression and communication is poetry.
8. If you can't spell a word don't use it.
9. Bad poetry haunts the writer.
Good poetry haunts the reader.
10. Don't express. Evoke.
11. Technique is the difference between a good story and a good poem.
12. The trick isn't to avoid being understood.
The trick is to be understood too quickly.
13. If it doesn't sound like poetry to a Lower Slobovian it isn't.
14. Every modern poem must contain at least one em dash abuse.

Comments:





Back to the Ward's Home Page
Take the Poetry Test
Out to "Nebula" (Ken Stange's Poetry "screenzine")
Over to The Book of Trolls
Out to Leonard Cohen Links
On to the Songs Page (Lyrics & chords of Colin's songs)
On to "In the Shade" (Colin's novel)
Email Dave W. Mitchell to order "Talus and Scree".
Comments? Email us!


If your computer has sound capabilities you have been listening to "Witch of the Westmoreland" by the pride of Canada, Stan Rogers, as sung on his wonderful "From Fresh Water" album.

You are visitor #

since July 16th, 2002.