poems by rachel kellum
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Serendipity
There is
No backward
Serendipity.
The way is forward.
Not in the dirty martini.
Nor the green day.
Joy cannot be planned.
Some hands open
Only once just
This way.
Notice.
2013
The History of Light
If it takes 7,000 years
For the light of the Eagle Nebula
To reach me,
How long does it take
The unobserved light of my body
To reach you?
Someone told me
Yesterday all light is a picture
Of ancient history.
2013
Geshe-la Speaks of Measurement
…Cubits warp / For fear to be a king.
~ Emily Dickinson, “We never know how high we are”
We don’t need feet
Or meters in Tibet.
My mother gave me space
Between elbow and fingertip.
2013
Outgrown by Grey at Thirteen
Just two weeks, his spring.
Three inches! Free falling voice!
My son, instant green.
2013
Black Place II
Black-PlaceII, 1945, Georgia O'Keeffe
O’Keeffe’s dark lipped plans
Weren’t pink gummed with ghostly teeth—
but slant lit badlands.
2013
Solitude
I’ve known the gentle crash
Of wave that whispers up and down
The slurping beach, combing
Sea-spat shells, distorted weeds,
Two feet, sopping driftwood masks.
I’ve opened up the ancient chest
In a basement a century used,
Where all the silver knives
And forks are tarnished
And there are no spoons.
I’ve climbed the minaret
And cried out in a crazy tongue
I did not recognize, and no one
Came to pray with me but flocks
Whose only sky and word is god.
I’ve laid upon the battlefield
A stiff, archaic nude,
My almost-smile undaunted
By the side-sunk spear, wishing
I were horses in Marc’s red and blue.
2013
Self-Immolation
Having lit the match,
Wind crawls up my fast wick back.
Liquid butter burns.
2013
Possible Fruit
These are not the roots
For which you pine,
But two lie next to two
Mangoes in my bowl.
I do not misconstrue
Life’s simple shrines
To possible fruit.
2013
On this Desert Land Enchanted
Tight cottonwood fists
wield gold-sheathed spears, our backyard
Balm of Gilead.
2013
With thanks to Poe for the title