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John Fox Workshop Poems
These poems were written during a workshop held in St. Paul, MN on March 27 & 28, 1999 Lead by John Fox, CPT. Six Headlines (Word Bowl Exercise) Friends cooking receive treasure Snake lifts throat Flung cup drips Streams dance dark side August Queen dissolves discrimination Wow! * * * * * * * * * * REGRET POEM An ache without a body part registers with recall; missed chances to speak our truths I checked the medicine chest in the downstairs bathroom no remedy was there no labels mentioned disembodied aches So I had to check the dictionary: "Couldn't" does not work. We both know an abundance of sufficient words. "Didn't" holds us both responsible for what's been left out. "Wouldn't" catches us both as stubborn, willful choosers. Knowing I can still find you resumes my private debate over whether, when, how. Finding this in your mailbox, my invitation to listen and compare meanings, just let me know that you know I am now ready. * * * * * * * * HAIKU You ask deep questions as if you expect answers; I don't know, either! * * * * * * * * PASSWORD HOLOGRAM Iron lace chiffon plastic velvet beads asbestos stage window bedroom shower entry theater funeral down -up shut - open private - public close - disclose shadow - sunlight cover - uncover divide - invite stop - start All options before it's finally "curtains" * * * * * * * PINE CITY, SNAKE RIVER, CABIN, RAPIDS, ROCK Mother Earth's rapids hummed me in to search You might not believe how many other rocks I picked, seeking another like this one, finding none. Symbol of layers of seasons of unevenness variety, irregularity of depths, colors compositions (like laundry it sometimes soaked) Saying: often only one sample is offered; give it your undivided attention. Buildings, rivers have several floors; we live stories between floors; floors hold special secrets. [Wm Stafford's poem says: "Sometime when the river is ice, ask me about mistakes I have made." It ends with "Whatever the river says, that's what I say."] * * * * * * PICTURE POSTCARDS (One of a hat, broom & rocker a second one of Charlie Mingus) What sort of song needs to be played: About a perfect circle straw hat on a peg patiently waiting to be chosen to protect my head knowing how reliable it could be and would be over and over and over? About a broom on a bracket never ever reciting things swept under countless rugs forgetting these in its best most forgiving way over and over and over? About a rocking chair with no odometer that's carried varied persons multiple imaginary miles within a single room over and over and over? Maybe a gentle bass rhythm capturing coverings, repeated strokes, back and forth motions perhaps a melody for strings weaving memories not requiring much of any lyric? * * * * * * *
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