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The Web Poetry Corner

Diane Klammer

of

Shaw Island, WA, US

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Morning at Shaw Island

by

Diane Klammer

Let the distant foghorn: fade
While songbirds chatter us awake
Let fiery chariots of the east: reflect
On gray expanses
Of opaque glass ocean
Let all who will: awaken
Wipe the sleep from rested eyes
Feel each sore muscle: ease
Into damp clothing
As a fire crackles in the stove
Let morning come
Let the gentle: Rumble
Of a passing boat
Drift away into distant sunshine
Let pink clouds: part
allowing golden light: to pour
Over fallen leaves
let dances of shadows
reveal rustling of diurnal creatures
As they begin
To discover new promises
Let morning come
Let the hum and bustle
Of day workers: Begin
As they gossip
Another boat in
They mingle their banter with
The song of the ferry
Let crisp cool air
Alive with salt sea fragrance
Awaken every pore as we hike along
A new day
Let morning come
To the tides of the bay
The ripple of wind
Over grassy meadows
To the trusting blossoms opening again
Their petals
To see life hidden underneath
Azure platforms
Perceiving watery diffuse light
To the gliding of the seal the eagle
The wide eyed doe
Let morning come
The days are summer long
Softening into evenings: outlined
By crimson sunsets
Bringing in the brightness of
A thousand stars
A bonfire
The island will slowly take off its colors
Put them away into cedar chests
Retreat into patchwork quilt rest
Counting on tomorrow
Knowing all who trust in sleep
That morning will come.

Crossed Wires

by

Diane Klammer

That hard plastic cradle rocks
With the receiver screaming
To be picked up
To be held.
I clutch it to my face,
Feeling its cold pliability
Pressed against my cheek.

I wonder about the outcome
Of yet another conversation.
Will your callous remarks
Mar my soul with welts of anger?
Or will your quiet longing
soothe away my tears?

How strange that our twenty four year
Union can be compressed
Through a machine,
Condensed into
A telephone conversation.

One thousand miles separate us.
a void stretched over and over
Into words of wired speech.
We do not connect.

You said you'd never leave
Before flying onto a Colorado plateau
To pursue your career:
That thing you hold most precious.

Our children and I
Remain here working on the puzzle.
All these tiny pieces need to be reassembled.
The pattern of domestic bliss
is missing.

We curse to find
What is lost
As we crawl around
This room's emptiness,

Finally I find a pair of scissors,
Start cutting
To create a facsimilie
Of what would complete this picture.

That one tiny cardboard cutout
Looks tawdry and dull
Against all those bright colors
Which don't fill in to whole.

Incomplete and off balance
I cannot stop the ringing in my ears.

For Beth

by

Diane Klammer

Summer warm as amber
Smiled intricate with wisdom
Full of ancient truth
Ran not quite
Out of breath
Before you
Had to leave
To begin
A new season.

My artist breath
Rises and falls
With autumn
Inhales strange pollen
Exhales uncertianity
Leaf by leaf.

I saw your face
In last night's
Full moon
Tuned by guitar
One note softer.

My rooms shine
Full of glass
Vacant
Of childlike laughter
Yet my voice is full
As I call
Beth.

Although years yawn
Tired ahead
Sandalwood walls
Sing with memory the promise
Of future music.

Conformity

by

Diane Klammer

I implore...and they jeer at me.
Inane. Foolish. Naive.
Mocking stares build a playpen
while their wooden laughter cages me
Into childlike anonymity.

I inform...and they point at me.
Different. Conspiring. Dangerous.
Piercing glares build a jailer's den
while their iron accusations bar me
Into sullen hostility.

So, in frustrated confusion
I surrender to conformity,
abducted by Apathy's welcoming arms
and carried amidst the silent majority.

Driving in my Sleep

by

Diane Klammer

It's beyond comprehension

that the same situation

occurs day after day

I wear my car like armor

in rush hour traffic

on the LA 405 freeway

Who would have thought

I'd be weaved in

tight and gridlocked

Uptight after

a five minute whoosh

of frantic wheels

For an instant

knowing how movement feels

Rushing

Then horns blare I

jam

against screeching tires

Brakes slam

jarring

to stop for an age

I'm trapped inside this tiny colored cage

while the afternoon sun bakes away

any remnant of twilight's cool

The day is gone

a headache is coming on

I'm sweating pale

Breathing in

this carbon monoxide cocktail

in this claustrophobic space

This is an illusion

of being alone in place

One of so many enclosed compartments

Ungloved third finger

Sign language fool

If not for the music...the musing

This experience would be

Completely crazymaking...confusing

as some no doubt are

Busy darting in and out

Of a space that isn't

They jar

Consciousness as angry bees

insist zigzagging at random

Getting nowhere

My angry fists

try to relax

planes fly over toward LAX

Aiming straight at my

Vulnerable state

Vibrating my space into pseudomotion

We must look to them like slow streams of ants

thousands of insects...a social expanse

ants and bees work as one for the many

I struggle slowly through

the many for the one

after work Sitting waiting

Cars ahead are desperate

grasping for individuality

displaying license plates saying "I'm me"

I can see how far

The line stretches

together we make a tangled ball

Tied up so tightly

we can't move at all

An angry dragon in a net fires a weapon

Starts roaring...can kill

a nation of freedom and will

is this what civilization is about?

So many of us and no way out
We project the effects
of urban misery

On those we choose

to be rejects

still I sit

I'm driving in my sleep

for the money

to survive

Becoming a tense city heap

In this union there is no strength

no movement towards

A solution

Dissolution

Tranquility?

Prelude to Nativity

by

Diane Klammer

What was it like, Mary, when those hard hearted
inkeepers turned you away from shelter, forcing you to give birth in a stable?
Were you angry? Frightened? Anxious?
Did the new straw poke sharp
through your blanket into your
back during your labor?
Did the animals make you sneeze?
Did the dust and insects leave you be?
Did the cold night air seep
into each contraction?

