Five Poems

by Daniel Edward Moore



The Sky’s Prayer

 

Our ozone who art in heaven

who graced the world’s spinning skull

like a helmet made for warriors,

now a veil of smokey lace

in the yellow teeth of progress,

hallowed be thy name. 

 

Your fire falls to earth

as we bring ours to heaven.

 

Consumed by the carbs of more & better,

we gave you our daily bread

baked in delusion’s ovens.

 

Forgive the flames of greed that turned

clouds to ashen storms, as we cannot

forgive ourselves for making earth a memory.

 

Deliver us from evil

or the fantasy at least.

 

You, the crown that fit us all,

worn until we lost it,

making clouds of ocean steam

the power and the glory.


*Originally published by Notre Dame Review

Wilderness Weary

 

If there’s one thing I’m not

it’s wilderness weary.

 

Give me Fir trees in heels

seducing the stars

with eagle eyeliner

smeared across heaven.

 

Give me black muddy runways

of perilous fields

where Trumpeter swans

blow horns for coyotes.

 

Earth is the biggest Queen

I know, all stubble & lipstick,

ripped nylons

and sorrow.


*Originally published by Hamilton Stone Review

Estimated Time of Repair

 

With no signs of normal returning,

only computer screens on fire, you

 

never wore the smoke of a hero’s cologne,

called late night rescue or dragged through a window.

 

Not all flames submit to technology’s promiscuous

choice of plugs. For some, a hole is just a hole,

 

but not to the shovel’s rusty blade opening the ground

like a lover’s tongue to bury what may or may not bloom.

 

That tiny light at the bottom of the screen flickering for its mother,

knows letters on the keyboard will soon be ash, and Daddy’s not coming home.


*Originally published by Panoply Magazine

To Know Utterly What You’ll Never Be

                                                                                 

What mortality lacks in multiple choice

she makes up for in torrential tears

anointing hands on the cradle’s bars

then flowing to graves on a hill,

tucked between trees

like a dead preacher’s shirt.

 

If harm is all the evidence needed

to prove I took the test,

maybe choices are rotten wood

dressing trees from the chimney with ash

and Spring is when the world’s dark womb

pushes as hard as it can.

 

Our ears will be blessed

with screaming things

and that look in her eye,

the one about leaves

forgetting how to stay.

You know what that means.

*Originally published by Southern Humanities Review

Dear Neo-Pastoral

 

When beauty, my inner pageant queen

walked the runway of infected veins

with an ancient book on her head, sad

 

for how knowledge, a distraction accessory,

made nothing balanced or better, someone

had to tell her. Worshipping flowers is hard,

 

finding comfort in colors with paper thin lives

shredded by the wind’s cold hands will not be

the first time a woman’s glory cannot not save a man.

 

There’s a homicidal hornet coming for you

but first it will

sting something pretty.

*Originally published by Wilderness House Literary Review

BIO: Daniel Edward Moore lives in Washington on Whidbey Island. His work is forthcoming in Xavier Review, The Meadow Journal, Panoply Magazine, The Stillwater Review, Clackamas Literary Review, Sagebrush Review, Gyroscope Review and River and South Review. His book, “Waxing the Dents,” is from Brick Road Poetry Press.

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