A selection of poems by Kendra Muecke.
Read more of her poetry here: Kendra’s Poetry Blog.
SWEET ORANGE, DEEP BLUE
[Parallel, as if I am Eleven.]
In thy chambers,
I peer amidst constructive meaning,
I care for those lost,
I care for those deceiving.
I walk in dignity,
& this is so.
— “on forth, to the rhythm!” yells the salmon below.
To move, I beckon from the depths of my soul,
as if I needed words in my ear to behold—
To groove right by,
to shift & to mould,
to make everyday sunny—
as if you care what garbage I am told.
& shadows, & shadows, & shadows—
I see,
succulently dousing my spirit in false integrity.
To have found Waldo without even owning the book!!!
Oh, but of course! Quite normal you see—
I found him out back,
sauntering to the beat
of a drummer boy,
who owned nothing to eat.
So—
Proposing a question,
Where do all the manners of answered time go?
I think I left them outback – tied up like a stripper to the north pole.
Put on your
thinking cap,
Dig on in,
Breathe inside,
& Beheld within.
Time to reap what I sow,
& to turn against boulders,
to see if they are real
or just calculated mental patterns.
_____________________________
STATEMENT OF A TOLL
Hear Ye! Hear Ye!
Get our hearing here!
Join the crowd
Of seldom done reassuring
and life left without billing
The found!
Hear ye, Hear ye!
Her license profound,
To gander the geese,
and honor the crown!
“Beware!” she says,
“The causation is creating a future for you!
A suture of camaraderie
composed of homelands a skew.
There’s a building to scale
and a wall of few,
Who stand bland
and contrite
and full of blocking the truth.”
“Their pants are high
and their ears are low!
They kid about a war
of which your wishing
wishes not to know!”
And in your sight,
You feel the sun.
You feel yourself
laughing out loud for fun.
The whole of your being
is the swing on your feet
that guides the spirit
to hold a soundful greet!
The way of your vibe
is the dig of your bone
founding the relation
and opulence of perpetual tone.
[are you, real you?]
_____________________________
SLEEPY AS PANCAKE
Geometric are the angles
that coordinate the
cheese of said mind.
I prance along closer,
but have forgotten my next line—
It was an uncertainty
within the age of reason.
It was me against myself,
if advancement meant treason.
I was then
and am now,
Picking up the memories
by the hour;
A transition from haze,
something to do
with reclaiming one’s power.
But, with much Ado,
“Your character and substance,”
give us all that we need—
They wanted ego to subside,
but they’re the ones who brought back the 90’s.
I stomp;
I step.
I’m on my own to unravel,
at the end of the day,
I remain the one
who experiences my travel.
_____________________________
PERSPECTIVITY:
The Tale of The Queen & The Sad One
[Choice is grace, love is elegance]
“There is something in the air tonight,”
said The Sad One to The Queen,
“I was walking around outside and–”
She then proceeds to halt talking,
as The Queen lowers her head,
and whispers nonchalantly—
Something I cannot hear,
Since, I am just a distant observer writing.
A secret of the trade
—to share ideas without mocking—
Like a bird,
The Sad One begins to chirp.
She runs excitedly
to her palace balcony
on the Eastside of Brooklyn, New York.
[Where I am, is where I am to be]
_____________________________
About Time
So step, step into the sunshine
of my beauty with you
transcendent prizes of hair
soaked in golden and blue.
Step, step closer,
up onto the stands
microphone in hand
as I lay and listen to your voice,
and wonder at a time like this,
How you are able to speak my name?
_____________________________
The Resonancy
I’m waiting in all
hubs & disregards
in calculated
melodic minors.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I’m raising up
my arms in stakes,
floating,
as patience
spins in place.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
A tousled murmur
and mimicked tease,
they turn as I,
the questionably healed,
follow through.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
For who would fardels bear?
To rehearse & practice,
a lonesome knight
falls in time with moon.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
In deservance,
I plead to God,
hands outstretched
in clasped surrender.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
My voices peel
layer atop
of shroud,
‘set her up & then play her.’
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
For who would
wake a love,
to let it go
half-nounced.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
The pleading returns,
tears at my knees,
I’m prone on the floor,
out of body,
I begin
to get back
to begging:
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
“Lead me too.
There is where,
I hat my song
& sing-a-long,
the ground of
successful shared peace.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
The creation of self,
my fingernails grow,
so I may carve them
on fretted matter.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Make a beautiful day
out of my chiseled nose,
send me to where
there is held space of soul,”
She flatters.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
A popped match,
you wink round corridor,
so She waits
as rabid habit on display.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Hops & wobbles,
truthful cobbles
reshape & supersede
shoe-gaze.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
A filed patient
signed in at the front boudoir,
wearing a bow of gestured,
“Let it be;
one day,
my prints will dry.”
_____________________________
The Grateful Lovers
[they love each other]
What is this name,
’tis on my lip?
You on barrel,
echo to 5,
You on redemption,
recollection of mine tribe.
Frantic to be,
I set down the clock,
who are you?
I remember that once now I had forgot.
Bless me with paintings
and hear me,
my words,
they come harrowing in
from the sunshine & life left absurd.
[action]
_____________________________
Kendra Muecke has published two books.
- “The Politics of”, a 340 page book of poetry.
- “Project Non-Arch: Operation Clown School”, a long from prose poem.
- She is currently comprising her 3rd book of poetry & writing her 1st novel.
Both books are available for purchase here: Buy Kendra’s Books, Amazon, and Barnes & Noble.
Read more of her poetry here: Kendra’s Poetry Blog.
All rights reserved. This website or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, Kendra E. Muecke.
All poems, writing, and songs written and owned exclusively
by Kendra Muecke.
