Jessica Wickens
3 poems
**
We studied the sky and multiplied
It’s taller than I remembered, the sun setting fast
beautiful boat chills, every wind consistent. Me in
a red shirt, walking alone a forgotten pleasure and
the clouds move on so quickly.
your Crow’s nest
delicate shadow
haphazard tiger
my anger is inflatable
rolls like coconuts
keeps closing the window
like a nanny in the storm
Just sleep it off dear/ The tree is clapping for us/
and for the little guy/ with the rolling cart down
the dock/ Coast Guard radios thrust into/ the sky again/
the bellows mild/ the waves line up little/ with no shore to/ finish/
words are a stiff neck....I could go all day though....to these birthday parties
hollow clack, seagull cement.
another nature, honks and megaphones, a perfectly quiet day.
downtown versus
...downtown, battle in the distance. closes at 9.
........................................................................opens at 10.
........................................................................come back this way.
we ate salted Louisiana
fish on the prairie. nearly starved
in winter, starved in solidarity,
trailing me, hair, wood,
chewed by locusts, kept
feet near stolen earth,
missed something, long time
ago lost.
I couldn’t dial the right number or climb
the high rope. A razzle dazzle lightning show.
Neglected. Overboard as usual. Beside these
dreams, I love to see your faces
on dark nights on airplanes.
Rain slanting on the window, the brave light at the end of the wing.
..................I made those green leaves tinged with red
..................to flutter in the afternoon
..................and stretches of brick pink and grey,
..................shadow of fence and lamppost
..................I found a nail and cut it out,
..................sent a cool breeze to trouble your faces
**
All That Ocean
We don’t waste much. Life after life after life and knee pain, stiffening
on the line. We made her cold and dry first. Then like a nursery rhyme, motion
sick, she’s not looking to start anything with horses. Can we make it
more true? Rituals, Mondays, temporary lifts, hope
to see entirely. Daily-ness, report from within,
tongues that cried. The road dropping under us.
slid
chair to floor....made ear holes
hands
in daylight
brought all sleeplessness into
honorary dreams, just the ring of them
our best mystery.......was patience....was wrapping us
back across the piano/ the weekend’s settled/ the song you say/ pipeline/ say peanuts he says I’m alone he says/ again/ they say supermarket/ Juliard/ awkward knot/ you say sadness after migratory birds/ she says one thing many paths/ I say unaffected you say not admitting affect/ you say cyclical/ he says tap dance what a drag she can’t dog it/ they say amen pigtails and tasteful/ I say where’d today go/ I check my comb he says it’s about time/ she says cat burglar but I might rather say all in time/ my caught fish vibrant/ pick again and make our feet
descended the night down and scurried..hard as Paradise
we scrubbed them one by one
complicated crimes....a certain wizard
had no power to withhold his devotion
his moral full tone sorrow....I’ve offended it again
up to my chin in salt water....the earth
the preceding night had frozen as it fell
we found a little bottle in the declining sun
threw a veil over the window
sky so brilliant and close..trembling
ancient stain what a pity it wouldn’t
but we waited a few minutes just to see
**
Night Knows
I tell no secrets...little chest of pearls...not come a bit of this light
to be old...to ride the gate on his last farewell
kind quite savage...pierce bone and bone...snatch the silent crumbling walls
cast bloom of other mornings...my strange and easy mind
snows slowly...seen stirring...would not object to the sailor's sky
She never fails to light the danger up
diamonds in a house above...unravel yet
Anguish finds the grace secure...ceases to rise...that very Medicine
that mysterious dream the pink Cheek....sympathy
Sleep that ended...a smile may not be taken...should every passing word
seem stronger...that I have lost another friend
waiting until he left us...sundered...another spring might invite him
how rugged we leave him...the accustomed guest...a moment like an evening star
came to the Door...first Antiquity...then a frailty we think unchanged
if I liked the cold mellow Rain luscious dripping of February
