John LeMasney

April 30, 2008 at 1:56 pm (Uncategorized) ()


Shorehouse Skylight

In a house in the woods
we’ve had 50 years in our family,
a soft edged
rectangle of light
moves a few feet per hour.
Across the rug
across the tile
towards the wall
sometimes brighter,
sometimes flickering,
other times darker.

The room has
a breeze from the fans,
which rock and knock the pull chains
into the glass globe bulb cover
over and over and over,
but besides that, it’s silent and still.

But when your arm or leg passes
through the shaft of light,
you can remember
the hot, bright sun,
the burning sand on your feet,
the salt in your nose,
the roar and squeak in your ears
of crashing waves and scavenging birds,
just a few miles from the house.

Lights in the Snow

Snow brings a hush
that quiets the horn,
yet windows nearby
start to light.
A car lay on the roadside,
a two ton turtle
on its shell.

Sirens sound miles away while
open jowls gather.
Flashlights shine on
the snowy tracks that go
onto the curb and into the lightpole.

A little girl watches
the white turn transparent,
when the flakes, with a hiss,
lick the muffler.

He hangs in his seatbelt,
his hands sweep the roof,
while the people
stand and stare.

Lazarus

His eyebrows moved like seesaws
over wet and bloody bulbous eyes.
When he spoke,
the lips would stretch wide,
so you saw the
back of his tongue.
His darkness
made his teeth
seem to float.

He worked the middle
of the sidewalk,
always walking.
Moving, not stopping.
He’d shift his weight
bringing his body
into the path of each walker,
his face closely tilted into other faces.
His long arms,
well defined, slim,
stretched above his head,
moved in independent funnels,
then returned to his side,
swaying back and forth.
I’m just like Lazarus,
just like him.
Back from the dead,
that’s me!
Nickel or a dime,
what you can spare
you can spare!
I’ll pray for you, mister,
I’ll pray, cause hey, man,
I’m like Lazarus!

I saw one man
almost knock another over
just to go around.
I stopped,
put a hand in my pocket.

You’ll be saved, Mister!
Saved!
Because Jesus watches,
Jesus knows!
He can see you
inside!

I brought out three coins,
all that I had just then,
a dime, a nickel, a penny.

As he walked to my right,
he cupped my hand
from underneath,
and threw it in the air.

Behind me, the coins fell.
He began to shout again.

I’m just like Lazarus,
back from the dead.
Bread on my table,
joy on your soul,
I only ask for your love
and a little change.

John LeMasney is an artist, designer, husband, father, technologist, consultant, writer, poet and open source evangelist living and working in New Jersey. John believes in the openness of thought, the transparency of ideas, and the sharing of everything. John feels personally that the best poetry is that which can be tasted, smelled, seen, touched, and heard. Great poetic work captures the beauty of the magic of everyday life without coercing you to believe in its magic.

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