How did Joseph know how
to cut the cord, to keep things clean.
Did the newborn cry of the Christchild
ring like a carol in your ears?
Did the afterbirth come easy?
Did you shed tears?
Did you sleep tired and spent?
So many of these details are left out of the nativity.

If your Son, God's Son loved
you so well, why did He allow
you to give birth in a stable?
We know His kingdom was
not of this world. But what of you?
He is praised for His humble beginnings,
but in his human state, would he be too young to remember the cold?
Yet you knew the hardship
well.

Maybe knowing He was to die,
He was preparing you for
a life of sorrow He knew would come.
Maybe He bade you pay tribute
to the Indian women, the African slaves
the migrant farmers who were forced to deliver in the field
before standing to work,
thier blood staining
the corn, the grapes, the cotton.

Maybe He bade you pay tribute to the countless homeless women in places like India, China, Africa, the Americas,
who must give birth in the streets
when they themselves are so hungry, cold and weak.

Maybe even then, He gave you a glimmer
of the gift he would later give to all:
the same gift you gave-
Himself and
the pain of living.

The Art of Seeing Spring Through Snow

by

Diane Klammer

Flowers have spread masses of color
In fields and yards of other states.
In Colorado, brightly blooming pots
Of assorted annuals whisper "spring is here".

Grass begs to grow through snow
Tugging at those blankets with defiant
Green undergrowth.
Yellow composites peek out.

Larger pines with branches
Wrapped in casts
Sag under the weight
Before springing free.

The mountains cut jagged sharktooth mosaics.
Mud and windbent pines boast rugged beauty
Devoid of lush splashes of Lupine,
Mustard and Indian Paintbrush.

Yet the sky speaks a different story.
It swells dark silver, pregnant with rain
Or shows off pink pearl on purple silk
Fringed with orange.

The blue of an evening lake
Turns pottery black in its glaze
Hinting at turquoise.
The sky mingles in.

When the gentle snow flurries along
All pales white.
Within the day the storm melts brown
To snow again two days later.

Such are the moods of the season:
Vibrant blue, passionate red
White, light and soft
As a perfect snowflake on a navy coat.

The area strengthens through change,
Breathes deep into thin air
Panting wild in the scarcity of new blooms
Despite the presence of the city.

Worth but a Quarter

by

Diane Klammer

Give me quarter
From time to time
Just to prove
You know what I am worth

Two bits seem insignificant
But may mean the difference between
Trash and tranquility
Or even death and life

It brings no comfort
To admit that I am often
Not the master
Of my own destiny

Still I do my best
And at times can shout pride
About my work
The way I am able to love

If you cannot stop much to help
Slow down to regard
Give me space
Between each intrusion

Catching a Poem

by

Diane Klammer

Write it down before it flies
That germinal idea
Capture it with nets of words
Edit it to size

Poems flit like hummingbirds
With undulating flash
Flighty things emerging thoughts
Vanish with a dash

Being Born Again

by

Diane Klammer

We rebirth constantly
Bloom anew each flower
No one time occurrence
We reoccur every moment

Like a sunset painted sky
Music drumming rain
Crashing surf pounding the shore

It's over and over and over we renew

We must be ever vigilant
To this metamorphosis
Notice it happening
Lest we become complacent
Unaware of the miracle we are

A Ghost Tale

by

Diane Klammer

There was a ghost loved by a river
Who stayed beside a central pond
A thousand wood sprites by him lingered
Hiding him with golden frond

He could not bear to leave the river
Which soothed him often in his youth
With brilliant colors green and silver
Singing sunlight mist and truth

He wasn't doomed he made the choice
To stay amidst that pond of blue
Singing songs with spirits voice
As rushing waters changed their hue

For he had vowed when he was living
To stay beside that river free
Until that last drop oh so giving
Made it to the sparkling sea

And so he watched the river tumble
Through a course quite long and swift
Each meander splash and rumble
Was treasured as a precious gift

When the river's journey ended
And every drop was ocean round
The ghost looked back as he intended
And with a kiss was heaven bound

Library Window

by

Diane Klammer

A flock of geese flew gently by
Within the falling snow.
Their chevron pattern in the sky
Broken slightly from below.

Exciting to behold, it was
Above a frozen lake.
How could they fly, one might discuss
With snowflakes in their wake?

A flash of point, then gone from view,
In contrast to the bright,
Their color seeming brown in hue,
An arrow in the light.

Then empty was the sky and ground,
Both blending into one
Blank page a pen had not yet found
White powder falling on.

Peter's Poems

by

Diane Klammer

I
I've been crawling
Through a sea
Of books,
Hoping to find
Illumination.

Dusty paper is
My answer. I can sneeze
Each word out
One by one
Only.

Slow as a bookworm,
I tunnel through
Dark pages of print,
Chewing and spitting out.

It is raining today.
The underbelly of fall
Wraps me cold.
Yet my parched
Brain is boiling
Over.

II
You sang goodbye
To California's sun,
California's slums,
To become an Eastside Story
Stormy Jet.

One black crow
Flies into the mist.
I cannot follow
With withered angels
Wings of silver
To place
A gray feather
Floating
In the slush.

The Journey Home

by

Diane Klammer

I am called Dorothy.
Victim of "Element Kidnap"
I was shaken up
Inside my own home,
Taken up into a spiraling vortex
Of drugs and spells,
I confronted witches without
My little dog Toto.

I am called Scarecrow.
I falter on uncertian footing.
Windblown, alone,
Fragile in unknown journeying
I contemplate,
Within my strawfilled memories,
Unverifable explainations.

I am called Tinman.
I follow my malleable heart
Made beat and scraped
By bent metal.
I foolishly love
Those who break me.

