A FAMILY LANDSCAPE - poetry chapbook
by Richard L. Provencher The enclosed 30 poems are about relationship in families. Love and strength within men, women and children of all areas are part of this world. And I wish to portray them in every aspect of society. A Family Landscape Night sky provides a celestial necklace of diamond pin-pricks above a Cape Breton village. At home Nathan promotes his report card and dad's lobster catch, something else. Now mom lays quietly in the silence, her man asleep in the darkness, son in the next room counting blessings she does, her family a castle of dreams. Published Online April 3, 2006 The Dublin Quarterly An International Literary Review ** A Song of Love tall pine trees dark forest shivering under a cooling breeze quiet river three hands are waiting to be felt to be touched to be loved one canoe glides slowly admiring the smooth the silence i am the canoe and you and you and you three hands i touch you i feel you i love you Published 1974 Polished Pebbles A Bluewater Anthology Seeker Publishing Co., Sarnia, Ontario ** Apartment View Whew, 90 degrees by the sofa a cup of tea should cool things off perhaps another peek out the window Sally might come along for a visit or Harry, now that's a handsome man. Annie rests in her rocking chair eyes dim from a busy bowel movement medicine taking hold. Maybe she'll make a pan of cookies peanut butter, the ones hubby used to like he's gone now, two years this August sure liked Fall colours that man, and trips to Cape Breton, nice then children now far away in their own lives, grandchildren all grown up. The little old lady falls asleep in her sweet dreams. Published Online 2003 by CanCon Canadian Content Poetry ** As a Child Learns Baby footprints straddle foam-crested waves as each push of water tests her confidence mama calls be careful honey don't fall, statement of mother-love as a warm wave caresses little time to hear her voice of concern. Restless toes grasp Northumberland pebbles. Published Summer 1988 Vol. 63 #4 Canadian Author & Bookman Toronto, Ontario ISSN 0008-2937 ** At The Cottage swimmers are silhouettes at dusk that flaming stillness is everyone's sundown stare, dad's calling tie down the boat and clump across the dock, supper's waiting hurry Published Spring 1991 Tabula Rasa Magazine Volume 2, Number 2 London, Ontario ISSN 0843-9842 ** Auschwitz, a place where father lay alongside me at night. I held his hand against my face, and in the morning we arose as a family. Daytime was a prison, my arm with a number like a beast. "Is God hiding?" someone asked. "Where is the breath of mankind?" my answer. ** Bedouin thirst an impediment in a crawl of hooves across the Sahara, eyes of stars breakfast among the dunes shifting, wailing ridges of windy nudges challenging camels throaty calls streaking across the terrain, a dust storm spirals from the sky, creates a stamping on the ground it's the measure of sun's anvil. ** Below Our Fokker 100 aircraft, traffic lights crawl across the landscape of our imagination. From here we see stars of civilization, power moguls planning their next moves, a high-rise here, concrete four lane there. Such small incidents in the humanity of life. A thimble of activity in our worldly adventures. Life is much more than a stack of greenbacks or a muscle car, even a 5-bedroom penthouse. It's love. Published Online Jan 2005 Contest winner at Betterkarma.com Alexandria, VA ** Beside Dorchester, New Brunswick Behind locked doors a man walks inside a boy, and lonely heartbeats whisper loudly in the room. Children rush by, bouncy and carefree and full of beans sons and daughters, see dads here and moms and wives and lovers cry quietly. It took 1.5 hours for the journey, but 10 years in the making come and visit your new son, you said in the letter I've changed inside, really. And we came Published Spring 1987, Volume 5 Number 1 The Cormorant, Saint John Campus The University of New Brunswick ** Children of Camelot twirl cardboard swords behind winter forts, others active with wallops of snow. Brave ones prepare for a frontal assault, as King Arthur's men charged enemy forces, except today it's boys in a parking lot. An old Knight like Grandpa remembers his youth of Round Table days. Now a Nursing Home is his fortress and snowballs flung only in dreams, the past replaced with skidding wheels from his wheelchair. But memories still hear the charge of busy feet, swords swirling, snow hurling. ** Children's Aid Worker Bart's thirteen left home the other day for good, just couldn't take it anymore heard it all from mom and dad the fighting and boozing and about how expensive it is to raise kids put out his thumb early Tuesday night and his first ride took him forty miles from what used to be home now the cops are out looking, and his parents are worried and the Children's Aid worker is phoning around asking if you see this kid, tall for his age and kind of lonely, call me. Published Fall/Winter 1984 Vol. 111, No. 3-4 The American Poetry Anthology Santa Cruz, California ISBN 0-88147-008-2 ** Costa Chica, Mexico Missionaries inhabit poverty in the villages, bringing drilled water to coconut-stick houses children finally splashing in a sweet taste of life where Polaroid families dress hair combed, cheeks with smiling