2020: 3 poems by rick kearns.

 

plum tree family

the ancient plum tree
dies on a regular basis

new shoots spring from
an eternal root system

new branches grow beside
and around the old ones

now covered with bumps
dark dry but standing still

as the young ones climb
over and around them

with their white blossoms
and promise of sweet blue

plums that feed five generations
of my family that dies, too

but still grows outside
a grand old home, paid for by

the loving but taciturn father
of his beloved daughter who

was my Grandma Kearns, niece
of Sara Estella Dannley, who

gifted the plum tree to our family
100 years ago and now

her grand nephew, my Dad
is 90 and he considers the

gnarly old tree
part of the family, our legacy.

*

Facebook ghosts

joseph took his life

still has a page
on facebook, death has
not removed his profile

the fact that he
hung himself
at night
in a barn

has no bearing
on his social media
presence.

are there ghosts
on facebook?
do the dead
still post?

I don't know
I don't know how
to deal with
these cyber ghosts

I played a siguiriya
for an old friend
who is long gone
but his page lives on

I recorded it
onto Messenger
a PM to a dead friend
who use to play

an agonzingly
beautiful siguiriya
one of the old flamenco
songs that rose

out of the mountains
with the help of
duende, and sherry
and pain.


Do the ghosts
On Facebook
Haunt the cloud?

Do they fly
Through the air
On e currents?

I’d like to think
My dead friends
Check their pages

But I’m not holding my breath.

*

the guitar has something to say

the guitar has something to say
the congas circulate blood and
the cajon is shivering with love

i address the guitar
give thanks string cousin
i sing with the congas
taking me with them
back to Mama Africa
I lay hands on the cajon
waiting for the duende
to rise and help me find
the names not spelled
correctly on the ships’ manifests
of the murderous hordes
that brought me here
to meet the me who was
already here but wondering
why the gods allowed this

the guitar has something to say
the congas circulate blood and
the cajon is shivering with love

 

 

Rick Kearns is a poet, freelance writer and musician of Boricua (Puerto Rican) and European heritage from Harrisburg, Pa.  He was named Poet Laureate of Harrisburg in January 2014. His poems have appeared in over 80 journals including The Massachusetts Review, The Painted Bride Quarterly, The Patterson Review, Yellow Medicine Review, Letras (lit review of the Center for Puerto Rican Studies, Hunter College, NY) and Chicago Review.  Kearns’ poems are also in two books, five national anthologies, two international anthologies and seven chapbooks. Several of his poems have been translated into Spanish and Portuguese.

He has given readings throughout the US since 1992, including at the Nuyorican Poet’s Café in Manhattan and Capicu in Brooklyn. His poetry is also featured in "The Moon Rides a Black Horse" CD, combining his poetry and jazz performed by the Con Alma Quartet (with whom he collaborated between 2010-2014).

More from Rick Kearns—

YouTube Channel
Hispanic Heritage Month Exhibition
Reading for Poetry 2 + 1, Clark Forum for Contemporary Issues, Dickinson College