I am called Lion.
Soft to the touch,
I hide behind
Ferocious roars of thunder,
Holding my panic
Beneath a coat of anger.

I am called Emerald.
Polished and presentrd,
I am pushed over the edge.
I shatter
Into sharp gleaming shards
Glued together
By bleeding hands
Of desperation.

I am called Puzzles.
I am mixed up within
Old dusty boxes
Hidden torn and held
Together by worn
Rubber bands.
I cannot be found.
I cannot be solved.

I am called Chosen.
I meander within
Strange mazes of mystery,
Forging on
The winding yellow brick
Road of shiny pennies
Reflecting ahead,
Looking behind.

Where is Oz?
Who are the Wizards?
When will I be Home?

The Fox Theater

by

Diane Klammer

The large room's cavernous emptiness
Beckoned us in from the cold.
Tables were sparse around a dark perimeter.
A few chairs stood next to a narrow wooden lip.

The stage jutted up
From behind an open
Rectangular area.
A dance floor? Moshpit? Standing area?

We would see, being the first ones there.

Little by little
People fluttered in
Almost silently, so it seemed.
Our back was to them.
Open space filled in
Gradually becoming a crowd.

Conversations built to a noisy din.
I looked back. The vast
Room was completely full
With fresh warm faces.
College students had claimed their den.

Suddenly Vertical Horizons loomed before us.
They started to play. From that moment on,
Despite the lively litany of chatter,
The room, the people, disappeared.

There was only the music, the stage overtaking
me.
This electrical charge rose
Hackles on the back of my neck.

Two voices backed by beautiful acoustic guitars sang:
Their music flowed through my veins
While my entire body
Vibrated back the sound.

Changing Shapes (for Aaron)

by

Diane Klammer

Strange geometry:
Intersecting lines
Cubicles, hexagrams quadrangles
Physics instructors
I haven't met
Shape you, Aaron
Into a scientist.

Your sister and I
Beeline to your door
Straight as the road will allow.
The freeway stops dead
At the University gates
Abrupt as if two Gargoyles
Are on guard.

My position in the car
Is as you remember.
My shoulders curl in anticipation.
My mind is a question mark.
Once inside, bewildering architecture
Draws us into your building.

Your small square room
With the bed above,
The desk underneath,
Houses you now. We are guests ehere.
This is your territory.

The dining hall
Where we eat dinner
Seats our friends, making six.
Jokes and salt crystals
Tilt a salt shaker
Humor is bouncced back and forth everywhere.

Your ring of sapphire blue
Turns into
A six pointed star
This rapid fire conversation
In hexagonal patterns
Amuses me.

The math of a game of pool
Confuses me.
I see imaginary lines
Crisscrossing the table.

It is late. I am tired. I am cross.
Amidst foreign shores
Of unfamiliar waves breaking
Into spur of moment decisions
I am lost.

Earlier in the evening
We saw a pyramid;
The ever burning light
Flickers from me.
Almost burnt out
I fade from your life.

Only five weeks into college
I can no longer hold you.
Your mind, always intricate
Is a distant million light years
Away from me
Two hours down the road
At UCSB.

How will they shape you
In four years,
My only son?

Who only yesterday
Was clinging to my legs before
Running off to explore your toddler world.

My legs are stems
Which will become more tired still
As I remain grounded,
Wishing to be
A vine growing near this tree towering above me.

The circle is incomplete.
Still, I must let go.

Lullaby

by

Diane Klammer

Go freely, my love, into the land of Nod.
Let the darkness be your gentle pillow.
Let the moon send silver ribbons to kiss your face.
Let peace be your guide through the land of Morpheus.

Let me watch your lovely face express your dreams
Of winged Seraphim, smiling as you slide down
Rainbows into worlds of pink clouds and lavendar dawns.
Let me hold you unaware of any demands made by mortals.

Let me love your black hair, your green eyes, your skin
As you are carrried by the arms of the sandman to frolic
With the red headed angels and their crowns of stars.
Let me be near you for just a few short hours.

For when you awaken I will have to be gone,
Disappearing into the chariot of daylight,
Pulled by your awareness,
Singing laments with the birds of morning.

My Daughter on a Swing (for Audrey)

by

Diane Klammer

I watch you soar forward
While I stand behind
Giving you an occasional push
When you need it.

I remain still
As I witness your motion.
You rise higher and higher
Before my eyes
Swiftly ascending upward,
Growing, living.

For one brief instant I grab you,
Hold you suspended
But you protest and demand to be released.

So, with one final push,
I let you go
And watch you fly forward again.

This time you want no assistance
For you love the discovery
Of your own freedom.

Hunting for the Moon

by

Diane Klammer

I
One of the eyes of night
The moon opens,
Closes. Masculine
Or feminine? A celebration
Or paradox? Simultaneously
Constant and inconsistant
Consistant and inconstant.

You are a compilation
Of planets
Not only the stuff of science, you are
The stuff of poets.

Every twenty eight days or so
You show a new fullness,
A new red harvest. Predictable changes
So far.

Full moon whole notes,
Crescent chin quarter rests,
So it sings. Precisely.

You make full mood music.
A song cycle for lunacy,
A song cycle for the huntress
Searching for a new
Moondance.

II
How old is the moon?
Gravity and cold
Craters fill in
Your deep shoe treads;
Dust where you used to walk.

A reminder of the howling
For what cannot be reached, cannot be touched,
Even in clear lake reflections
Widening into unknown
Diameters of concentric
Circles
Leaving wet traces
On the hands and face.
III
Fair coquette of heaven
You have a cold grace
You are host
To pearl white banquet.

You deflect a silvery laugh
To those who have passed
You off
As "Man in the Moon".

It is not a man reflected
In your light of mystery.
There is a woman in your bright face
Who is shy about her beauty,
Retreating if one stares too hard.

You glow ice fragile
Beautiful as a newly formed
Opal cameo carved
On the onyx of the night sky.

