Poetry by Joyce Middlestead
"Crimson Crescents" was published in Western People in
June 1996:
crimson crescents
that hot summer on the farm time drifted
like dandelion fluff while i on the edge of escape
yearned for the city
lights red yellow green
roaring traffic street cars taxis sirens
the sun caressed whitefaced calves capering
in a field of yellow buffalo beans
curlytailed piglets
squealing brakes fiery pavement crowds of
people pushing heads down
the garden sprouted grew tall green
& fruitful i hated every photosynthetic
demon that sprung wildly between the
rows of clothing racks chic mannequins in
department store windows cash register bells
the tranquillity of big hay lake by moonlight
was a drag i'd sneak there to smoke
huddled in the dark on the damp
bank of montreal woolworths five & dime
greyhound bus depot paramount theatre
i could not imagine that when the noise &
rush had lost its charm i'd dream of that hot
summer on the farm when youth blazed with the sun
& moons were crimson crescents
Copyright © Joyce Middlestead
I wrote these poems before, during, and after the breakup of my marriage.
Thankfully, I've moved on to a happier place now and these have been relegated
to the archives!
paper doll
his farmer hands
scrape her skin like sandpaper
they are meant to
work the land and till the fields
he holds a teacup
as awkwardly as he holds a lady
she is strong
but always fragile in those hands
a paper doll with a paper heart
silence
hissing in her paper head
but eyes down
in the bitter summer soil
she can still hear
the stars
Copyright © Joyce Middlestead
wait
she rises cold
from a patchwork cocoon
stomach tight
empty
kitchen stark and sterile
no frying bacon
no roaring fan
no man
the cats twitch their tails for breakfast
and rub against her legs
leeching for love
while frank sinatra croons
tenderly
from radio 1060
the bellamy brothers lied a different song
...you’ll never be sorry if you let me love you....
all the pretty promises
dead in her head
sizzling blue green pink flowers wait under the virgin snow
wait for the river to flow
wait
Copyright © Joyce Middlestead
first walk back home
nothing has changed but everything alone
trudging down sidewalks past houses ten years shabbier
alone
no small black dog trotting beside me dodging
pools of melted snow missing her missing him
missing us
and down the bike path deserted in the soft near spring
standing at the cliff alone above the river
looking over the vista of city on the other side unfamiliar
from this perspective
more trees filling in the blanks than what you would think from below
tiny houses cluster more neatly empty
more peacefully than what you would think
from below
trudging home
alone to my new address and new status fingers tingling
in the near spring
no small black dog to bark at the
flocks of waxwings rippling in the air like wind in curtains
it's a short straight walk between birth and bones
so strip me clean of ghosts
and let me be
alone
Copyright © Joyce Middlestead
The following three poems were published in "Crossing Place Anthology: 2002 Red
Deer Writers' Festival."
calgary tower
glass morning
reflects silence over the city
high into winter
stabs of mountains on
the white west
there
we gaze
saying nothing but
a ricochet
you
concrete walls
me
concrete walls
we don’t touch
i want to
seize truth by its
savage neck and
shake it in your face
you hide so well
here
high
looking down
Copyright © Joyce Middlestead
rapt in rose petals
you were
always bound by your solitude
in that deep
heartless
well i should have known
a blue patch of promise couldn’t help
you climb i might have
seen but i was
rapt in rose petals and
didn’t feel your
pain
Copyright © Joyce Middlestead
golden eyes
once i could walk the world with
a single stride
once i was the lover of a man with
golden eyes
once i could feel his
soft black hair in the dark brushing my skin
with promises i forgot
once i saw him cut his beard in the woods
the wind blew the twisted strands
into the field and rain drummed down and hammered
them into the mud
once i knew the world with
a single glance
Copyright © Joyce Middlestead
The following poem was published in "Conjunction: 2002 Calgary Stroll
Anthology":
night dream
you slipped
sideways
into my dream
breath hot on my neck
hardness to softness my body
needed your need and
breath fluttered like a
strange bird exploded from
that black tunnel of
night to awake alone
lean shadows
barren blackness
outside
the wind worried the tarp
covering the firewood while
i swung the axe
cut the damning cord
Copyright © Joyce Middlestead
The following two poems were published in "Crossing Place Anthology: 2003 Red
Deer Writers' Festival."
City Dogs and City Men
City dogs and city men
howl at night
yank at the ends of chains
shiver at the moon that lives in
my window
I'm held alone by warm walls
and silence beats strong in this space
that fierce gnaw from abdominal cavity to teeth
only a faded photo in an album
in a closet
The hush ripples from room to room
and out into the garden when the heat of day
rises from black soil like a voodoo spell and
grass begs for that chill spray
and dark flowers drink from my hand
Now all I hear is the whisper of water on leaves
and from the street a roar of motors
Copyright © Joyce Middlestead
heathen gardens
languid flush of streetlights here
on the summer boulevard
terracotta pots burn with pinks and
purples overflowing shop planters
and girls in shorts smoke as they stride
no secrets in this heat
flash of headlights in dusky eyes
bump bump of the beat
long fingernails
flash of fluorescence
and girls in pert shorts smoke and laugh
bump bump of the beat
open windows
guys in snappy pink and purple cars
in their orbital roar the garden
shakes here in the dark
hear the dark
the tremble of musk
like a matisse portrait not quite
aligned dig your toes into hot soil
under the flaming natal
moon
Copyright © Joyce Middlestead
Visit Joy's wonderful website at:
http://www.geocities.com/morgansdream/joy.html
