Kelly Theodor

Autumn Palette

Walking through the autumn palette
tasting leaves which scent the air,
sweater warm beneath the jacket,
sky is turquoise, breezy, fair.

Hearing leaves that rustle softly
under bushes' scrawny limbs,
noisy silence, whispered secret,
sound of music, angels hymns.

Children playing, bathed in sunlight
running, jumping, falling, free,
tumbling softly through their castles
'neath the crimson maple tree.

Echoed highlights of the morning
waft across the evening sky,
hints of winter, chilly, icy;
geese on thundering wings go by.

Reaching home at sidewalk's end
I stop, and turn around
to bid a last farewell to autumn~
with sunset, it is gone.
Scenes from a Rhyming Dictionary

Escape the cape!
Reshape the drape
Then rape the grape
on the videotape
Gape at the shape
of a shipshape seascape
then scrape the crepe
with a strip of Scotch Tape.
 

Abstract Images

I fall and see black
  the shadow of the endangered hat
    brim of iron, band of thorns
      scraping agony from my skull

I fall and see grey
  the shadow of inspired lunacy
    shouting, falling down, writhing for joy
      purging and regurgitating truth and lies

I fall and see white
  the shadow of deafening silence
    dancing, twirling, an in an enraptured void
      screaming the whisper of violent peace

I fall and see red
  the shadow of burning ideas
    blood heaving through the holes in life
      desperate for the colors that represent me

Sunset

 The Poet's Secret

They all wrote crap
and they all published crap
and I open their books and I read their crap
and it makes me feel good
Because I will write crap
and I will publish crap
And they'll open my books and they'll read my crap
And they just might think it's good.
Pillows of mist in the sky race by
set aflame by the dying sun
that stretches,
reaches from its blanket of dusk
to ignite the tails of the fleeing shadows.

Scarlet and safflower blue, the hue
of wild blue horses on
sun-flecked hooves
racing the wind towards the velvet horizon
to find rest in the fields of moonlight.

 

  


With fury the winds came
and the thunder crashed
and lightning with all God's power spoke

And awakened me trembling,
but not for the storm,
for I had been trembling all the night long

No shelter did I take,
none did I desire, but
stood instead and prayed to be crushed

For the vortex of my own life
had come upon me, and
the tempest of the storm my just reward

 

click here to download the poem: "snowpiles.pdf", a visual treat. 

To view it, you'll need Acrobat Reader. You can download it 
for free from www.adobe.com if you don't already have it.

Inspired by September 11, 2001:

In the Eyes of the Child

I hear of the news in my hotel room
The tragedy that unfolds before my eyes
I think of my precious little child at home
And I wonder if he cries

I see the flames and the fear and the horror
I see death in the faces of those still alive
I hear stories of children on the streets below
And I wonder if they've survived

I rush home to my own precious baby
And in my helpless arms I hold him tight
With concern I look deeply into his eyes
And I wonder if he's alright

In the eyes of the child I see fear
Of the world he has known dissolving into dust
But as he looks up from the shelter of my heart
In the eyes of the child I see trust

In the eyes of the child I see sorrow
That lives were snuffed out merely for hate
But through the sadness, the tears and the hurting
In the eyes of the child I see faith

In the eyes of the child I see puzzlement
Not understanding why we all grope
For in his own innocent, pure little world
In the eyes of the child I see hope

In the eyes of the child I see promise
Where war, death and terror will cease
For there in the depths of his sweet little heart
In the eyes of the child I see peace

It Could Have Been Me

  We all have our stories of “I was almost there”
and “what would I have done”
and it scares us
and we ponder as we lay in our beds
or drive in our cars
about how we nearly died on September 11th
there but for the grace of God.

Maybe we were in New York once
There on a bus trip with our group
And had lunch at Windows on the World
Sure it was two years ago
And it was June
And it was the 21st
But what if it had happened then?  

Or maybe once we were in an airport
And on an airplane that
actually took off from Boston Logan
Or Newark, Or Dulles
And we remember the terminal
And we feel the terror in our own hearts
Because what if it had happened to me?

It could be that we were far away that day,
From the coast on the eastern edge of the US of A
But maybe we were near a skyscraper
Or on an airplane
Or in a government building
And we felt the fear that gripped us
That said, “What if it is going to happen here?”

I have never been to New York
Or the World Trade Center
But I know if I had been in the second tower
I would probably not have gone down
I know myself
And I would probably have stopped to gape
And it would have happened to me

So in a way it DID happen here, to us,
Wherever we were,
and are,
and have been
and we almost died, you know
except we weren’t there, at that time, at that place…
there but for the grace of God.

And I cry

because my body is broken
and all I can say is "aaaaaaaggh"
and no one knows I think
and feel
and see
just like they do
but only I'm locked away

And I cry

because the clown is so funny
but all I can say is "aaaaaaaggh"
and the people stare
and pat my back
and say
"that's funny"
and then walk away

And I cry

because I spit on my friend
because I laughed but it came out "aaaaaaaggh"
and it just exploded
so my friend
wiped his face
and I was so
embarrassed

And I cry

because I dream of talking
and never again saying "aaaaaaaggh"
but I'm stuck in this chair
strapped
and limp
and broken
imprisoned in this flesh

And I cry

"I'm here, I'm here, I'M HERE!" I scream,
but only "aaaaaaaggh" comes from my lips
and all I get are vacant stares
and "Behave!"
and a "Shush"
and so I stop
and am silent

and I cry.

Why Won't I Just Go Away?

Because you don't know this, but
Every time I think about you I start to
C ry, when I think that we will never
Again share tender moments like we
Used to every night. It makes me so
Sad that something so good should just
End the way it did.

I will never have a friend like you again.

Friendships like we had don't happen
Every day, where you made me blossom
Like a rose, and I made you shine
Like a star in the sky.

If ever I dreamed so grand a dream to know someone like you,
Never would I have dared to dream that it would actually come true.

Listen, now, please promise me that you will remember to
Open your eyes and see the sky, to cherish the pinks and
Violets of the setting sun, to run through the rain when
Ever it storms in the garden.

When I hear your music I solemnly promise to you that
I will listen intensely and remember how you
Taught me that I could do anything if  only I followed my
Heart and made my dreams come true.

You will be proud of me someday.
Our dreams will not die.
Until we meet again, I bid you peace.

 

 

NOW  (a cinquain)
Kelly Theodor

Now? No...
No time for now.
I've got too much to do.
I promise you I'll get to "now"
Later.

The Bluebird

~kelly theodor

An Introduction to Compaloskepsis
read the sign on the college classroom door.
I paused, and wondered.
Would we shpadoinkle? Masturbate?
College courses ARE liberal these days.
I read further.
This course is offered behind the cellar door,
on a bale of hay, snow optional.
Harrumph!

 I grunted.
These modern neotypes,
nomen conservandums
are never accountable to anything.
They could take activated carbon
to the vanishing point of the desert
and the adhesive of morality would not stick.

Then I saw her.
The most beautiful bluebird I’d ever seen,
entering the door to the classroom.
As an able-bodied seaman
my manhood screaming huzzah
and drowning out all rational thought 
I followed.