Sometimes you blush red,
Retreat, then disappear.
It is a woman's prerogative
To change her mind.

Several times
Your pretty face
Caused me to dance,
To lament being alone,
Shone light on my shadowed path,
Kept me awake
With your gown of silver
On my bed.

I have cried to hold you,
But you retreat into portent dark blue.

Flying

by

Diane Klammer

You press your tense blue fingers
Against the cold sky,
Ask God if He sees
How green those trees are.

Do you believe in God?

Did L. Frank Baum know green
Is the color of eternal life
When he wrote all those Oz books?

You're pretending
The window is gone.
No more TV screen.
This is a real broomstick
You're sitting on.

Your hair bristles back
As you stare at
All
Those swimming pools,
Homes you cannot afford.

To leave

You must go through the motions
Though the decent makes you queasy,
In spite
Of the seatbelt sign
Flashing red.

Falling (for Carla)

by

Diane Klammer

Red roses once

Resting in a vase

Descend, descend

Down through

empty space.

Flame petals fall

Down to hit

The table. Bleed to

The floor.

Some were torn

Pieces pulled apart,

Calyxes fragmented

Heads left naked

Not by chance.

Insidious, the

Depression takes hold,

Manifests itself

Destroying beauty

Fragmenting life.

Leaves flowers in pieces

Broken

To a lone

Demise.

Rio

by

Diane Klammer

The active city never sleeps,
A central heart whose cadence beats.
At night, a steady throb,
By light, a lively mob,
Each day the song repeats.

Civilization moves throughout and within
A natural wonder which shines undimmed.
The buildings and bustle,
The rhythmic hustle
Can't conceal the natural beauty which has always been.

Beaches and buildings unite as one
In circular patterns round as the sun.
Mountians reach up and around
Views blend magically with sounds
Casting spells forever undone.

The people dance and sway
With graceful motion in a special way
Radiating love of life
Even in hardship and strife,
And a cheerfulness troubles can't fray.

This city permeates my soul
With a love I can't control
I will say good-bye
With a heart that cries
For a part of me no longer whole.

Though I've been to Rio in my dreams
In my younger days, it seems
That although I'm here
And can touch everyone near,
The fantasy remains.

In my blood two countries flow.
Each beckons me to come and grow.
They both are mine.
Home's hard to define,
And traveling's too slow.

Mushroom Cloud

by

Diane Klammer

Poisonous mushroom
Destroying angel
If you explode
Your spores will blow
Fill the sky
Cover the earth
With a dark death cloud

Most of us know
Mushrooms decay
Still
We propagate
Still
We cultivate
Still
We watch you grow
Even as
We cringe
In fear of
Your black shroud

Seeing Through Mud

by

Diane Klammer

Who do I find
As I peel back layers of clay
Fine red sand in my hand
Running wet to earth below?

What will I see
As I strip off the outer layers
Like plaster
Which encases sculpture?

Will I behold
A creation
Of my own making,
An image I give substance?

Are you a mirage
Through which I see stardust
Shining as jewel imbedded
Within stone?

Will you come
Out of hiding
To show full spectrum
Colors released from night?

Disillusionment

by

Diane Klammer

Pedestals are build
They tower tall
Are carefully constructed
By infatuated females
To display Ego inflated males
Before they crumble and fall

Hopeful hearts
Project images of depth,
Vacuous mirages
reflected by icy mirrored space
Into the eyes
of the adoring creator.

Dreams beat against
Fragile glass walls,
Only to be painfully shattered
By disillusioned realizations,

Reality Light.

Posterity

by

Diane Klammer

Childrem scream
For attention
(While no one hears)
To survive
In a world
Which rotates
Shakily

Without conviction
Children grow
Until no longer
They
Wish to know
Care to dream

Utterances unheard
They become
Apathetic adults
Who in turn
Cannot condone
Mundane inconveniences
Of nurturing
A next generation

Their blanketed sportscars
Sit
Parked adjacent
To an abortion clinic

Children Scream

For attention
(While no one hears)
To survive
In a world
Which rotates
Shakily
Without conviction
Children grow
Until no longer
They

PS
Wish to know

Your Footsteps

by

Diane Klammer

for Carole & Richard

Everywhere your footsteps
Chose to gently tread
On the pathways of America
Have spread your love

From where the eastern sun shines on
The trails of the Flatirons at dawn
To where the beach hits the sand
On a Pacific coastline
Lighting it up with luminescence
Your presence will be missed

You two inspire
Your laughter makes a chorus
With that of your many friends
It blends in with the wind
Whistles through the pines
Sounds sweeter than the rush
Of a nearby river
The call of a red tailed hawk

You will take the love and longing
Of all your friends
Back to England
It will grace your steps
The traces of American soil
American customs
American love
Will color everything you do

Colorado will call out to you
Come back come back
We are not done with you yet
Our good times are not over
We need more time to visit
We need more time for hiking
We need more time for dancing
You live here in our hearts

Our memories will sprout wings
They will chase after you
We will travel across the miles to find you
And will bring you home

Hangover (for Kory)

by

Diane Klammer

When you wake up drowning in golden fog
With the suns light blinding your eyes
When you�ve eaten most of the Sahara Desert
Tunneling through sand and spitting out the grit
When last night is a blank highway
You know yesterday was your birthday

When your head can blow up the whole Middle East
Your stomach is a balloon that lurched and popped
A river is rushing in your ears
When loud voices demand where you�ve been
You ooze down the stairs
Long for the dog�s hair
Pray for the day to go away

When you�re free falling through yesterday
Or left swimming through time
That snuck by leaving you an adult
When there was a dance in your walk
But now an umbrella is around your neck
When you want to sink unencumbered
Through a glass darkly
You will kill for an aspirin

When time seems to evaporate
Tasting like stale candy in a drawer
The hours seem to speak
The last complaints of life
Hold on to your immense courage
Remember the whole world
Will again be your oyster

