Silverweed's Little Book



In the great tradition of Silverweed and Hyzenthlay, I, Rabbit-of-the-Sun, would like to scratch my name upon the scroll of Lapine poets. Here you will find my poetry archives, as well as links to some pieces of short fiction of which I am the author. I hope you will see something in them, and perhaps when you leave your mark before poking your head back out into the sunlight on the Down, you'll tell me what you think. Olive, my muse, would be grateful for any commentary you might have to offer.


" ... In autumn the leaves come blowing, yellow and brown.
They rustle in the ditches, they tug and hang on the hedge.
Where are you going, leaves? Far, far away
Into the earth we go, with the rain and the berries.
Take me, leaves, O take me on your dark journey.
I will go with you, I will be rabbit-of-the-leaves,
In the deep places of the earth, the earth and the rabbit ..."


--Silverweed, Richard Adams, Watership Down



Choose Your Collection:



Poems in The Pipkin Collection:

  • Alice Had Only To Wake

  • Weasel-Boy's Last Stand

  • Pelicula

  • Long, Brown Friends

  • The Empty Dictionary Box

  • A Stitch In Time

  • Four Hours For All Souls

  • The Marble Tower



    ALICE HAD ONLY TO WAKE
    
    T'was brillig, as I left the Parking Lot,
    and hot--
    The shining steering wheel was like a Curling Iron,
    the tire on
    The pavement rolled until it bumped the Yellow Line,
    all the time
    my Flesh-tipped Fingers dancing on their frying pan post,
    for most
    The thought of Pausing off-handedly by the roadside pales
    when compared to getting Home--
    So I drove There on my fingernails.
    


    WEASEL-BOY'S LAST STAND
    
    The chair was empty, starred,
    and spilled with light--
    too obvious a target
    for the slight
    boy
    who had shaken
    when he had heard
    "Is this seat taken?"
    And he filled it--warm, unscarred.
    


    PELICULA
    
    I tried to pretend it wasn't a 
    Movie,
    But that kind of thing is more
    Raisin-like 
    Than one might
    Suspect.
    I tried to pretend it wasn't
    Spanish,
    But the best kind of
    Cows
    Wear blue-copper bells,
    And are
    Black and white--
    Jerseys,
    Is it?--
    So, 
    Las Vacas
    Parade in front of the
    Cameras,
    The man with the brown
    Felt
    Hat has hangers for shoulders,
    And I have become
    The Milkwoman.
    


    LONG, BROWN FRIENDS
    
    I know what sidewalks love.
    They love worms when it's
    Raining,
    And the walkers that play
    Hopscotch
    To keep from squishing them--
    Because they really do love their
    Worms
    When it's raining.
    And they feel very lucky
    in the Summer
    when the ants come and
    Tickle
    Their surfaces
    Because sidewalks get
    Lonely,
    you know.
    But their favorites are the
    Worms
    Because it's cold, and the walkers don't
    come out much
    when it's
    Raining.
    


    THE EMPTY DICTIONARY BOX
    
    I can say I have slept like a
    Log;
    Last night--and my little, white
    Dog
    Was there with me to
    Crouch
    Between my stiffened branches.  The
    Couch
    Seemed intent on one
    Goal.
    As it bowed to my fiberous weight, a
    Hole
    Opened slowly beneath us to
    Swallow
    Us into its springy depths and
    Hollow
    Upholsterédness.  Damp dog smell as I'm
    Sinking
    And all the while woodenly
    Thinking--
    To a discordant ticking of
    Clocks--
    Of waterbed leaks and that empty dictionary
    Box.
    


    A STITCH IN TIME
    
    every time he strikes the clock
    my temples ache, ahead
    of me in line he walks
    with his novel--blue and read
    a thousand times, it seems
    more ancient than a sun dial
    yet newer than a baby's dreams,
    in the garden i can hear him for a mile,
    he shouts the volume loud in the evening air--
    i only check my watch and stitch another row
    my eyes shut tight but my ears open, the pair
    of them trembling as i guide my needle and so
    get one thread closer to midnight
    sitting behind the dreadful, tangled lock
    on his diary, my once-brown hair feels tight
    and i continue mending to the steady tick and tock.
    


    FOUR HOURS FOR ALL SOULS
    (first line courtesy of Wallace Stevens' Disillusionment of Ten O'clock)
    
    The houses are haunted,
    From the moment the hands reach the twelves--
    Gossamer Ghosties and grab-apple Goblins
    All over the kitchens sit swing-legged from counters and shelves.
    
    The houses are haunted,
    When are heard the right number of bongs--
    In the dressing rooms thread-bare, sad Beasties
    Are modeling silk robes and wrap-skirts and trying on thongs.
    
