Tuesday, January 20, 2009


Death Will Meet Me
© carol voccia 2009

Death will gently meet me in the desert
Offering to quench my last thirst

Holding up a cup of spring to wash away my dry
Let me dive into it like a canyon wind
Sipping the endless drink
I will swallow whole the world and sky
Clinging to the moon in silent

Dress me in a drape of stars
Declare my dust and
Blow my ashes to the sun
Keep me warm in the endless dark
Death will keep me in the dew
Holding tight its arid frost
Marrying me in the ground forever

Until we meet again in the howling desert
I will gently meet you with a cup of spring

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Dying is Hard Business


© carol shoot 2008

 

Gravity presses the throat

Each breath labors in shallow gasps

The sky mocks the air sucking in and out

Nailing stained sheets with grey sweat

And clammy brine

Steel eyes stare to the world beyond

Mouth parched and gaping, calling home

Too late for prayers

For they are being answered with

Tapping time slowly measured in

A hollow drum

         A faded beat

A white rain

Suspended silent in its last reflecting drop

Saturday, January 3, 2009

The Rock in January





 

The Rock in January  writen in reference to my days in San Luis Obispo County and Morro Bay California  (c) carol voccia 2007

The spine of the ancient valley

All but disintegrated into dust

Save the last vertebrate

Poking its rugged slate in the sand

    Lapping surf edged horizontal to the Morro.

 

A moss drenched reminder that

Once lava flowed to the sea

And the earth quaked in spasms

Along the San Andréa's and other slips of rock

Inching minuscule moments

As one continental plate went north

    The other traveled south over

        Ten million millenniums of time

 

The valley of sweeping grass feeding bovine, steer

Fragile lambs, sheep and herds of goats and other hooves

Furrowing sweet roots and thick green blades  

As the centuries moved from native brown to Spanish monks

Thieves of land squatter, settler, merchant and rogues of commerce

Farmers and cattle ranchers prevailed

While the rock stood stoic

         Silently guarding the gores

                Of fishermen belching and hooking the gills

                  Of the seas bounty

 

    

The bay lying at its feet took

Shape designed by a huge sand bar running north and south

Dredged its depths for docks

But not deep enough to host monumental ships of enterprise

Housing only small craft and sail boats lazily bobbing in the sandy shallows

Lapping along the tranquil bay

And the rock stood stalwart casting a granite eye

                        Over green waters watching, its brooding eroded jetty

                        Ragged and seaworthy

Glanced to the wide pacific

      Peering in fog and some time slanting sun streams

                  Over vasts of sea to thin horizon promising

                             Exotic places far in its endless west.

 

And, here I stand along a humble wooden dock

             Soaked in briny salt

             Grey dappled sweater wrapped around me

              Rose cheeks lifting a smile

                                       On my lips

Contemplating along lines of water tide and crashing wave

Small gulls over head cawing against

             Water breeze and slapping swells

 

All history brings to this place

      My standing watch, gazing, and thinking

Of the others before me and the ones who will follow

Tossing the moments of wind and bobbing boats

My mind strikes against the

Sea leaking its cross against tides

 Gashing cliffs chucking up abalone hulls

For gulls to pluck and feed from the bounteous pacific

 

It's the end of another year

And the beginning of all that is new and unfolding

As the sea and the eye of its grey mineral rock

           Casts its arm and lava breast to the west kissing the

                                     Angled sun

 

 Hold up the coastline, my friend,

               For a trillion more moments

               As I turn and start a new January