When friends and family start to sound
Like a room of voices singing off key
Demands of the day
Soak up your energy like a sponge
Remember and celebrate how loved you are
And go mow the lawn

Candy Cane Birds

by

Diane Klammer

They call them Roseate Spoonbills
Magnificent birds painting the world
With their plumage contrasting
Against a brown road which bends to offer
Forty fluffs of cotton
Candy canes from pink and white feathers
Surrounding two bright slashes of red
Punctuating each wing

They reflect a crimson shadow
Create a pink pool below them
Which blurs with the sunset overhead

A chorus of rosy voices
Trumpets Christmas carols
With lusty abandonment

Their bills stir up the water
Like batter beaters
As they search for their evening meal
They herald holiday surprises
Like gifts in unexpected places
A hopeful glimmer of joy
In an unusual season

At that moment
Soft December light
Creates a Christmas spell
As the spirit lives still
Among awe inspiring nature

Wave Runner

by

Diane Klammer

A sleek machine rests in its corral
Beckons, whispers there has to be more
Magical adventures to explore

Its bright colors submerge in the water
Buoyant peaceful calm floating in sunlight
Rears up like a spirited horse

Comes alive slicing through liquid emerald surfaces
Splashes millions of sparkling diamonds in our wake
They spray our faces cool and wet

Wind blows while feather firework clouds
Burst amidst blue topaz skies
The motor sings its song

We jump and fly above gentle waves
Onyx loons greet and dive
Blinding white flocks of gulls glide

Boats bubble by barely touching our world
The shore rushes by like a muted painting which fades
Away into movement and laughter of the ride.

Poem for Lucyfur (Aaron's Cat)

by

Diane Klammer

She pads around the house
Soft as breathing
Floating in and out
Of each surface of dreaming

She is elusive
A dark prayer ghost
A carpet of velvet She
Barely touches
Keeping just away
Her face brushes
The back of your hair

She holds a special place
Perched on the end
Of a soft blanket draped bed
Purring contentment from this space

You hold your breath
To listen
She speaks quietly
Only when necessary
Still she rules

Sunrise

by

Diane Klammer

When morning clouds
Pregnant with silver
Bear down
On the strawberry sun
And it pushes its way to the top
Sunrise is over

A new day is born

The brief transition
From night to day
Alters cosmic tranquility

Green Lake

by

Diane Klammer

On a place called Green Lake
Minnesota where loons call
Where bugs are friendly

The lake laps the shore
In a song of frenzy
Or kisses it in an expanse
Of blue green mirror calm

Trees around the perimeter
Almost blend in
With the lake�s lovely gloss

And it talks - and it talks.

Time is spent in the boat
Slicing up swells or
In the house eating and drinking wine
The company is warm, kind

And we talk - and we talk

The days are painted rainbow colors
Wondrous to be seen

And we walk - and we walk

Eden must be close by
The peace of God is near
The wind over the water
Is magical to hear

And it sings - and it sings

This is a place of unforgotten dreams
Better realities

And we play - and we play.

Sunrise Lament (For Mom)

by

Diane Klammer

Every day I greet the sunrise
I draw your name
In the morning sky
With giant cloud brushes

Each day I scrawl one color
Of the rainbow
Dawn after dawn

In turn the horizon
Has blushed crimson
Burned orange
Hung silver
Pulsed purple

Only to dissipate
As the rising sun
Burns through each melting attempt

I cannot find you
You are scattered
Elsewhere in the universe

Alone I contemplate its origins
The space
You occupy in it

Who Bit the Moon?

by

Diane Klammer

I saw it.

A great red harvest moon
With a piece missing
Like a big apple
With a bite out of it

It usually hangs there
A luminous white disc
Where astronauts tread
And left a flag

But somebody is munching
On the moon

It is a jelly doughnut
It is gouda cheese
It is pizza pie

Who bit the moon?

It gets smaller each day
Of the month
One bite at a time

Then it has to grow back.

When Fear Smiles at Me

by

Diane Klammer

When fear smiles at me
I know his name
His crocodile teeth
Seem friendly
But are not

When fear smiles at me
I am trapped alone
In a black cold basement
With no way out

When fear smiles at me
A pillow presses
On the face of creativity

When fear smiles at me
An ice hand clutches my soulspace

When fear smiles at me those sharp teeth cut each heartcell in two

Quiet Like a Sunset

by

Diane Klammer

for Ann

You are quiet
The way a sunset
Is quiet
You blaze gold shimmer
Without uttering a sound

Conversation softens
To a halt
When you wander
Into a room
You light it up

Your actions vibrate love
They speak volumes
Amaze and render speechless
Those who behold them
They swell full of meaning

When you voice your ideas
You sing erudite
Your mind holds vast knowledge
Everyone hears
Yet you feel no need to overdo

I value the fortune
To call you friend
You are a joyous gift
My mind could not portend
It pleases me to write this down

Land of Opportunity

by

Diane Klammer

Abundant as a landscape
They multiply like rain
Lay asleep on concrete
Eyes look away again

Weathered with discouragement
Some too fatigued to care
Families shiver closer in
Their children's vacant stares

Proud dwellings are constructed
Out of boxes and old cars
Another night of piercing cold
Is drowned in liquor jars

Some sell their blood for money
Walk barefoot through the snow
Steal food from trash cans hungrily
Help for them is slow

A ruthless random villain
Called poverty does reign
Removing homes from millions
Who will end their pain

The problem is bipartisan
We spend money on defense
Loathe to confront the looming bill
To pay all of these rents

We can read it in the newspapers
Hope that it will end
If things get really tough for us
We can always sleep on them

Farmer's Market

by

Diane Klammer

Denver is an inferno
With no ocean in sight.

I remember my favorite Friday afternoon ritual:
The cool breeze of an open air market.

