Hope is a Bird

Hope is the bird
that won't stop flapping and flying,
Although I despair,
and don't want to look up,
It keeps soaring towards me,
Bidding me to look at its ethereal beauty,
And listen to the song of its fluttering wings.

Espresso

I spent the morning with a poet
who was as moody as the changing weather,
Just like a sudden summer storm,
Just like snow in Jerusalem.
His words, at times, were as bitter as the espresso he
drank, although he sipped it as though it were the
finest of wine to be savoured and savoured,
Yet no matter how much he relished each mouthful,
he could never get enough,
and drank until he was jittery, and
even his voice shook.
His fingers were never steady;
He held out his trembling hands , and said to me,
"Good poetry should be like this -
enjoyed over and over again,
and too much is never enough."
He sipped at another cup of espresso,
which I declined,
But I drank in every drop of his poetry.

The Non-Poem

This is not a poem.

I repeat folks, this is not a poem.
Nothing to see here, move on by.
If this were radio, we'd be experiencing
Dead air.
I have nothing to preserve now
In a moment of time.
No slice of life to offer in a frozen,
Orange-scented wedge,
Not one lyrical word ,
Nor flight of fancy,
No in-depth musings with intrinsic insight to offer,
No bouncing ballads, soaring stanzas,
Playful quatrains, or heart-stopping voltas.

No, with a sigh, I tell you,
This most certainly is not a poem.

Apothecary Art

We practice
The ancient art of
The apothecaries:
Secret mingling
Of hidden perfumes
To create a scent
The world has never known.

^

Biography

Aurora Antonovic is a Canadian freelance writer, visual artist, and former co-editor and columnist for the GT TImes. Her poetry has recently appeared in Reflections Journal, Poet's Pen, Thunder Sandwich, Megaera, Makarta, and Poetic Voices, the latter of which she appeared as the featured poet for the month of May 2003.