Father having made up his mind...I thought of other Violets
to wish for...not attempt to fly...so we have Paradise superfluous
He will bring one less day to gather the long pilgrimage
Is it all murmuring...do I repine
Some new green hardly an outdoor thing...the grass begins
upon this April...Words put their mornings on
an empty house..some urgent errand
and we sit side by side for those in my garden...fade the one below
God grant we forgetful and crumbling things
that they flew so........wings half gone to dust forever dwell
in time and sense and so forth
God tell we glided the upper air...no schoolboy's theme
never fails that old nail...pricked remained in the brain
with beautiful reluctance...in your Garden utterly guideless
A terrific headway God...still as a ballad hummed a song
her poor Patience perished short and full...hands so
God as ardent as Dark Eyed Mr....few are safe
please deny the Madonna her sweet ladies...and gentlemen
if I ever dreamed I'm dreaming now...becoming improbable Light
Each night finds my lungs...grows graphic...calls the human heart
powder wine an astral wind more breathless
your open Fire...sanctity that Pause...Rose and Bud
lost for you...come with your sled...no Bridge...water deeper bore you
gave her hand...go with it...seek what it means almost speaks
........so narrow...untried...confiding
All year such...could never be written...heat and dust change one's sky
we forget the precious one...holds on feeble...paints sweet rest
they will all go but me...they the rust can reach...I gathered them
Because night knows
shines brighter our way...could make all I wish
holy...I touch strange blooms easy quick to love
much fragments to the hills look blue as a wringing plume
Night speak a word to you dreary night...about the bare idea
of morning...the sake of seeing...and close the gloom
from our minds...illness deepens and darkens every flake day sky
bloom dying word indeed
**
return to sawbuck 3.3
**
Jessica Wickens’ poems have recently appeared in Denver Quarterly, Little Red Leaves, Spell, Mirage and Anything Anymore Anywhere. She has studied at University of Chicago and California College of the Arts. She co-edits the literary journal Monday Night and recently founded Skeptic Press.
**
We studied the sky and multiplied
It’s taller than I remembered, the sun setting fast
beautiful boat chills, every wind consistent. Me in
a red shirt, walking alone a forgotten pleasure and
the clouds move on so quickly.
your Crow’s nest
delicate shadow
haphazard tiger
my anger is inflatable
rolls like coconuts
keeps closing the window
like a nanny in the storm
Just sleep it off dear/ The tree is clapping for us/
and for the little guy/ with the rolling cart down
the dock/ Coast Guard radios thrust into/ the sky again/
the bellows mild/ the waves line up little/ with no shore to/ finish/
words are a stiff neck....I could go all day though....to these birthday parties
hollow clack, seagull cement.
another nature, honks and megaphones, a perfectly quiet day.
downtown versus
...downtown, battle in the distance. closes at 9.
........................................................................opens at 10.
........................................................................come back this way.
we ate salted Louisiana
fish on the prairie. nearly starved
in winter, starved in solidarity,
trailing me, hair, wood,
chewed by locusts, kept
feet near stolen earth,
missed something, long time
ago lost.
I couldn’t dial the right number or climb
the high rope. A razzle dazzle lightning show.
Neglected. Overboard as usual. Beside these
dreams, I love to see your faces
on dark nights on airplanes.
Rain slanting on the window, the brave light at the end of the wing.
..................I made those green leaves tinged with red
..................to flutter in the afternoon
..................and stretches of brick pink and grey,
..................shadow of fence and lamppost
..................I found a nail and cut it out,
..................sent a cool breeze to trouble your faces
**
All That Ocean
We don’t waste much. Life after life after life and knee pain, stiffening
on the line. We made her cold and dry first. Then like a nursery rhyme, motion
sick, she’s not looking to start anything with horses. Can we make it
more true? Rituals, Mondays, temporary lifts, hope
to see entirely. Daily-ness, report from within,
tongues that cried. The road dropping under us.
