Rushing Rio Grande

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Rushing Rio Grande by Greg Powell

Dad to diaper- Daughter death Hug drowned in America. The decline From Hell pit to Shit hole. What Was that last hug Like Rushing Rio Grande? Was it The final bye like Terminal expiration In hospital without The pause to grieve. Or was there time: Grinding slowly, tears And river, screams stifled Burbling speech silenced Muted by lungs filling. Like […]

Storm

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Storm a poem by Greg Powell

The storm is coming The storm is here No time for trifling No time for fear The mystic revelation The mystic demonstration Is love Love live love The imps are winning The imps are bold Never satisfied With what they stole The mystic revelation The mystic demonstration Is love Love life love What you reap You got to sow The […]

Love Notes for Twenty Two Years

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Greg Powell Love Notes for Deborah on their 22nd Anniversary

(For Deborah Ann Powell on our 22rd Marriage Anniversary) blessed groove of days as good as music melodies rhythms riffing relentlessly in pressing drive of will to live and love working it out baby gots to keep working it out. fussing cacophony and savored pillow talk and inspirations flavors the flow of you and I, 22 years into the groove […]

Fatherhood

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Greg Powell reflects on Fatherhood on Father's Day 2019

beneath clouds like gray floating sky foam, my seed the tree stretches and argues in tantrum against strangely chill summer breeze. it is a different feel from our little vegetable garden in back planted in raised wood box fortress against ravaging squirrels. leafy herbs and greens sprout and yield salad for season and then buried in ice and snow. the […]

Momma’s Redemption Song

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Greg Powell reprises one of his most cherished encouragements

Son, raise up your head Child raise up our head Though this old world Full of killing and dread Remember child what Jesus said Don’t gain the world and lose your soul Pray and press so hope takes hold Son raise up Your head Son don’t let nothing turn you around Child don’t let nobody turn you around Though wicked […]

Daddy Sings of Mother

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For Deborah on Mother's Day by Greg Powell

I walked the overnight crying baby shifts Changed diapers wipes baby shit and vomit Off ruined shirts never to be worn again Carried the babies, little heads bouncing off chest In journeys through city adventures Stuck bottles of pumped breast milk in puckering lips So often that Jon at thirteen says mom I mean dad And even the college boy […]

Mother’s Day in Summer’s Snow

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Mother's Day poem by Greg Powell dedicated to Joetta Powell

Mother’s Day in Summer’s Snow As those last memories Of those emaciated words Your life’s summation sowed As umbilical legacy into mine Your first born: I’ll be alright After a while. And you knew this By faith and not by sight That like dandelion sprinkling Seed as white as the cotton You picked as a little girl Sickly in the […]

Jon’s Song

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Greg Powell talks to about his son, Jonathan

Jon’s Song I’ve stared death in the face before; Yeah, I ain’t afraid to die, but when I get lowered in the ground, will you care enough to cry; Yeah, that’s a long time from now, but just cherish that I’m alive; when my parents are gone on, I’ll have tears all in my eyes. Old memories of my PaPa […]

The Christmas Tree

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The Christmas Tree by Greg Powell

The Christmas Tree Somehow the synthetic tree with built in lights, lives; refreshed in love oasis, rooted in our blood. And underground tears and precious memories of those gone but still present, breathing, living in our emotions rich and seasoned and eclectic like sister Niece’s magic gumbo she concocts to celebrate the Birth. We still celebrate the Birth. Even though […]