    The houses are haunted,
    When twelve times the pendulums rub--
    The washrooms are teeming with hollow-eyed Fishes
    And white-dusted Crocodiles float and blow bubbles in each pretty porcelain tub.
    
    The houses are haunted,
    But just 'til the tickers tock four--
    Then Ghosties and Goblins and Beasties and Fishes
    And Crocodiles pack up and exit respectably through each unopened front door. 
    


    THE MARBLE TOWER
    
    (for Annie)
    
    She struggled in the Shavings to her knees,
    But time and toil and effort did not matter--
    She'd carve her monument to catch the lofty breeze
    Though hearty hefts of marble round her legs did Softly shatter.
    
    She clutched her chisel in her Delicate grip,
    And to her sense the marble seemed as Sweet Perfume--
    And from her tool and Tiny hand did Slip
    Great chunks of Powdery marble like a snowstorm in the gloom.
    
    And when her high endeavor was complete,
    And stood as if to beautify and dominate the sky--
    It met with an unseasonable summer shower of sleet
    And as she watched the Water Washed Away her tower of Lye.
    



    Poems in The Blackberry Collection:

  • The Void

  • Closing the Distance

  • The Spring of My Content

  • Spring Storm

  • Freeway

  • Writing

  • Halibut

  • Neighborhood Bouquet

  • A Pause on Campus



            THE VOID
    
    is a land all in itself...
    A world the fog prefers, the
    sunset's favorite haunt...
    trees wait dreaming along its
    Winding Way...
    followed by the Moon in Mist
    	 and
    Will-o'-the-wisps...
    blue and elusive, flickering
    through the darkening Trees
    to Cornfields holding
    nighttime secrets...
             whispering
    what was never put to words
    and wondering
    about Great Shadowy Shapes
    standing
             silhouetted
    In the oncoming lights, breathing
    out great gusts of silvery Air
    and
             waiting
    For the next Traveler to pass.
    


    CLOSING THE DISTANCE As I went singing Along The Void today-- (Two whirring black Wheels And a light Frame Under me)-- Your image ringing In my mind...It may Be stirring--(my back Feels Warmth)--that my sight Came Clear--free... And the great distance Seemed to recede-- Fold Back a bit-- (The breeze runs along My arms)-- The wall withdrew... In one revealing glance You were close enough to need, Hold-- And it Left me--(lone among The little farms)-- With thoughts of you...


    THE SPRING OF MY CONTENT
    
    Close to four o'clock
    My eyes came open,
    And
    I was aware of my hand
    On my book,
    The imprint of the cushion tassle
    On my cheek,
    And my warm, clean laundry--
    Lying at my feet.
    He must have layed it there,
    While I was closed in
    Sleep.
    He must have needed the dryer.
    


    SPRING STORM My mind was clouded pleasantly with Sleep When it became aware of him... Deep Within a corner--it was the sad music He Had given me, not he himself, but Me Remembering. And I thought about The Sweater I had held close to me at night, A Sweater he had let me borrow. And How My cold, bare arms could almost feel it Now...


    FREEWAY
    
    Somebody's white shirt
    is gray--
    and caked with grime--
    on the black road
    Next to the cardboard
    Box
    With a hole in it.
    I love that hole
    because
    The box
    Is smashed
    and spattered with tire marks--
    but inspite of all the
    Duct tape
    There is that
    Hole.
    That beautiful hole--
    just big enough to let
    Life
    Out.
    


    WRITING The pen feels good in my hand, And I have taken off my slippers again. My fingers smell of the copper-wire rim of my notebook, And my bare feet feel cold against my bare legs, But I am in the best place. It is a quarter 'til five o'clock. Outside there is sudden snow on the roof, Sparkling on my west window, Drifting down in great flakes from the white Sky. My fingernails are smooth and clean and shiny, My skin has a copper glow. I can feel every muscle in my body--just resting, but there--strong. My head is tilted to one side so that my hair curls softly over my left shoulder. There is nothing like the feeling of one's own hair on one's shoulder. I am writing. My mouth tastes of sleep. My eyes are dreamy. I am writing, and--just now-- There is nothing else I could really do.


    HALIBUT        
    
    That was what we ate
    The night
    The chain-link fence went
    Iradescent
    In the fading light
    And you invited Fate
    
    To sip summer wine
    At our table.
    While the lawn glowed green,
    Serene
    Was I, and able
    To decline.


