We could make believe
we are in love, behind trees
and among blue-green grasses
of a summer's season.
We could whisper in between fields
of wild strawberries and sunflowers.
Drink youth from cool streams.
Hike trails beyond an unknown.
Hide in hills below rain and thunder.
We could make believe
while I am thinking of you,
and you are thinking of me.
 
You came through my open door
with the scent of jasmine in your wary hair
and kissed me.
 
      Lying beside me,
we talked about our dreams, and images
while they drifted with us in shades of sleep
like rivers to the sea.


© 2006 Stanley Noah

Thoughts Upon a Painter's Canvas

red toy boats
on greenhill ponds
and great white sails
 
full as a
woman's breast
breathing wind waves--
horizons wide as any sea,
and rain is music to see--
 
sun apex, then 
all at once
a quit brilliance
off the floor
onto the vacant wall,
terra cotta fills your eyes
 
inside a frame, a dream,
you, looking outward from
an apartment window:
city lights, narrow streets,
shops and bodies in motion
and my slow voice seeking you
to say: "i love you," but failing
to connect--still
 
i want your landscapes, the
edges running through mine,
though it could be madness:
you, in every scene in the
yellowsilk light


© 2006 Stanley Noah

Extensions Connect

My lamp light
reflects off the
 
lifeless TV screen.
Silence is in this room
 
as I read a book.
Characters spring loose
 
and dance their story
on my coffee table like
 
a theatrical stage.  Then
lapped themselves a generation.


© 2006 Stanley Noah

Save the Tiger

a movie i watched, i watched
mr. middle aged
Jack Lemmon aimlessly
walking down lonely streets--
 
i heard
the stark painful sounds
the fingers of a cornet
following and
 
Lemmon's neck tie
slowly choking him with
memories and longings
among crawling city lights


© 2006 Stanley Noah

Home Funeral

the casket looked
larger than life sleeping
in the living room,
but there i was,
three years old;
and an adult picked me up
to see an uncle
i never knew as
it was only
a second or two--
funny how moments
are so long
remembered,
though i am now
twice as old as he
then lying in stillness
in the small--
i can't recall
his face if white; but
i remembered
being lefted, and
seeing his arms crossed,
and hearing a
few weepings
in the background
through out the house,
and a nameless name
and a face
i would never know


© 2006 Stanley Noah

Black Birds in the Tree House Saloons

in dallas city parks
in deep summer days
the trees' red berries begin
fementing like free fat
grapes and home made wine--
 
joyful birds swirl,
get noisy and fly in
flocks aimlessly like
drunken cars above trees
and buildings every
 
afternoon as if happy hour
was meant for them too, and
round twilight people migrate
home while dizzy birds hush-up
in tall trees twenty to a branch


© 2006 Stanley Noah

About the Poet:

Stanley Noah holds a BGS degree from The University of Texas at Dallas and is a member of The Academy of American Poets. His work has appeared in the following: Poesy, Old Red Kimono, Lynx Eye, Red River Review, The Pikeville Review, Eclectica.org and other literary journals in the USA, Britain, Canada and New Zealand.

He spends most of his time watching old movies and hanging out at cafes late into the nights drinking gallons of coffee.

BACK