Where the beach meets the street
In Hermosa, California,
A familiar crowd gathers.
Smiles are sweet.
Fruit is fresh.

On the sidewalk
Flowers are in abundance:
Stargazer lilies for devotion,
Roses for love,
Daisies for thoughtfulness.

Their fragrance still fills my head
In this field of weeds
Punctuating short wild grass.

Here, I have had my fill of sour citrus.
Here, peppers have burned me.
Here, there are no boysenberries.
Here, the bread has gone mouldy.

Enough of this distance
Which slices through my consciousness,
Leaving my unquiet soul to bleed
With a new open wound.

Autumn

by

Diane Klammer

There is a chill in the air
An almost imperceptible drop
A leaf starts to shiver
And another
And another

One turns yellow
Amidst a rich backdrop of green
Is easy to be seen
And another
And another

There is a riot of colors
Reds and browns and oranges
One falls to earth
And another
And another

Above a carpet of gold
A naked tree stands
Reaches upwards
And another
And another

Feeding the Hummingbirds

by

Diane Klammer

Our humming feeder
Has to be cleaned
The bright red liquid
Poured out
The mold scrubbed
From the glass
To prevent the tiny
Long bird tongues
From swelling

This process reminds me of scrubbing
Bottles for my children
When they were young
Now they are leaving the nest

Every three days
Seems like so much bother
The trick is to fill them
Only a little

I look at the wasted
Liquid and sigh
Then I hear
Whirring of small wings

One of natures miracles
It is the ruby throat
Brilliant in the sun
That shows me it's worth it.

Sonnet for Growth

by

Diane Klammer

Decisions which demand both growth and change,
The ride that takes us onward throughout life,
Requires that we have both joy and pain
Brings laughter, awe, uncertainty and strife.

We're straddling a see-saw as it swings
In patterns, unpredictable designs.
The downward motion cries, the upward sings,
Those sounds through time cannot be realigned.

We riders take the turbulence in stride
Moving through the rough, remaining strong,
Learning on the way to sympathize,
Allowing fear to go and love prolong.

The Lord requires courage on this trip,
Allows us help, that we don't lose our grip.

Duet (for Roger)

by

Diane Klammer

Several lifetimes ago
Your soul
The green of your eyes
Lured me to your side forever

We built a life
On a dream
And a guitar string

We climbed uphill
With surefooted steps
Two young flowers grew
Tenuous roots
To the Central Coast

Live oaks engulfed
Our exuberance
We developed
In leaf carpeted womb

We created two symphonies
A yin and a yang

Each solos an extraordinary life
Note by note
They dance time signatures
To a rhythm we helped compose
With this holy union of ours

We duet one name
Beat one heart together

My spine is a piano
You know key by key
You play your saxophone
I sing back in gratitude
We vibrate in concert
I clutch this music to my chest

Diva (for mama)

by

Diane Klammer

The year the century turned
You danced out of life
Leaving a hole in my heart

You try to fill it
By leaving your name
Emblazoned everywhere

Outdoor Divas are on Pearl St Boulder
Diva�s radio blasts
In New Orleans

Diva�s dress shop
Adorns Cocoa Florida
You know we want a reminder

When Carol and I
Sang as children
Your name was unheard of

Diva is now taking over the country

You were never a Prima Dona
Yet young girls wear your name
On their tee shirts

Stay with us mom
We miss you so

Heather

by

Diane Klammer

Lovely feather flower
Your parents call Heather
I first saw you snuggled tiny in the back seat

Somewhere in a country
You don�t know
You cover the hills purple

I was voyeur to your spurts
Of angles and curves
You didn�t stay small long

You breathed athletics
Bounced through childhood
On a basketball

Now you shut the lid on teen age frenzy
You become an adventurer
With an agenda for some unnamed journey

You graduate triumphant
Turn eighteen like a Ferris wheel
With an itch to roll on

Spin your life into love
Collect buckets of success
Shape time into accomplishments

Stay close to those you love
Be able to sink back home
When the road dust wears on you

I Am With You

by

Diane Klammer

for Dad

Listen, you can hear me:
In the beat of drum pounding surf,
In the song of rain on the roof,
In the voice of a thousand choirs,
In loved ones laughter that lasts for hours.

Look, you can see me:
On dancing waters wide and blue,
On sunset skies of brilliant hue,
On jagged mountains blanketed by snow
On shining faces of those you know.

Pay attention, you can feel me:
In the touch of those you love,
When you pray to God above,
In the winds gentle kiss on your hair from a breeze,
In the warmth of the sun shining through the trees.

When you think of me, do not grieve.
I am with you. I did not leave.

Grand Mother

by

Diane Klammer

for Rosalie

Death is a mystery shroud
Inevitable
We do not understand
Or fully accept
We wait
Through our lives
Endure to give them meaning

We dread when loved ones go
Puzzle as we try to bridge the gap
Into the hereafter
In prayer and in dreams

Grandma, you have not left us
As past mingles into present
You lovingly watch over us
You always did

Happiest when helping us be comfortable

Loved to the fullest
Gentle strength
Has been your trademark

Grand Mother

Those words are indeed fitting
All your children and their posterity
Know your dignity

Student Affairs

by

Diane Klammer

A teacher and a gardener
Have parallel vocations
Both must lovingly encourage lush growth

Keep wandering roots
Firmly grounded
Well watered and nourished

As a bonsai tree
Each student is shaped
Even as individual change occurs

Gently but firmly
To reach out for light
Knowledge through truth

Then they bloom
Enriched to flourish
Beyond safe walls

Glue

by

Diane Klammer

The sun glares
Its vast orb of energy.
Mine drains into tiredness.

I trudge through
Some opaque viscous liquid
Honey orange colored stuff
Which does not taste sweet.
It sticks heavy like glue.