    NEIGHBORHOOD BOUQUET The summer night was Mardigras-- Or it might as well have been. Each face wore a mask, And each displayed a grin. Light spilled from the window That blinked above the garage, And fell upon the flowerbeds-- A fragrant, bright mirage Emerging out of darkness And lush grass to meet her hands. Upstairs the icecream melted as She laughed and brushed stray strands Of golden hair behind her ears. He liked them, those ears. White And small and softly Lit with midnight moonlight. The Noise Garage was left behind, The streets loomed warm and still-- Electric with the silence--and they ducked Among them--stooped under a window sill, A porch light--and came away with tulips, White alyssums, columbine, And daffodils. They crept, They watched, they stopped to dine On honeysuckle and once or twice Were almost caught in an Accusing streetlight. The pavement Echoed as they ran. Three times he almost took her hand-- Her eyes had seemed to ask. The summer night was Mardigras-- But no one wore a mask.


    A PAUSE ON CAMPUS		
    
    (with apologies to Alfred, Lord Tennyson)
    
    My knee rests lightly on my literature book...
    My thoughts swing gently on the September breeze
    	and a title for my latest poem.
    The evening is falling softly with the sun
    	and my eyes fall to the blue-lined page in my notebook...
    Should it be "Quiet" or "Silence"?
    	Quiet fits it best, I think.
    Out of silence comes a strain of airy music
    	and I recognize it--
    	and I slide from my bench onto my two feet--
    	and I face north, I think.
    It starts with a bugle call, forgive me, but it is like
    "The horns of Elfland faintly blowing" in my startled ears--
    	and everyone recognizes it--
    	and everyone stops and stands a little taller--
    	and everyone faces north.
    Its "echoes roll from soul to soul", connecting us for a
    	moment...
    And when the notes have finished and are "dying, dying, dying"
    	in the cooling air
    The students come to life again, I sink onto my bench and smile
    Slowly, dreamily.  I have forgotten about my title, and am writing
    	another poem.
    



    Poems in The Hazel Collection:

  • The Evening Falls

  • 26°

  • Fryday

  • The Ivory Children

  • Evil Altitude

  • Sleeping

  • The Living Game

  • Chemistry

  • Elephant Thoughts

  • Vantagepoint

  • Grill



    THE EVENING FALLS
    
    It's like the darkness, protective...
    Is it?
    No shield to cover soft flesh,
    Exquisite
    Eyes, the rise And fall of fear in
    Greyness.
    Pressed side-eyed in the shadow--
    Dayless--
    Footfalls on the stair, in the
    Hallways,
    Disappearing Around A corner,
    Always
    Silence...hushed fluttering like A
    Sparrow...
    Is he drawing back the
    Arrow?
    All is moonless, still, the
    Same.
    Quiet...is he taking
    Aim?


    26°
    
    gloved in black leather
    my hands grip the handle
    of the ice scraper
    like the cold grips
    me
    and the darkness of early
    early
    morning wraps my white skin
    like my hands are wrapped
    gloved in black leather
    and as the dark, white ice
    snows and makes white powder
    on my hands
    gloved in black leather
    under the pressure of the scraper
    i see myself
    a gray ghost of myself
    watching myself work
    from the dark, glassy, innerworld
    of the window
    straight faced and spook eyed
    it is me all right
    the dark cloud of hair circles
    my face
    like my hands
    gloved in black leather
    


    FRYDAY
    
    They sit across from me--
    My two friends--
    And their faces are so warm,
    So alive.
    
    They sit across from me--
    Their conversation tends
    To make a wall--to perform,
    Arrive
    
    In a shimmering case--
    Removed--
    And surrounded with
    Exclusive music.
    
    In a shimmering case--
    Approved.
    I'm Jane Doe, John Smith.
    And too sick
    
    Inside as I watch--
    With smiling eyes--
    To admit that I assented.
    And I'm prone--
    
    Inside as I watch--
    To sympathize
    While I am empty, dented,
    Crowded--and alone.


    THE IVORY CHILDREN
    
    I heard the children laughing
    And looked back
    To see a black-eyed, smiling crowd
    Dressed--not in black--
    In freshly ironed white so loud
    It made a roaring in my ears--
    But all the rest was silence.  Me,
    The wrought-iron fence, the frozen ground,
    The children, and a leafless tree
    Were all touched by the stillness, the sound
    That did not flank the gentle wind
    Around our ankles, the absent shuffle
    Of the greying leaves around our feet.
    My eyes detected movement--caught the ruffle
    In the blinding whiteness of their neat
    Coats, their pearl buttoned shirts; the quivering
    Sheen that indicated movement of their vests.
    I sickened as my wonder fell away in part--
    For then I understood the swollen rising of their chests--
    The hungry eyes were fastened on my heart.