teeth. Yes gringos, stay here, dig more wells like those in Las Penas and El Paso. ** Country Harbour, Nova Scotia Red plastic surrounds treble hooks, silver lures teasing mackerel wary thunder of ocean on Atlantic shoreline seagulls as kites of windy nudges in feathery flight pigeons rock in jerky motions, fishermen crowding the new concrete wharf tidal movement six hours in another six out outboards continue trolling for supper, loons join ocean's spray people-watchers joking, comparing catches. Children add to the cast of characters jigging their lines, reeling in. Published Feb 2005 Northern Views Magazine New Glasgow, NS (reached 25,000 homes in Pictou and Colchester Counties, NS) ** Easter Island Eyes peer from three storied giants ancient stone men, Moais look at how the tourists gawk, cameras clicking beaches at Anakena and Ovake enjoy the laughter, white sands. Not since the Long Ears and Short Ears battled at Poike Ditch in 1680 has there been so much energy wasted. Be careful, Orongo is sleeping for now. Published 2002 Bogg Publications #72 A Journal of Contemporary Writing (An Anglo-American International Journal) ISSN: 0882-648X ** For Selwyn Saw him quiet in the corner of his train seat, just a cough once in awhile, a burp now and then. And finally the next day I looked beyond his shuffle, the way he cradled his hand. "Did you have a stroke?" my bold command. "Yes," he shyly answered. "So did I," and a friendship began. Off to Toronto to his son's wedding, from Yorkshire, "Great country this Canada. After 18 years, still too big to travel." And then a tiredness in his chatty voice, "Got to rest now," he said. As the VIA rail attendant approached, Selwyn took his pillow and winked, "Good for hiding beer farts in the night." And you know something, he was right. ** Fort Louisbourg The sentinel is happy on guard duty over the fortress. His belly is full of fish and beans and a fine woman in la maison nearby promised to meet him later. He's proud of this new land, one day he'll marry and raise strong sons, but to-day his eyes are alert for Les Anglais. They're coming to steal his dreams. Published Winter 1987 Vol. 62, No. 2 Canadian Author & Bookman Toronto, Ontario ISSN 0008-2937 ** Hidden from View We came upon a clearing in the woods a little cemetery, private in its surroundings three obelisks in a row, one in two parts, the others weathered from changing times here a young lad aged six there Adeline, only two within the family plot they rest a mom and dad and uncles too McPherson, Robertson and Dunn by name we came upon a clearing in the woods and left with thoughts a hundred years ago. Published Summer 1996 Volume 12, Number 3 THE OFFICERS' QUARTERLY York-Sunbury Historical Society, Inc. Fredericton, New Brunswick ISSN-0845-4868 ** I Do, Forever The Margaree Valley in Nova Scotia is a tease of winding twists clinging as a lover clusters of birch in crowded beauty aside the Cabot Trail highway picnics, and warm swims at Cape Tormentine kisses are lasting. Now two families join as rosebuds on the matrimonial cake decorations, sandwich tables pickles and other treats add to the occasion but first, whispers of "I do until death do us part" the sanctity of our wedding. During the night love is an arrival of enchantment and shy smiles. Sunrise embraces our blessing. ** Inside These Walls Headlights pierce the darkness past an attendant's cage rushing passengers to new appointments others clench hands in warm coats like November colours passing swiftly across the parking lot playing catch-up to friends and dinner dates they've somewhere to go a place to hide anywhere at all on the sixth floor behind hotel's curtain shy fingers peer their owner adopting the scene below no one to wait for no one to share. Published Online Feb/Mar 2004 Poems Neiderngasse ** Jo-Anne Eyes of dark glow Irises swallowing me listening heartbeat thrumping a world of books, away from life's pain and mother and dad hoping their daughter will go out and play with boys and they don't realize her world is fun and games, books are her toys. Published Winter 1985 Vol 34 No 2 Tower Poetry Society ISSN 0495-9701 Dundas, Ontario ** Life's Spiritual Banquet Our canoe discovers a feast of pleasure its sleek hull an arrow piercing the stillness of God's plan reflections shunted from stately trees where cozy cottages circle like a ring of jewels this lake created from cups of freshwater a sanctuary from grasping life, woes and errs of human contact left behind. We step up to Nature's table and absorb vegetables of beauty birthing a baby-blue sky. Ripples nudge against our fiberglas prow, thrill of a loon's lament slap of beaver tail upon the pond the curious stare of a deer. We hold firmly to these precious moments- dip of cherry wood paddle, sureness of J-strokes moving us forward to future feasts. Published Online January 2003 Utmost Christian Poets Gallery Edmonton, Alberta ** Milk Wagon Days I remember horse hooves following steamy breaths, eyes leather-protected and little boy friendships through alleys, between overstuffed garbage cans and a serenade of clinking milk bottles announcing morning deliveries. We eagerly awaited our hero to appoint one of us, hoping for a chance to be today's helper and the lucky one hopping aboard the wagon slowly clink-clanking