I feel ancient as amber,
Hard and static
With unknown bits of matter in my way.
Trappings of my life�s history float past.
I cannot retain them.
I remain stuck.

Sunshine mocks me
In my bewilderment,
Blasting its searchlight
On my suffocation.
This dragging ruins a beautiful day.

I could handle gaseous fog,
Liquid rain,
Solid snow.
Cold matches my mood.
Anything would improve this bright sun.

Others tire of hearing it
As I tire more and more
Feeling it.
They can do nothing,
Shake their heads
Walk away.

When I try to do,
I slow down
Until I am rooted
To one spot.

I recite a mantra:
I am not tired
I am not tired
I am not tired
But my body won�t listen.

The three mantras have gone away.
I am a white feather
Stuck in the glue.

Becoming a Master

by

Diane Klammer

(for Kory)

You are becoming a master of intellect
You chop ideas into pieces
Translate numbers and words into meaning
Crunch them the way
Termites chew through wood
Naturally as falling off a log

You are becoming a master of music
Your voice is dream and truth together
It summons angels
Seduces Hades like Orpheus did
You create cathedrals out of chaos
Demand harmony where silence dares not survive

You are becoming a master of adventure
You freefall through thin air
Dive from a cliff or to a coral reef
Ski down a slope or on green lake
It is the same
Nothing much scares you

You are becoming a master of courage
Coeur translates into heart
Let your two hands embrace both
May you sprout wishes into reality
Feel blessed to awaken
Spin life into love

Collect friends like bunches of flowers
Success like buckets of seashells
Call back to those who care
Be fully present to them
Let them take you home to warmth
When the clock ticks too many times

Hysterwrecktummy

by

Diane Klammer

(for Karen)

They gave me anesthesia, I just fell asleep.
Now I have to recover for weeks.

When I was sleeping they took some of my innards
When will I ever get any dinner?

They turned my whole body into a pincushion.
What they aren�t pullin on, they keep on pushin.

My family is here and I just want to doze,
But my roommate beside me keeps blowing her nose.

Some guy walked down the hall with his gown on reversed
But I don�t care to look, I just want the nurse.

The first trip from bed is the incredible journey.
I don�t like this. Where�s my attorney?

Before I had this, I used to laugh at Ben Stiller.
Now I just beg for my next painkiller.

They did a job on my body, I need a drink,
But I just get water from the bathroom sink.

There was a tube in my bladder, I have to relearn to pee,
Who in the hell wants to watch TV?

A friend brought me candy from Russell Stover,
But I can�t eat it. I would like to roll over.

The flowers are lovely, but they make me sneeze.
I feel like I fell from a high trapeze.

The nurses in here do seem pretty nice
But I still have to ask for what I want twice.

Everything�s over, I need relaxation
But this medicine keeps giving me constipation.

When I�m recovered, though it�s taking its toll
I�ll get to have sex without birth control.

One question I have makes me quite curious.
Why in the heck did I pay for all this?

I have to remember, to keep perspective in line,
That a stitch, in time, in time, saves nine.

Communications with Audrey

by

Diane Klammer

You exploded expectant into life
Your gusty song shouted dream music
My own daughter tugged at my breast
My longing poured out into your growth

Ever the strong supple flower
You surpassed a most exotic beauty
As you jettisoned into adulthood
Demanding the world take notice

Now pride is my territory
My woman child resonates with indefatigable grace
You sculpt an artist�s soul
You vibrate heart music

Your mind slices through confusion
Shapes it into accomplishments
Embraces a college degree
You laugh triumphant

Spin your life into love
Collect friends with a frenzy
Success like buckets of seashells
Happiness vast as a million universes

Come back to us from time to time
Let us shower you with warmth
When the road tires you out
When the nest gets too silent

Their Love Remains

by

Diane Klammer

(Villanelle for my sister Carol)

Our lives move on and sing their own refrains
We see our family change before our eyes
When all is said and done their love remains

The Lord grants us our losses and our gains
Times jubilant, remorseful, all that cries
Our lives move on and sing their own refrains

Peaceful thoughts will minimize the pain
Remembering good moments as time flies
When all is said and done their love remains

Can distance cast a shadow on our brains?
Our hearts can leap beyond to clear our eyes
Our lives move on and sing their own refrains

Their essence floats through sunlight and through rain
As more than once we�ve said these sad goodbyes
When all is said and done their love remains

Such mysteries no genius can explain
Well meaning mouths are left no alibis
Our lives move on and sing their own refrains
When all is said and done their love remains

Friends

by

Diane Klammer

The ocean is a friend to me.
As friends are like the changing sea.
They both splash laughter in your eyes.
They both can sting and make you cry.
Friends can soothe away your pain.
Their waves can bring you peace again.

Friends can retreat and may be missed,
Then sneak behind and leave a kiss.
Their moods can ebb and flow like tide.
Friends take your feelings for a ride.
At times they knock your castles down,
Tease you as sand hits the ground.

They write to you near water�s edge.
You may not like what�s being said.
But time can wash the hurt away.
Then you�ll forgive; your love will stay.
If friends are real their love is deep,
Honest as an ocean�s sleep.

Even when they can�t be there,
Their presence wafts through windy air.

Throwing a Pot

by

Diane Klammer

Sonnet for Cheri)

An artist holds a formless chunk of clay
To give it self She throws it down and pounds
It into shape Those hands at work and play
Make warmth and wet and pressure molding round.
An object from abstraction becomes real
Turned faster as her foot impels below
Pulled up pushed down while spinning on a wheel
Her clay becomes, she guides, and art does grow
A pot, concrete and real, with out and in
From clay so slick, so red, so granular
She makes it grace, her hands and discipline
Creating oval, round or annular.

