OVATION FOR OVID

Ovid’s birthday today, that crafty Roman

poet mainly known for “Metamorphoses”,

tracing world history from creation

to Julius Caesar. But let me praise, please,

his “Ars Amatoria” – The Art of Love --

showing me how to find a woman, or

woman how to win a man. Gods above!

His simple guide still in play for lovers!

Don’t forget her birthday. Never ask your date

her age. Let her miss you…but not too long. Then

after you fight, “making up, but in private”.

Simultaneous orgasm. Hey, man!

Who needs Kinsey or Alex Comfort? Give

me an ancient Roman to learn how to live!

 

Roger Armbrust

March 20, 2023

 

TULIPS

You want to cup them in your hands, don’t you,

their layered petals inviting caress.

Their colors rainbow-varied, rich, as if viewed

only by royalty, fabric to dress

a queen. Their name derives, it seems, from

a Persian word for “turban”. You see it,

don’t you, how it wraps the stem’s head. How red

ones respond to sun like an open heart.

There in the garden, your open heart and

arms caress your daughter like a bouquet

of flowers. I recall a distant land

long ago, embracing my daughter that way.

She was younger then than your Grace, our smiles

at ease, unaware what precious memories.

 

Roger Armbrust

March 18, 2023

CRITICAL RACE THEORY

Victors write the history we’re told

which has been a fact

which doesn’t make the history a fact.

Now victims are writing history

thanks to laws and technology

and victors are yelling that it’s not fact.

Critical Race Theory they call it:

Marketing term so far from fact

they feel they’re safe.

But feelings aren’t facts.

The fact is they feel

if they’re not victors they’re victims.

And that’s not fact.

The fact is they fear

Integration:

an action so natural

to evolution

of civilizations

like two parts hydrogen

to one part oxygen

creating water.

Roger Armbrust

November 4, 2021

THE REAL KEY

Been arranging poetry manuscripts.

Thought I had four to send Ted, my old friend

and publisher. I have seven. See, it’s

the Muse, not me. She’s the angel who sends

inspiration, rhythms, imagery. She’s

the one who turns the grand woman I see

into muse or memory. When she’s pleased

she smiles. Sometimes I see it. Sometimes we

just sit in silence. She lets me decide.

Those are the toughest moments. Yet splendid.

Chet Baker’s singing on Pandora. “I

get along without you very well.” Shit.

We all know that’s a lie. Ah. Here comes the real key:

Tony’s crooning, “They can’t take that away from me.”

Roger Armbrust

May 4, 2021

THE LAST QUIET PLACE ON EARTH

No not in Marble Canyon where rippled

rock resembles melting chocolate and

vanilla…not Markarfljot’s streaked, crippled

glacial river…uninhabited land

barren black and bordered like honeycomb

in Bolivia…nor in deep crystal

meltwater of Antarctica…just come

with your spirit to that invisible

place beneath my brainstem…celestial light

calming my breathing, eye movement, frail

body balance…now you know why at night

when I grow silent…when I stare and fail

to move…seem not there…the Muse…you see…schemes…

turns your words to insight…leads me to dream…

Roger Armbrust

September 18, 2020

“NEVERTHELESS”

Listening to KLRE and George

Pelecis’s “Nevertheless”…strings high…

performing emergency heart surgery…

marrying intricate piano…just why

they make me cry must deal with memory…

that title central to it all…defined

as “in spite of”… “notwithstanding”… you see

how it melds like memory… the divine

result… in spite of what happened…in spite

of her leaving…notwithstanding heartbreak…

comes forth creative spirit…sacred light

of poetry…to survive…what it takes

to thrive in spite of…utter devastation…

What happened to him…to fire inspiration?

 

Roger Armbrust

September 13, 2020

AT THIS MOMENT

At this moment I stand in sun beside

the oak…no cars passing…no mute people

walking by…the tree and I in sun…ride

slight breeze I pretend is flight…past steeple

and tower…wonder of what power we

possess when we close our eyes…feel slight breeze…

I once thought of leaping off a cliff…free

of fear…of responsibility…ease

of giving up all…but I didn’t…Think

of what I’d have missed…slight breeze…flight…sunlight…

think of how much love’s potential would sink

into nothing...lover’s glance unseen…a slight

to faith and hope…I pray for end to wildfires

out West…pray they transcend to peace…to desire…

 

Roger Armbrust

September 12, 2020