April is National Poetry Month. We’ve invited readers from across the Central Coast to share their best original poems dealing with self-identity and diversity.
Here is a sampling of the poems. We will be posting new poems at sanluisobispo.com/entertainment/books throughout the month.
By John Rollefson, San Luis Obispo
The sky’s begun to drip
As I sit here savoring the
Late afternoon sunshine.
I wasn’t expecting this gift,
An outburst of silent weeping,
Hinted evidence of a mysterious
Sadness, gracious but unexpected
~ ~ ~
“On Bishop’s Peak”
By Chris Cooper, San Luis Obispo
That day we walked on Bishop’s Peak,
my sister took a profile photo of me.
Almost a stereotyped poet: half-mask
of tousled hair, cloudy hills behind me,
brooding set to my jaw and cheek.
A late-winter smell of new grass, green
and breathing from wet roots, was all about us.
Her bared arms reminded me of swans, though
her face and hair made me think of a duck.
I smiled at that and she smiled back, not
knowing why but sharing the earned pleasure
of siblings, our long love and reckoning of
each other, the little anniversaries of shared days.
~ ~ ~
By Sarah Newfield-Green, Grover Beach
I drive toward a white moon
The tangerine sun
can alter one’s perception in a little beach town
~ ~ ~
“The End of Drought”
By Mari O’Brien, San Luis Obispo
Rain is falling steadily.
The parched tapestry of blade and leaf
Arches almost imperceptibly
Toward the gift from above
My dog has mellowed contentedly at my feet
She dozes in the circle
Of my new love
Trusting me in new ways
Returning in her fashion
The devotion lavished on her for so many years.
My desire for you emanates from me
In sinuous tendrils
Curling and arching and spiraling
In time to music
To eclectic riffs
Melodies, harmonies, and words
That so reflect our essences
Alone and together
I rejoice in cadence with the Earth
Refreshed by mid-fall deliverance
~ ~ ~
“My Lava Flow”
By Nan J. Cole, San Luis Obispo
Bubble, burst, blast, flow.
My blaze is contained by the Earth that has let me grow.
I glow and go with the waves and contours of the soil below.
Meander and cool in the wind that tempers my moves.
Destruction, eruption, rejuvenation, creation.
A pattern of existence that remains ever-changing.
I trust, I must believe that my remains will breed love.
To nourish and fuel life to our future world.
Restoring beauty and richness to a land needing forgiveness.
Compassion through transformation.
Birthing bounty to our Earth worth reclaiming.
~ ~ ~
By James Lockshaw
In the beginning, there was only gravity.
It was like an invisible fog
In a quantum universe.
There was nothing for it to cling to.
Then came the “LITTLE BANG”.
Gravity started to convert into ghost particles
And other forms of matter and energy
Things it could coalesce with.
As the universe became dimpled with matter and energy
The gravity fog thinned
And the conversion slowed.
Dimples joined making larger and larger matter deposits,
Which eventually collapse into black holes
Where gravity reigns.
In the black hole the matter-energy
Is converted back to gravity
And evaporates back into the fog.
You ask “What is gravity?”
~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~