A beautiful container with a name

Displaying part of her, no two the same

Your Own Music

by

Diane Klammer

(for Ken)

Sing to the heartbeat
Of your own music
Either as a solo performer
Or part of a duet
A large chorus

Step to the heartbeat
Of your own music
Either as a lone dancer
A couple
Part of a group

Play to the heartbeat
Of your own music
Give it your all
Unite it with the rhythm
Of your dear friends

You play a different tune
Hear a unique song
Your music sometimes whispers
To unfold alone
To be heard in solitude

Your music may be a song unsung
Pleading to be made
Begging to be played
To be shouted out
As glorious noise
Uniting with the laughter of a thousand voices

Your music can quietly invite
The touch of a gentle hand
The voice of a caring friend

The beauty of your music
Can be manifested in love
As the beauty of your song
Resounding as your shared miracle

Fairy Slippers

by

Diane Klammer

(At Ouzel Falls)
(for Ann, Catherine, 2 Carols and Tony)

Troops of mountain fairies
Lurk along the trail we hike
Dance with river water
Spilling from their shoes

Elusive resolute creatures
Sing in beckoning whispers
We can only puzzle
Where they�ve been

We drumbeat our own bootsteps
On the shady carpeted path
Our breathing synchronizes
To the cadence of our walk
Calypso falls pulses
In our ears
Rushes like our own circulation

Mysterious wood sprites hover
All over the forest
Suddenly they settle
In shady fungal loam

They hieroglyph footprints
Which appear and vanish like longing
Until they lose
Their tiny pink slippers
Like Cinderella did

These rare fragile gems
Jump out and tell
Of yesterday�s revelries
Compel invisible magic
Mesmerize us all

Sonnet for Rosalie

by

Diane Klammer

(For grandma)

Grandmother, though you know we love you so
Your passing still remains a mystery.
So quickly does the joy and laughter go:
Loathe to accept the truth as history.

As just a child, I hold you close to me.
Your strong and gentle presence fills my heart>
You model with your love a way to be.
The sadness comes in knowing we must part.

A giant oak protecting all beneath
With branches that embrace the life within
Has left a family sad and incomplete
With memories of our Matriarch undimmed.

Just knowing that our time in life is brief
Does little to decrease this painful grief.

Puzzled Engineer

by

Diane Klammer

Airplane
You can fly!
Bumblebee,
You can�t!
Aerodynamically impossible!!
So why?

Catsong

by

Diane Klammer

(for Husky)

My fine free furry friend Husky
Why are you so unpredictable?
(As if the word cat won�t answer that question.)

You float softly into my lap like a feather duster
Purring, slowly striding, silky cuddly sweet
Then you pounce
Sharpen your claws on my leg-ouch

You look at me with wide eyed innocence
As if to say "who me?"
Before biting my nose
Enough of that
I push you off
You exit arrogantly
With head held high
I injured your pride

When I wrap a package
You come in a flash
Crunching the wrinkling paper
Crawling through the bags
Biting on the boxes
You will tear them into shreds
If I let you
I say scram
Again that injured look

Later you cuddle quietly on the end of my bed
For a peaceful nap
At 3 AM you meow at my mouth
You ask to be fed
I jump out of bed
Trudge down the stairs
You bite at my heels
I�m lucky not to reel

Down the stairs half awake
I�m a bit slow
You gently bite my leg
Tell me to hurry up
Can opener going, I readily putdown the food
Before tucking in you glance back and wait
"How dare you watch me eat"
I tuck in myself
Just as I start to sleep
You meow in my ear
You are lonely
Outside you go
To ramble with the pack.

Sex Object -College Girl's Lament

by

Diane Klammer

When I walk through the campus with each passing day
I see you quite often as your eyes quickly glance
Enjoying my presence as I pass your way
You can watch me live and I�ll call it OK
But there�s something added and I am confused
It�s not that you watch me carefully
You seem to put yourself above me

I�m not a decoration to be dismissed by you
No object to be moved to enhance
The mood of the room as I come into view
To fade away when you give me a cue
I think I live I notice I feel
You don�t know me or my capabilities
So how can you put yourself above me?

There are more female students on campus this year
Do we only add interest with our physical stance
As you turn to quickly view us from the rear
Or are we people whose competition you fear?

You aren�t any less of a man, you see
If you don�t put yourself above me

Mourning Dove

by

Diane Klammer

Sing your song
Mourning dove
Grieve your fill
Lament love
Cry until
Hurt is done
Then fly on

Architect

by

Diane Klammer

(For Bob)

Time passes
When you see your empty wallet
Gaping in astonishment
At the hours you work

Voluntarily

You return
To a space
Which now displays
A building
You created

By your own design

You congratulate
That same poor you
For that permanent part
You left behind

Lacertilla's Lament

by

Diane Klammer

(Response to The Celebration of the Lizard)
(For Fausto and Jim)

Within the labyrinth of the mind
Inside Jungles of cold concrete wilderness
Hidden by darkness and warmed by light
A jewel in the crowd crouches

Lacertilla lives
Confused chameleon changes clown colors
Squamata passed on
Became part of the pavement
From thunder rubber tires
Lacertilla ran away and forgot

He longs to leave this cold hearted city
Passers by become ghostly images larger than life
Faceless, Nameless and Heartless define the beat of the city
Lacertilla listens while industry attacks
While he longs for wilderness not caged by power lines

Eventually Lacertilla escapes to green growing grass
His sleek low running form makes way
From rock to dust and can breathe free

Ceremony indeed. What are we worshipping?
Beasts of burden or trinity replaced by 666 or circus?
Dreams of snakes with two heads
Crawling on scales of time with a thousand lidless eyes
Circles with powerful twisted shapes
Drag reluctant souls to look in the mirror
Lights flicker and features fuse
Into ugly beasts of terror on the other side

Go away. We are protected here
The fa�ade fades into the ordinary
The dreamer pulls the sheets over his head
Crouches down into the bed
Images form and faces are barely visible
A candle is relit and vision clears

Why dwell during this celebration of souls?
Lacertilla