Two Ghosts: Poems

By Lyn Rochelle

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 22, 2008
• ISBN: 9781465324054

Lyn Rochelle

The poet, Lyn Rochelle, is also a playwright and an artist who works in collage. In this book, words are placed in colorful and diverse settings, becoming small movies, with the same sense of mystery and humor as her collages.

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Copyright © 2008 by Lyn Rochelle.

Cover Design by Lyn Rochelle

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Contents

A THEORY OF CREATIVITY

K 165/ PROOF

SHORTCOMINGS OF IMMORTALITY

THREADS

BALM

BUDDHA’S WAY

GOING TO TIBET

CALENDULA

TREETOPS

WHAT REMAINS

MEMENTO

THE WINDOW

CAT

ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT

AMAZONS

CHILDS PLAY

A BEGGAR

THE PROPER GUIDE

MEDITATION

A PHOTOGRAPH OF OCEAN BEACH

SOUNDLESS

TO WAIT

TWO GHOSTS

LADIES IN WAITING

COFFEE BREAK

EXCUSE

OLD GIRL

THE KARMA OF GRASS

ARIES

IN LOVE WITH BEAUTY

NOVENA

RECIPE

HAIR

FENCE

AGAIN

APPLE

LEAVING THE BEACH

THE TRAVELER

IN THE DARK

HAPPINESS

GREEN

DEAR JOHN

LISTENING TO MUDDY WATERS

ASLEEP

A DECK OF CARDS

THICKENING PLOTS

THE LIFE I DIDN’T LEAD…

THE DIRECTION OF WATER

TIMING

SNOW DRIFTING

DAWN IN GREENE COUNTY

THE CENSUS OF THE BIRDS

JUDGMENT DAY AGAIN/ 9/11

RILYA

POINTS OF VIEW

THE DOCTOR

THE GIRL

THE PHOTOGRAPHER

ECHO LAKE

BREAKING GLASS

HOW KARMA WORKS

LAST RITES

DOWNHILL

THE WITNESS

HALLOWEEN IN PARIS

THE PEACHES OF SAINT-PAUL

MONKEY SHINES

BLUE BLOOD

BEST FOR LAST

Dedicated to… .

Dori, Jon, Alexandra,

and all the cats we’ve loved.

A THEORY OF CREATIVITY

The bang that scattered vaporous mist,

spread by design or not,

became a ceaseless panorama

of spinning worlds.

Without science watching, black holes

ingested the stars. There was no mystery.

Where does the eaten universe go,

but to the beginning, turning itself

inside out like a worn sock?

Nothing in the universe needs us

but Art

Art puts a shimmer on the Word,

gives the Earth its heart.

Only Art needs us.

"The soul should always stand ajar, ready to

welcome the ecstatic experience."

Emily Dickinson

THE NEXT PLACE

I entered the church and stood at the back

of the room of symbols. The glow of the

Rose Window seemed to bring heaven closer,

as saints and lambs were fixed in time

and shaped by colored glass.

Was this the next place for me? To be delivered

by the redeemer, kneel in a pew

on a velvet cushion, lean my head forward, and come

to rest on wood, dare to talk to God

in another way? Take a wafer on my tongue

to chew or melt, I knew not which, and then

become intoxicated by the Holy wine?

Would the priest know that I was not like him,

that I was just being born? Could he