Tuesday, April 2, 2013

NaPoWriMo: J. Eric Laing

April is National Poetry Writing Month. In celebration of poets everywhere, and to encourage those who are just embarking on their literary journey, I will be posting poetry (not mine) each day for the month of April. Please take a look and enjoy this special art.

J. Eric Laing

J. Eric Laing was born and raised in the South but now lives in New York City with his wife and their two wonderful boys.

He is the author of five novels: Cicada (general fiction), Seep (horror), The Night Watch (thriller), Scissors & Tweed (young adult), and The Crooked Man's Mile (general fiction), as well as a collection of short stories simply titled Shorts.

Mother’s Eve 
Smelling like minnows, 
Dungarees hang on little limbs 
Muddy head to tooth, 
Breathing honey breath 
Because, young, they can. 

Still plump with their moment, 
Woman plays behind 
Naked prints leading to the tub 

In a path of love and giggles. 
She seeks, cherubs hide. 
And when found out, 
All three chocolates dipped. 
Held by the heel and healed. 

Licked until shiny, 
Clean as the mantle clock, 
The babes soon sleep tight as clams. 

Father Fishing 

Both mechanisms creaking, 
Reel and bones, 
My old man of the river and sea 
Forever shines above my dumb hook. 

Dried Sparrows 

Where have the winter children gone? 
Their laughter withered with spring, 
Thawed damp on dry lips. 

When will the crisp air drown again? 
So much like flies stuck in honey, 
Sweet deep breaths at last. 

Old enough to never have been, 
Each to each nothing ever gives. 
Not a parting kiss, nor embrace of wit. 

The years now we’ll stack neatly, 
Corners creased and folded over, 
Like so many boxes of dried sparrows. 
When the Circus Came to Town 

How oddly every child smiled 
When the high-wire broke and the funny fat clown 
Tumbled and tumbled down. 

For, rushing to his demise, 
His lips twisted up for the night’s first time 
As he broke both neck and frown. 

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