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Greg Braquet’s has appeared in such publications as The North
American Review, The Hiss Quarterly, The New Laurel Review,
Mannequin Envy Anthology, THEMA, Poems Niederngasse, The
2006 Rhysling Anthology, Red River Review, The Pedestal
Magazine, Pierian Springs, Tryst, Side Reality, The Adagio Verse
Quarterly, The Little Green Tricycle, The Junket, L'Intrigue,
Branches Quarterly, Stylus Poetry Journal, Subtle Tea, The
Exquisite Corpse, Slow Trains, , Zygote In My Coffee and The
Melic Review. He placed second in the 2006 Rock River Times
Poetry Contest and also placed third in the 2005 Eugene Walter
Writers Festival. He and was a recipient of the Delirium Journal's
2003 Choice Award.
Ride By
I was late and rushing to some
corporate madness, when I
spied my middle son on the
school’s playground,
alive and well
in the land of recess.
Sweet rose remembered,
burning for the long ago as
bursting petal from a tight bud,
when the dew was new and
exciting, and not just dampness.
I was with him…
For a second I was with him,
then gone.
So I sped along to wherever, because
of whatever, but I wished him well;
I kissed a silent prayer
and wished him well.
God speed on the jailbreak!
Hooray for the monkey bar king!
Down the slide head first and laughing!
Chase and be chased!
Run wild and scream and yell and sing!
Free, open, his young stem a rocket
to the sky, and I, a forlorn bloom
drooping and fading, could only watch
while being suckled by a ticking bee.
----------------------------------------------
birds in rain
there was a steady rain
nothing thunderous
the drops wanting only to wet
not pelt
the sky was puffing
soggy, low riding smoke
smearing borders making
eyes with oblivion and
above me in that lost world
seagulls floating
they lollygagged in
ever widening circles
winged meanderers
black silhouettes
anointing the misty lead
with much need chiaroscuro
so far from home they
made a strange progress
above an asphalt artery
clogged with saturated to and fro
peaceful, not at all what you
would think of birds
no rushing here and there
no twitching and chirping
no mission bound, migrating “v”
only silent glides
invoking my glance, where
it should be, upward
-------------------------------------
Old Maid Crib Death
A virgin’s clenched eyes
Never to open,
Who could ever imagine
A bud forever?
Like an infant’s demise,
Instant soft skull angel
Expedited directly
To god.
But here and now, nothing,
Save a nod to oblivion
Where memories should
Have danced bare
And made a life of it.
One rushed to death, one hushed
In a drawn out breath of years.
Both ravished by unmade journeys.
--------------------------------------------------
American Review, The Hiss Quarterly, The New Laurel Review,
Mannequin Envy Anthology, THEMA, Poems Niederngasse, The
2006 Rhysling Anthology, Red River Review, The Pedestal
Magazine, Pierian Springs, Tryst, Side Reality, The Adagio Verse
Quarterly, The Little Green Tricycle, The Junket, L'Intrigue,
Branches Quarterly, Stylus Poetry Journal, Subtle Tea, The
Exquisite Corpse, Slow Trains, , Zygote In My Coffee and The
Melic Review. He placed second in the 2006 Rock River Times
Poetry Contest and also placed third in the 2005 Eugene Walter
Writers Festival. He and was a recipient of the Delirium Journal's
2003 Choice Award.
Ride By
I was late and rushing to some
corporate madness, when I
spied my middle son on the
school’s playground,
alive and well
in the land of recess.
Sweet rose remembered,
burning for the long ago as
bursting petal from a tight bud,
when the dew was new and
exciting, and not just dampness.
I was with him…
For a second I was with him,
then gone.
So I sped along to wherever, because
of whatever, but I wished him well;
I kissed a silent prayer
and wished him well.
God speed on the jailbreak!
Hooray for the monkey bar king!
Down the slide head first and laughing!
Chase and be chased!
Run wild and scream and yell and sing!
Free, open, his young stem a rocket
to the sky, and I, a forlorn bloom
drooping and fading, could only watch
while being suckled by a ticking bee.
----------------------------------------------
birds in rain
there was a steady rain
nothing thunderous
the drops wanting only to wet
not pelt
the sky was puffing
soggy, low riding smoke
smearing borders making
eyes with oblivion and
above me in that lost world
seagulls floating
they lollygagged in
ever widening circles
winged meanderers
black silhouettes
anointing the misty lead
with much need chiaroscuro
so far from home they
made a strange progress
above an asphalt artery
clogged with saturated to and fro
peaceful, not at all what you
would think of birds
no rushing here and there
no twitching and chirping
no mission bound, migrating “v”
only silent glides
invoking my glance, where
it should be, upward
-------------------------------------
Old Maid Crib Death
A virgin’s clenched eyes
Never to open,
Who could ever imagine
A bud forever?
Like an infant’s demise,
Instant soft skull angel
Expedited directly
To god.
But here and now, nothing,
Save a nod to oblivion
Where memories should
Have danced bare
And made a life of it.
One rushed to death, one hushed
In a drawn out breath of years.
Both ravished by unmade journeys.
--------------------------------------------------
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