Poems
Original Poetry by Warren GastonThe Snake
The snake, black beauty, four feet dead, broken, still in death, curves of serpentine grace. My wife, oblivious, stepped over the enemy of Eve, a root among rocks, a silenced fang. I saw the snake, froze in fear, or was it fascination, could not step over it, stuck...
Paradise: City of Angels (8)
Paradise: City of Angels (8) Soaking in a dictionary of whirling wet words, nouns and verbs pulse poems into the mind, a warm storm of metaphor and rhyme.
Paradise: City of Angels (7)
Paradise: City of Angels (7) Flameless moon, cool to touch, you burn a hole in the black night sky, you set fire to the tinder of my soul.
Paradise: City of Angels (6)
Paradise: City of Angels (6) Thick night heat, orange blossom air, the garden still as a heart between beats, the miracle of immense city silence.
Paradise: City of Angels (5)
Paradise: City of Angels (5) Swift wing hummingbird, standing poised in the sky, you poke your beak in gravity’s eye.
Paradise: City of Angels (4)
Paradise: City of Angels (4) Second half-moon morning, sharp shadowed corner of the house the sun tangled in telephone wires.
Paradise: City of Angels (3)
Paradise: City of Angels (3) Frothing water, naked sun, half-moon faint in the lemon tree, fruit of the fading night.
Paradise: City of Angels (2)
Paradise: City of Angels (2) I walk toward soft roaring water on a path between boxwood and wall following cairns of fallen fruit.
Paradise: City of Angels (1)
I have just returned from two weeks in Los Angeles, the City of Angels. There we rented a stucco cottage on Moore Street featuring a small secluded garden and hot tub. Eight brief poems came to be in that urban paradise. Paradise, the Persian Pairidaeza - 'magic...