    EVIL ALTITUDE
    
    From this height
    I de-emphasize 
    Doors...
    In the grey light
    The apple
    Cores
    
    Dance, and grow
    Wings
    On their purple
    Skins.  The crow
    Sings
    With empty eyes--
    
    "A pretty kill,"
    I think,
    Without
    Reflection--Surreal
    In streetlight flame.
    Doubt
    
    Collects the dust
    That
    Fills the window frame.
    The anchor drowns the Musk-
    Rat
    In the silver sink
    
    At dawn.  "A clever
    Kill," rooftops might
    Sigh,
    "Wet fur could never
    Take to
    Sky."
    
    With desert skin I stand--
    My
    Shoulderblades feel new
    And cold--and
    I 
    Prepare for flight...
    


    
    SLEEPING
    
    The lake was iradescent
    In the early light
    Of moon;
    Proof of night
    Was offered silently--
    The afterlight of noon
    Had long subsided
    To the silver spray
    Of stars
    That crowned the bay
    With summer brilliance.
    Smooth and dark the
    Waves became again
    In the wake of a
    Disturbance--
    No human eye to see
    The trembling, opal sheen
    That passed across her eyelids
    In the green
    Of the water--
    The gentle winds still
    Rippling on the
    Surface
    Did not touch her
    Coiled hair, now
    Seaweed wreathed;
    Her dreams were not
    Affected by
    The glint of emerald
    Scales
    That might have caught her
    Eye, had she
    But breathed.
    


    THE LIVING GAME
    
    "To the person in the bell jar,
    blank and stopped as a dead baby,
    the world itself is the bad dream."
    
    --Sylvia Plath
    
    I wake from my
    Dreams
    To my
    Living Nightmare. . .
    
    And up through the
    Seams
    Comes the
    Syrup, the sink hair;
    
    The pacing a-
    Round
    With a
    Pasted on smile;
    
    The mirrors crash
    Down,
    And crash
    With that beautiful style
    
    That takes breath away--
    Chases
    Air away--
    And leaves the lungs flat.
    
    And the porcelain
    Faces
    Stay porcelain,
    Fragile, and matte--
    
    With their pretty mouths
    Sewn
    Like the mouths
    Of  bean bags and rag dolls.
    
    I cover my ears from the
    Drone
    And the
    Guillotine falls. . .
    


    CHEMISTRY
    
    "The first one," he says, "Is for you."
    
    But I'm only breathing,
    And eight nighttimes
    Seething 
    
    In darkness, or crying.
    My cat-light's gone out but
    The spark press is drying
    
    Your eyes--
    Never mine--
    As it flies
    
    Taking streetlights and porchlights
    And nightlights,
    So bright lights
    
    Can't harm tender skin,
    Or wide eyes.
    I am safety and blackpepper gin.
    
    And you're nothing but pride
    In your cucumber silence.
    Have you tried
    
    Super-waiting?
    It's more than I like, yet
    I've been here debating
    
    With Bluemoon and Roofie and Book-In-My-Hand,
    But they never felt all the warmth--
    Never can.
    
    And I know with my pen
    What I'll do.
    
    "The first one," he says, "Is for you."
    


    ELEPHANT THOUGHTS
    
    It best reminds me
    In the afterglow of dusk
    Of that bustling city--
    The rain that finds it must
    
    Fall in grey puddles on
    The nickel street;
    The light of dawn
    As cold and void of heat
    
    As any winter night.
    And though I know it's crowded,
    I always think of twilight
    There as silent, clouded,
    
    Full of only moon,
    And me--in navy blue--
    Sitting all alone
    With ghosts of you.
    


    VANTAGEPOINT
    
    From the porch
    I watch them easily--
    The torch
    Of streetlight
    
    Rests like gold
    On eyelash tips,
    and lips fold
    back in smiles
    
    That harbor mysteries.
    The dust of twilight
    Blankets trees
    And covers sound
    
    In silence.  Shadowed streets
    In summer glamour
    Glow with heat
    As night and secrets
    
    Slowly veil my eyes
    In grey.
    It's moonrise,
    And I slip away.
    


    GRILL
    
    “Bald as a billiard cue,”
    She said.
    But a cue is a long stick,
    And this man’s head
    Was round
    And stretched with flesh.
    He arranged on the table
    The plates of fresh
    Lettuce and morsels
    Of succulent meat,
    Dripping in honey-mustard.
    We paused to eat.
    And I was trying to be good.
    Because at home
    I would have been.
    And the pink dome
    Of the waiter’s head returned.
    And I was trying to be good,
    And I thought of myself
    At the cutting board--as I had stood
    So many times--
    Rinsing it over and over in hot
    Water.  But this was not home.
    There was too much air conditioning, caught
    Between the polished table
    And the cut-glass lamp.
    And the low light was hungry,
    And my napkin was crumpled and damp.
    



    All Original Poems Copyright ©1997 by Rabbit-of-the-Sun


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