slid
chair to floor....made ear holes
hands
in daylight
brought all sleeplessness into
honorary dreams, just the ring of them
our best mystery.......was patience....was wrapping us
back across the piano/ the weekend’s settled/ the song you say/ pipeline/ say peanuts he says I’m alone he says/ again/ they say supermarket/ Juliard/ awkward knot/ you say sadness after migratory birds/ she says one thing many paths/ I say unaffected you say not admitting affect/ you say cyclical/ he says tap dance what a drag she can’t dog it/ they say amen pigtails and tasteful/ I say where’d today go/ I check my comb he says it’s about time/ she says cat burglar but I might rather say all in time/ my caught fish vibrant/ pick again and make our feet
descended the night down and scurried..hard as Paradise
we scrubbed them one by one
complicated crimes....a certain wizard
had no power to withhold his devotion
his moral full tone sorrow....I’ve offended it again
up to my chin in salt water....the earth
the preceding night had frozen as it fell
we found a little bottle in the declining sun
threw a veil over the window
sky so brilliant and close..trembling
ancient stain what a pity it wouldn’t
but we waited a few minutes just to see
**
Night Knows
I tell no secrets...little chest of pearls...not come a bit of this light
to be old...to ride the gate on his last farewell
kind quite savage...pierce bone and bone...snatch the silent crumbling walls
cast bloom of other mornings...my strange and easy mind
snows slowly...seen stirring...would not object to the sailor's sky
She never fails to light the danger up
diamonds in a house above...unravel yet
Anguish finds the grace secure...ceases to rise...that very Medicine
that mysterious dream the pink Cheek....sympathy
Sleep that ended...a smile may not be taken...should every passing word
seem stronger...that I have lost another friend
waiting until he left us...sundered...another spring might invite him
how rugged we leave him...the accustomed guest...a moment like an evening star
came to the Door...first Antiquity...then a frailty we think unchanged
if I liked the cold mellow Rain luscious dripping of February
Father having made up his mind...I thought of other Violets
to wish for...not attempt to fly...so we have Paradise superfluous
He will bring one less day to gather the long pilgrimage
Is it all murmuring...do I repine
Some new green hardly an outdoor thing...the grass begins
upon this April...Words put their mornings on
an empty house..some urgent errand
and we sit side by side for those in my garden...fade the one below
God grant we forgetful and crumbling things
that they flew so........wings half gone to dust forever dwell
in time and sense and so forth
God tell we glided the upper air...no schoolboy's theme
never fails that old nail...pricked remained in the brain
with beautiful reluctance...in your Garden utterly guideless
A terrific headway God...still as a ballad hummed a song
her poor Patience perished short and full...hands so
God as ardent as Dark Eyed Mr....few are safe
please deny the Madonna her sweet ladies...and gentlemen
if I ever dreamed I'm dreaming now...becoming improbable Light
Each night finds my lungs...grows graphic...calls the human heart
powder wine an astral wind more breathless
your open Fire...sanctity that Pause...Rose and Bud
lost for you...come with your sled...no Bridge...water deeper bore you
gave her hand...go with it...seek what it means almost speaks
........so narrow...untried...confiding
All year such...could never be written...heat and dust change one's sky
we forget the precious one...holds on feeble...paints sweet rest
they will all go but me...they the rust can reach...I gathered them
Because night knows
shines brighter our way...could make all I wish
holy...I touch strange blooms easy quick to love
much fragments to the hills look blue as a wringing plume
Night speak a word to you dreary night...about the bare idea
of morning...the sake of seeing...and close the gloom
from our minds...illness deepens and darkens every flake day sky
bloom dying word indeed
**
return to sawbuck 3.3
**
Jessica Wickens’ poems have recently appeared in Denver Quarterly, Little Red Leaves, Spell, Mirage and Anything Anymore Anywhere. She has studied at University of Chicago and California College of the Arts. She co-edits the literary journal Monday Night and recently founded Skeptic Press.
Labels: 3.3, jessica wickens
