HARK
Latest essay on Substack, ABOVE ALL BE KIND
Someone finally bought the building across the street from me. The red and white FOR SALE sign stood in the window for a couple of years, the storefront forlorn and lifeless, prey to sporadic hot pink graffiti tags, since John, the owner of the Porsche repair shop closed his business. Now, in place of the For Sale sign, hang, what appear to be, four white plastic shower curtains installed across the entire width of the shop window, maybe fifteen feet wide, marked with black Sharpie ink lettering three feet tall in capitals that read…
GUITAR
One time in Boston I banished you to the front hall closet
And convinced myself I hated you
And wanted to have a baby more
So I tried that.
For five years you waited quietly
Shut up in your case
Amongst the drab winter coats
Confident I would return
The baby didn’t happen
But I did see Jimi play at Monterey
In a documentary on TV and saw
Another way that love could be
It has to do with enormity
Like Jimi’s hands or a gift’s demand
To surrender and pay whatever the cost
No matter the sum
And wreck your life if need be
In a fire of feedback and fuzz tones
Fueled by the flame of a fierce artistry
Hotter than the sun
I hung an orange feather boa
Like the one Jimi wore in California
Around my neck
Opened the closet door and took you in my arms.
Magnitude
I am a human being, I gotta head full of poetry
That mostly lies tangled in a knot
Every day I pray to god, please! help me straighten something out
But he won’t
There’s a mom in Ferguson, South LA, Baltimore, Israel, Palestine
Each one crying for a child that’s gone
Murdered by a viciousness that is an ugly part of us
That we won’t own
I cut out paper dolls, blue for the boys, green for the girls
Each doll marks a child that’s dead
As I try to grasp the magnitude of something that I didn’t do
Or maybe, I did
It’s easy to forget just what the purpose is
And pretend we never knew
Betray our innocence and fall for handsome ruthlessness
And his deadly kiss
Young Michael Brown is dead, there’s bullet holes in his head
His body left lying in the street
And as the sun dries his blood in the shape of things to come
I turn my head and I weep
I am a human being, I gotta head full of poetry
That mostly lies tangled in a knot
Every day I pray to god, please! help me straighten something out
But he won’t
No, he won’t
No, he won’t
2014 Karin Bardarson
A SONG FOR US
There is no more except what is
The polar bears cry
The whale fishes weep
We toss and turn in a restless sleep
You being you and me being me
Isn’t enough to stop the bleed
Off the table
Onto the floor
Down the street
Onto the shore
The murky water turns bright pink
We try to change
We try to think
I smell
You stink
With no clear sky
And nothing to drink
We are the sinners
These are our wrongs
The universe sings her one word song
Over and over and over again
Love
Love
Love
2015 Karin Bardarson