Poems by Mike Van Meter

Compiled in no particular order

REFUGE

(for Ruth)

Mantle clock
timeless heartbeat
embracing mourning
friendship joy

Panthers roam
eloquent silence
gentle healing
contented life

Loving hands
dawn e-mail
kitchen sunlight
fresh beginning

July 1997

SPRING TRAINING

Pine roots'
fractional growth
cracks bonds
in twenty-three ton
basalt block

sends wave down
ice-fed waters
that cannot chill
oh!
Canada geese
set on ruffling
each other's feathers.

Bitterbrush clenches
tiny green fists
awaits first pitch
as the anthem plays.

April 1999

MURDER AT THE LA GRANDE OBSERVER

(With apologies to Tom Madden)

They say a bit of the writer's soul
goes into everything he writes. With
every rejection, deletion or other
censure part of the writer
disappears.
My life depends on a fingerprint
thin
airspace
inside a Compugraphic UTS 1210
wordprocessor. Headcrash?
Look inside my skull when that
Beast (like an editor who thinks
every story is too long) satisfies
its appetites with the EOSC
boxscore
or the janitorial worklist.

May 1982

MAJESTIC

In a clump of grass -
an ancient white
enameled stove.

Fifteen rust-
connected bullet
holes have missed
the word
Majestic

in fine black script
on the oven door.

May 1982

FINALS WEEK FANTASY

Mentally emaciated students make a comic
book pilgrimage to the Walter J. Pierce Library.
Reserve materials assigned a term
ago to be learned by tomorrow.
A stoic Rhino-potamus watches intently
amused by the seriousness of it all.

Students hate to stand in line, form
two abreast at IBM xerox machines.
"Revolt, downtrodden," shouts the Rhino-P.
"Throw off the paper chains which bind thee."
"Hush," says the banana tree.
"Thou art art, not learning."

December 1982, with Dave Campbell

ON THE 50th BIRTHDAY OF BONNEVILLE DAM

Does your concrete and steel conscience
weigh heavy with two-and-one-half
billion salmon who might have been?

Not even primeval instincts could get
them over experimental fish ladders.

August 1982

CAMPUS SNOW

Japanese women twirl like 5-year-olds,
throw faces and open jackets to sky
their voices like temple chimes
take turns capturing on film a joy
decades and the Pacific Ocean cannot dim.

January 1999

SOLSTICE

My friend, I see clear brown eyes
and know that you have felt the cries
of black glow that marks the edge
between flat Earth and Dragon's flames.

Sun says spring ... we know it lies
when bitter wind tells icy truth
of winter's tombstone memories
that now I live and you have lived.

The wind the wind it never lies
through warmth of spring and summer skies
the wind it tells a truth of death
and winter's icy, sure reprise.

Now I live unending scream
and wonder if this life obscene
will see Savior or if Jesus
is forever returning soon.

Alone alone romantic steps
of railroad ties and barren brush
and budding trees that trick
the soul with hopes for life.

The wind the wind it never lies
through warmth of spring and summer skies
the wind it tells a truth of death
and winter's icy, sure reprise.

April 1997

PDT

Beware the beginning of Daylight Time
When accidents rise to the level of crime.
Beware beware first Monday in April
When time cursed time can lit'rally kill.

Beware the mean and scruffulous editor
Seeking reporter but finding no sign of her.
Beware beware great possible harm
And please remember to set your alarm.

April 1997

ROGUE SUNRISE

Delta Waters Boulevard:
Perfect person lets
perfect pooch poop.
Paper girl rides
rollerblades over
sidewalk joints.

Foothill Road:
Perfect pot of coffee,
bleached hair glowing
as gold light pours
through home,
perfect view lot.

Cedar Hills Drive:
Purple marathon
shirt, faded holes
tight on paunch,
pumping up hill,
banging tin sign,
35 mph! loud enough
for perfect punctuation.

November 1996