The Stationary Traveler
I have to remember everything, keep track of the blades of grass, the threads of the untidy event, and the houses, inch by inch, the long lines of the railway, the textured face of pain. -Pablo Neruda 1 dark farewell I looked for you on the hill but saw only bridal veil hugging the fence like a cluster of stars demanding nothing but its own illumination 2 the confusion What is misunderstood is the beaker of light reeking of rain floating through sleep in a cross-hatch of such shadows that the light is indistinguishable from the scar that dims sunlight against the frail skin of the dream, far too sensitive for knives of enlightenment. What is misunderstood is the beaker of light floating through sleep. It is taken for a dark flower between moon and sun, a deadly nightshade in full bloom, eclipsing everything that is both bright and clouded 3 meditation (on light) slant of light through maples sparks the heels of childhood dance darkens the corridor of the dream ignites the moth’s aura into feverish spirals of white amid the blurred beating of porous wings directionless maps leading nowhere but inward- the eternal wake the self-portrait no one sees 4 the blessing Spanish jazz on the hot night and I think of you in the ghetto touching me. You said, Has bendicido el palpitar de mi corazon con tus ojos. 5 serenade beneath the shadow of the dream Clouds in a caravan of shredded sky move motionless against direction. I come from the mountains like wind, like mercury, tambourines rattling in my eyes, men with guitars painting the night orange, green, silver. My earrings flash in moonlight, round wands of magic, glass lightning illuminating your face, dancing tambourines in your eyes, a serenade of dark men with black hair in bright wagons. And I hand you the plan we cannot touch- to love like the sea and yet like a raindrop. 6 returning The dew electrifying the fields is quick to burn and certain, yet returns with each new birth of the moon.
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John L. Stanizzi’s books are Ecstasy Among Ghosts, Sleepwalking, Dance Against the Wall, After The Bell, Hallelujah Time!, HighTide-Ebb Tide, Four Bits, Chants, Sundowning, POND, The Tree That Lights The Way Home, Feathers and Bones. Besides Rabid Oak, John’s poetry has appeared in American Life in Poetry curated by Ted Kooser, The New York Quarterly, Tar River Poetry, Rattle, Passages North,and lots more. His work has been translated into Italian and appears widely in Italy. His translator is the Italian scholar, Angela D’Ambra. His nonfiction has been published in Literature and Belief, Stone Coast Review, Ovunque Siamo, Potato Soup Journal, after the pause, and others. A former Wesleyan University Etherington Scholar, John has been an adjunct Professor of English, Manchester (CT) Community College for 26 years, while teaching full time at Bacon Academy in Colchester, CT. In 1998, he was named The New England Poet of the Year by The New England Association of Teachers of English. In 2021, John received a grant in Creative Writing-Non Fiction from the State of Connecticut Commission on Arts and Culture. He lives in Coventry with his wife, Carol.