Monday, November 18, 2013

Tom Hatch- Three Poems

The Big Picture

The plan seems so simple trouble-free
The job, the homework, the everyday
The ball bearings are oiled the wheels on a bicycle spin
With ease my home bound train starts then stops
The fan and air stops too the car is dark… coughs
Providence the noticed hope the train moves on
The lights pass from the outside's darkest chrome
Through the window wind forced trees
Then crossing over a highway
Its traffic perpendicular head lights shine
the high speed of their side glance coming in
The red lights receding moving fast away
This is a simple coming and going
The train’s motion transporting smoothly
Fast past the street lights blink and wink
through the eye lids of the leaves
The plan wanting
Seemingly to be simple uncomplicated the train slows down
A man carrying his little sleeping boy
With a head on a shoulder holding
Tight for warmth in the windy night
It’s so uncomplicated simple but optimism senses
a complicated thought maintaining it all
A hammer bends the driven nail
Then it is time to use the claw

The Bridge

There was a wealthy enclave
That bordered a beautiful
Blue river. The houses
On the river and area were worth plenty
The houses grew in value
As the area could not out grow
The rivers edge. This man bought
All the property on the other
Side of the beautiful river many acres
He was a structural engineer
He went to the state proposed
To design and
Build a grey galvanized bridge
On the edge of the wealthy
Expensive homed enclave
He would finance half the cost of
The bridge
The state agreed when the bridge
Was completed this man had possession
Of many acres that expanded
The much sought after enclave
Although it became mostly
Upper middle class...the bridge builder
became a multi millionaire
Back in the 1960's when
There were no environment
Impact laws then he became
A great benefactor of the arts
Sitting in his corner office
Thinking about the deer, the foxes
And the skunks

Adios Crimson Light

There is a daily misfortune or fortune
the pink salmon cannot swim downstream again
cherry pie lighten sweet and tart and red stop lights go green
It is always from the white light through a prism
A fading of appearances confused under that
powerful light not being awake
Some thoughts are not quite out of my mind
churned half and half between here and
coffee I knowingly see
That god goddess Dawn
Not moving on to tomorrow yet but soon
Her magic turning long shadows into day
Looking up as she waves winking at me and the blue sky
she has the most fleeting voice and
figure dancing in a thong, garter belt and bra
Jumping off every eastern window sill
I wanted to tell her about dusk whom
She will never meet


Tom paid his dues in the SoHo art scene way back when. He was awarded two NEA grants for sculpture back then. And taught at various colleges and universities in the NYC metro area in art (including Princeton and U of Penn. in Philly). He is published widely around the net. He lives in CT with a few farms up and down the road works in Manhattan. His train ride to and from NYC is his solace, study and den where it all begins and ends.

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