Rooftop Poetry Club - Tom Poehnelt

Tom Poehnelt

Bio:
Tom, a Buffalo native, is currently in the English program at Buffalo State, after stints in the IT industry in Atlanta, GA, left him with nary a soul. His dream is to write and inspire and accrue his soul back. Although never published, he has written poetry for over 20 years, performed publicly a handful of times and has been commended on his poetry by people other than his mother.

Poems:

untitled

i long, i yearn
i stretch to transparency
the weight of my dreams billows
i do nothing but exhale
sweet warmth collects in the folds
my dream is a parachute
i float
in and out of imagination
collecting strands of aspiration
like cotton candy
like cotton candy my desire melts
but to taste the sweetness
the tang of my memory
lingers like perfume
the only way to stain you
with the significance of me

lovers

a breeze blows
warm, gentle caresses
across a pond

the pond
ripples with pleasure

untitled

what of desire?
my heart is restless
i try to please an unseen God
an exercise in futility
failing in my iniquity
falling into humility
but Love leafs through
these layers of despair
He touches my heart
to the point of implosion
He brings me to a place
awash in silver streaks
where i love
where i find peace
where my hope dwells

cat's in the cradle, or a response to li-young lee's "eating alone"

"the leaves sprout, thrive and tremble, then tumble.
should we then forgo the rake and ‘barrow?
will our load lighten if our backs have turned?
or will our foolishness incur blindness?
for the observant eye's responsible
to nurture that which inspires a passion
that drives our labor; employs our leisure."

walking this orchard, my heart beside me.
little legs propel curiosity
beyond me into the deep wood as i
ponder what will become of him, my son?
i pray his eyes will always be opened
to the amazement of the fantastic
and mundane; such as this wonderful pear.

"come, see what takes residence in this fruit
like a dear memory that won't let go.
the hornet could not resist the sweet urge,
like a Bedouin thirsts an oasis
or a lonely heart searches for solace."

evening beckons; hunger from honest work
sated with an honest meal, and comp'ny.
settle in, appreciate the day passed.
what more could we, our fam'ly, want?