Local poets share their work for the arts council’s Love Project – Ladysmith Chronicle

As part of the Arts Council of Ladysmith and District’s Love Project, the Waterfront Gallery asked writers and students to share poetry, which is now on display downtown in the Royal LePage window until February 15. The arts council asked if the Chronicle would print some of the work. I happen to be a big fan of poetry and loved the idea. Inspired by the project, I decided to include one of my own poems on the page.
-Tyler Hay, Ladysmith Chronicle Editor
Ladysmith: Gratitude 2
I run to the marina to be hypnotized
by the jellyfish, and forget
I can always come home
in an empty house.
There is Syria and violence,
hunger and political scandal,
and I do nothing about it,
captivated by my little sorrows.
Eighteen visceral months
since the declared love of a man,
and me with my pathetic need
hold another warm hand,
to whisper through a pillow.
I have no business, no potential.
Empty fridge but for dead apples
offered by friends.
And who could understand this planet
of no small desire,
or the joy found in valentines
pretending to be maple leaves.
Easy to blind facts of profound importance:
even the jagged moments are beautiful.
-Shelley A. Leedahl, from her upcoming collection, Go, (Radiant Press, Spring 2022)
what is good
Wednesday afternoon hikes with Rachel,
who lives, like me, in fear
of the smallest wonders: blades of grass
which end in star flowers.
Pine scents. The crows, and the birds that we guess
through the memory of the song.
The multicolored brambles. Picking season.
Aperitif before the full blush of blackberries.
Arbutus, peeling one page at a time.
They say red. They say west coast. They understand
that if I could paint, my life
would be quite different.
It’s good to sit on a ledge above the city
which is above the ocean. We point to the islands
and hear nothing but tree bones.
Silver lichen is good. And the Rainbow Tinder Mushroom.
Also salamanders, reminiscent of Slippery. Rain event.
-Shelley A. Leedahl, from her upcoming collection, Go, (Radiant Press, Spring 2022)
Spring
(for Ruth)
Spring, hot, not hot,
Wet, not humid night.
Evil
From a grassy, covered hill.
Clothed only in moonlight;
Her long, long shiny hair
On his shoulders like a poem.
Everything that is
Beauty
Wrapped up carefully in an embrace.
Floating softly on this dream,
I smile.
-Jim Bearden
patio umbrella
That first day of warm spring,
I opened the umbrella,
and a bat flew away:
the most shocking thing i’ve seen
until I read your letter.
-Anita Kess
Your poet’s complaint
If you don’t like this poem
Think the fault is yours not mine
Your beauty was too much of a burden
A poet’s ability to reflect online
What if I instead chose your image to make
The end would be the same
Since to measure your grace and your light
Can neither brush nor pen
So if my syllables limp on the page
Or my brush on your face betrays a flaw
It’s because out of vain desire
I have sweet defeat the taste
Since I wanted you to be today
My Aphrodite both in print and in painting
-John Edwards
Rainy Days Sonnet
A rainy day reminds us why we love;
company comes easily on summer eves;
but when the buckets spill we gotta rise above
endless days as our time falls with the leaves.
Therefore the sun be her sweet eyes
when the water runs like tears on the windows
the sun, like a lost poet lies;
she is my warmth with everything in chains.
The world has slowed down today to a bleak stall,
but she and I were lying too and we didn’t care
if we never move; keep us within these walls
lose days and be a happy couple.
Rainy days remind us why we should love
in the dark hours that you don’t care to talk about.
-Tyler Hay
A song
A song is like a place in time,
A moment taken, stirrings in the mind.
A past life, what things had meant.
Flights of fancy, soaring on
A melody is sent to them; ending with a rhyme.
-Jim L. Bearden