Three poems by Mark Kessinger

Syighs

The wind howls at my window,
and for me to hear it from inside my house
with double-pane, nearly
bulletproof windows
is remarkable,
and drives me outside
to test it.

As someone who has felt the wind
approach from
the far side of the mountain
to my side of the mountain,

as someone who has experienced
the approach
of a distant wall of wind,
pushed as a wave, driven by
an approaching cloud burst,
rustling through miles of canopy,
I appreciate it.

I welcome its shove
in my lungs and bones
a force that deserves respect,
that begs immersion,
deserves the full feel
as it ebbs and peaks.

I know it as something rare,
strong enough to
make me doubt my own weight.

Yet inside my house, sleeping like a baby,
a stranger, a storm-tossed refugee
from the derecho
borrows our shell.

And as if angry that I step
back into my house,
turn my back safely
to the tempest,
the power fails.

 

Start with Something

Start with something you know.
The rim of the sink.
A door handle
to a known room.
The cellphone in your hand.

Assess the emergency.
You or not you.
Blood or no blood.
Real or not.

Is there motion?
Is there direction?
Is help nearby?
Is survival possible?

Do you want it?
Is this the time or place?
What is left undone?
How do you rally?

How do you not?
It’s all you’ve known,
all you’ve ever done.
Let your reflexes
be your angels.
Be, and be again,
as if it’s all you are.

 

Poet as Propagandist

Trust your heart on this one.
Say what it is you have to say.
When what you just want to say
is a rant,
feel for the poetry,
let the muse mitigate your outrage
or give it avalanche.

Write for your own benefit—
especially when it’s the benefit of all.
Swell with patriotism,
not with ends justifying means,
but with means congruent with goals.
Practice what you preach,
and you will be more certain
your reality will be reached.

Rhyme.
It sticks with the masses.
Be upsetting.
Just target the right asses.

In the end, write like your freedom,
and your life depend on it,
and write like we need you to,
should we not win at this.

We’ll have wished
we said more.

 

Mark Kessinger was born in Huntington WV, attended college at Cleveland State University, lived in Oklahoma City and now resides in Houston TX. He is a two year recipient of a creative writing scholarship from CSU, a founding member and president of the Houston Council of Writers, and former editor of Voices from Big Thicket. His poetry has appeared in many publications and four anthologies. More information can be found at here.