Monday, 26 June 2017

F Fic, Non-fic

Poetry by Marianne Lyon

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My Real Name

I turn onto gentle spill of vineyard path

smell beginnings of fragrant wine

inside one long aromatic moment

a wine-word sticks in mischievous breeze

What if I my name were Cabernet?

A rich red-lipped juicy poetess

complex with strong legs

French like my real name-Marianne

Croatian Dad named me.

Why the French spelling, Dad?

Why not Zora, Katica, Ivonka?

Ms. Cabernet deftly sashays onward

delight dances in my every feature

I begin to baptize myself with names:

            Diva Genie

                        Singing Gypsy

                                    Harmonious Hawk

                                                Melodious Hurrah

            Soul seeker

                        Heavenly spring

                                    Star host

                                                Howling moon

                                                           

I pause long enough to muse

taste these new names for a moment

“But he named me” a voice rings inside

I know I am Marianne

Inside I hold Dad’s smile

his velvet voice knelling, Marianne

lifting, holding me close as life

Inside I hear the song tingle:

            “All Day, All Night Marianne,”

Yesterday, today, tomorrow

I am Marianne

shortened to Mar

nick-named Sweet Pea

But inside, I am three

love-filled syllables

I hear his voice continue the croon:

            “Down by the seaside, siftin’ sand”.

Night Sky-People

Some radiate out

     like spokes of a wheel

Some walk alone

     their luster conceal

Some cluster close

   protect their young

Some glow only

   in their native tongue

Some meteor bright stage

   like Fred Astaire

Some duet with John Legend

   igniting a prayer

Some glint sacred visions

   of the Great Beginning

Some howl, ablaze wildly

   old fairytales unfolding

Some fading-luster walkers

   Some pulsing playpens

Some falling-star Billionaires

   Some poor chanting “Amens”

Some jewels just baptized

   all shiny and new

Some fashion rhyming verses

   other poets-stars think taboo

Glittering Comforts

Poe begins his verse

Twas noontide of summer

and mid-time of night

insomnia grips me

wool blanket, flashlight

collection of star poems

Look at the stars

look how they shine for you

Coldplay lyrics walk with me

to sandy rim of stony beach

 

Back in my house

I am child-frightened

boogie man under my bed

ghouls in linen closet

like Galileo-I have loved the

stars too fondly to be fearful of night.

Tonight these shards of light

a quiet magic protects me

How they cluster

in Frosts eyes

How countlessly

they congregate

I begin to connect the

diamond dots, give them

epic names, make them family

Blake hails

Fair haired angels

Hopkins invents Fire–folk

I inhale these Glittering Comforts

magically childhood memories

comet from hiding places:

Dad roasting marshmallows

over glowing embers

cuddled under frayed afghan

Grams electric fireplace

crackles me asleep

dancing candles flames

navigate innocent prayers to heaven

I fix my eyes on these Comforts

Tonight, look how they shine for me


 

Marianne Lyon has been a music teacher for 39 years. After teaching in Hong Kong she returned to the Napa Valley and has been published in various literary magazines and reviews. Nominated for the Pushcart Prize 2016. She is a member of the California Writers Club, Healdsburg Literary Guild. She is an Adjunct Professor at Touro University Vallejo California

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