New Spoken Word Piece: Damascus Road

I've been experimenting writing some spoken word pieces. This one I wrote in April as a personal project for National Poetry Month and for a speaking engagement. I'd love to hear any input!

Three Previously Published Poems

The following poems were published in Apropos. Since then the website has moved or closed. So here are the poems:

Holodomor

Blue sky over a field of grain.
And in the square a little girl
in braided hair stands alone
in grief with hollow, sightless eyes.
Deep thoughts have been taken away
by her deep pain.

                             Deep calls to deep

and sorrow to sorrow. I would give
her hope but all I have are my tears
falling into Lybid’s stream
while hers fill the wide Dnipro.

River Song

                                                           

Moonlight spills tonight over 
the Mississippi as the water 
tumbles southward; black as the mud 
that lines the bottom where catfish hide 
trash feeding, only to surface 
hook in mouth to grace a plate 
in Midtown Memphis. The river moves 
to the rhythm and beat of Beale 
Street blues. Black water muse 
infused with primal spirit-song 
merges with the big gulf water: 
New Orleans jazz, an old man’s laughter. 

Street Corner Blues

 

Street corner straight soprano sax
playing tunes on Preston and Travis streets.
Most walk by without notice. He doesn't
seem to care. His eyes are closed; keeping
beat in weathered blue suede shoes.

He doesn't see me watching, listening from
my wrought-iron perch, sipping 'jo
and taking in his smooth musical moves:
bold java Sumatra brews slip
down light and easy into rhythm and blues.

-Darryl Willis- 

originally appearing in Apropos Literary Journal 2010, Inaugural Edition

 

April Fool

This year April first is the day
that follows the Resurrection.
McCartney's fool could appreciate
the irony. (Not the Maharishi
but the mysterious figure who walked
with him on Primrose Hill and disappeared.)

From here you can see the world's revolution:
the final departure and new arrival.
The world is forever ending and waiting
for re-creation and resurrection.
While only the Fool on the primrose hill
can clearly see things as they are.

Poem A Day Challenge, April 1, 2013