away. Published Online August 2003 Sentinel Poetry Magazine, UK ** Momma's in the Kitchen baking biscuits and I'm in the back yard getting kindling, arthritis not a friend each time I bend, the pain reminding me eighty is no longer young, grandson gone to town some milk for my tea, nice kid best of the lot, scares me how quickly he's growing pretty soon he'll not be visiting, I won't be around for a chat, only bits of wood chips left behind, a reminder I was here a short while. ** New York City Sept 11, 2001 It's time for work, traffic heavy this AM. Burp of cereal a signal of what's to come? Elevator's crowded, coffee hot and Sally is pregnant, Big Apple's North Tower accepts another day work pile awaits, sun-bright Tower Two shimmers in glorious splendour. Then the unthinkable, from the street an imposing view, something causes an explosion. A bomb? A plane? Strumming feet are hasty on the stairwells rushing down and down, not knowing why, just moving quickly to safety all the time captive victims face flames upon top floors, aware of the crackle of approaching death cell-phones cry love to distant homes families listen in terror, sad conversations memories of precious voices, and then silence, smoke, faces raised in awe. A pair of shoes made it to ground zero escape not complete without its passenger. Published Online 2003 "In Remembrance" Best site 2002 and 2003 for 9-11 memories. ** Port Bickering Harbour, Nova Scotia A creaking scow of wooden planks and steel, our ferryboat charges proudly towards the mainland the engine's echo of power surrounds the bay onboard, tourists in Tilley hats watch from motor homes and brand name muscle cars salty water framed in busy photo lenses, where jellyfish roam as orange tendrils of tangle. We all share in that harmony sun's brilliant stare, a glowing from places in the heart Nature's casual march a parade of moments across our brow. Published Online Voices in the Roses Fall/Winter 2003 Issue 2 Volume 1-2 ** Sea Gypsies are wayfarers content to sail off the islands of Burma wanting no material things happy in their ancient rituals of handmade boats harvesting crab spearing fish gathering lobsters mussels and oysters each day a celebration of life. ** Second Time Around Left him for good this time, ma. Harold and me, we don't get along anymore. Hope you and dad don't mind. Me and the kids is coming home. Again. Published Spring 1972 Vol 47 No 3 Canadian Author & Bookman Edmonton, Alberta ** Southshore, Nova Scotia Hunched over, that dreamy stare a splendour outline against Canso's shore boy-silhouette at harbour's open mouth we share his vision, visitor-searching along the Marine Trail as seagulls pause, bleached necks colouring tide-abandoned rocks framed by an Atlantic expanse. Our car intrudes upon the winding asphalt, travels from cove to silent cove our strength renewed. Published May 1988, Vol 3, No 2 Edges, the new literary magazine Ledges Publishing Society Edmonton, Alberta ISSN 0833 0077 ** The Mennonite Melvin rises early listens to the quiet his little son curled up alongside his wife touches her lovingly the cat carefully stretches readies herself for outside adventures. He spends most of the morning preparing an abundance of 'chop' then feeds the pigs cleans the barn and walks the horses. Lunch is a restful pause then back to work tractor needs fixing Dora wants a ride into town three year old Bud cries to go for a walk a little trading with two pigs brings in needed clothing. As the day slips into early evening there is satisfaction a comfortable feeling this land, his loved ones woman and son it's all here, wipes his brow emotion eases down his cheeks. Sun is burning the western sky and shadows drift across the trees God is up there somewhere smiling. ** The Postal Worker is a jawbone of goodwill and cheerful exclamations. She's a hardy soul, behind the desk so many years, looking forward to retirement. But right now gives out facts, figures, addresses and names. "Good day, Larry" and others collecting their mail in the morning of good times. ** When the Fishermen are Gone A wooden hull bumps gently against the dock Slap of water along the shore Skim of glass upon the lake Distant hills outline the sky And in the cottage mom and dad are resting Children no longer here Now grown into careers and faraway places They remember the boat. * * * Richard L. Provencher 2008 Note: Writing poetry has always been one of life's pleasures. And I credit Raymond Souster, referred to as a "Toronto Poet" for inspiring me with his own work. We met in 1965 and introduced me to some very fine people who went on to personal fame; people like George Jonas, Michael Ondaatje, and Milton Acorn for whom I bought a cup of coffee. I learned to also write stories, then co-authored novels with my wife as I fought back from a stroke in 1999. My recovery continues. And I do hope readers will enjoy these poems. Richard enjoys writing poems; many of which have been published in Print and Online. He and his wife, Esther are also co-authors of stories and a print novel. They are "born again" Christians and very busy in their church, Abundant Life Victory International, in Bible Hill, Nova Scotia. Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |
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