The Daily Art Source

 See Poets and Writers page for Biography

 Donna Fleischer

Para-ph(r)ase

by Donna Fleischer ©

As steadfast as
Thou art,

Will I
Bright Star?

Money? How much
The Night?


on a wobble board

by Donna Fleischer ©

once in rock
an ice cube
in ginger ale

moss jar
convolute
puke fear

ocean mouth
en-gulf-ing
en-gulf-ing

imagine what
you are doing
here

with your head
in your hands

here with your feet
sort of on
a wobble board


Seeing In Seeing Out *

by Donna Fleischer ©

would he see the broken letter i  
above his head? the one in the yellow neon sign
that spells out    D  e  l  broken i       D e l i    
followed by the word    S a l a d

≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠≠

and there the lettering either ends or  
continues beyond the suggestion of a cornice,
beyond the drawing itself which in reality
is nothing

let’s suspend disbelief let’s say
he stares straight ahead at a thing greater than

the artist, sir,  sees you  “contemplating the city life”
a something always up ahead, the next, and next

you look upon a city street crammed with
yellow school buses and cabs, plate glass windows
their myriad suns, reflections and glare

we can’t see what you see, we don’t look the way you look
we imagine a future through the artist’s focal point, color,
figure-ground relations, scale, tonal values, material

it’s all composed so brilliantly I must remind myself that     
you are an illusion, drawn with color pastel sticks made of
congealed chalk flakes and pigment dusts abraded by paper    

yet,  here I am in your face    ready to project in to you
in the same way I need to see a broken lower case letter i and
that you look within some clouded crystal sky

you seem to be a working man   is that a  Greyhound Bus driver patch
on your top pocket and cap? your green & white plastic cup of soda
half empty and pushed to the side as you daydream? I bet you drive
New York City to LA, have learned all about the long haul


across the street a monumental black X braces a new building scaffold &
though I realize you just happen to be a black man, I still think of
murdered Brother Malcolm writing speaking wrenching all souls free   

you also don’t see my eyes readjust suddenly
on a woman with long brown hair holding a camera   
looking in      looking up  from the foreground   and you with
your whole being turned outward to that street    away from her      
she’s smiling    at something   someone    maybe it’s an inside joke like
she is actually the artist deftly drawing her self into the picture,    
does she know you? and before you’ve had a chance to answer

my eyes shift again, from the woman’s left to
a monolithic grey metal trash receptacle,
someone’s missed toss sits on top  

what will you make from your dream?   what scenes replay in your mind   
as you drive across America?

 
where is home, pilgrim?


* ekphrasis on the color pastel drawing “Contemplating the City Life”
  by  Deanna Troy Henry


NeuralNeural-

by Donna Fleischer ©

otomy

Love'sWill

desire

so,

don't have to
leave

when you


pale grass blue butterfly (Zizeeria maha)

by Donna Fleischer ©

we give you a name
regard your being
as the size of a shoe
to fit a human life

study your reproductive cycle
measure the effects of radiation
swoop down on you, pin you,

I'm done with fear of not doing
let us be  love

only it will be priceless
only that much we need know

nonetheless
man's nuclear curse
control rigormortis
sets in

this butterfly's almost violet
wings close about the nectar,
its malformed antennae
vibratory vision
jumps the breach

so very, very  t  i  r  e  d

 by Donna Fleischer ©


so very
very   
t   i   r   e   d
adrenalin gush kill will
kicks in
Olympian movie theater seats
pile up with their slumped lives,


thumping out their already vacant
spasms

while beyond a side door exit
the trusted white Hyundai waits
for the deed

to be done


pop po pop pop pop   bloods flood


lungs accordian


not one word

spoken in


summer night