Chlorine poem by Janet Kuypers

Chlorine

Janet Kuypers

from the “ Periodic Table of Poetry” series

My dad ran a construction company,
and after he built our house, he used concrete
from an extra job to build a swimming pool
in our back yard. My brother even got a diving
college scholarship, so I guess the pool
came in handy.

Every summer, after cleaning the pool,
filling it with water and adding the right amount
of Chlorine, my neighbor and best friend
would come ove and pay in the chemically clean
pool with me daily. We’d even play
“Bottom Bump”, where we’d hold our breaths
to save us from the Chlorine, and we’d hold hands
and start doing flips underwater together
until we’d end up injuring ourselves
and have to come up for air. Even as a toddler,
because I was just a child and I had this mortal fear
of falling backwards into the deep end,
my sister would have to re-teach me every year
how to back dive into the Chlorine pool.

But now that my dad lives in the retirement
community he started in Florida years ago,
I visit him when I have the time during
the cold Chicago winters, and sit by the pool
they built right across the street from his house.
The Chlorine in that pool actually smells good
when you want relief from the hundred degree heat,
even if the pool is almost eighty degrees itself.

But of course the Chlorine would smell good,
when Chlorine is even used in drinking water.

And it’s funny that we use Chlorine in pools
while Chlorine is mostly found a a Chloride ion
in salt, that it’s found in the earth as well as
in oceans, like the Dead Sea.

Chlorine ions are in the Dead Sea,
and Chlorinated pools can save us from the heat.

But too much Chlorine in the water
is a bad thing, and if you don’t know that
from sniffing the bottle of Chlorine
before it’s poured into a swimming pool,
then know that as a gas, this element
was even used as a weapon in World War Two.
The Germans even used these “Bertholite” bombs
(which smelled like pepper and pineapple, actually),
and Chlorine bombs were even used in the Iraq War
(though the physical force of the bomb
may have been more devastating than the gas).

Because yeah, Chlorine is bad for the
respiratory system, but that’s how we learned
that in the right amounts, Chlorine can kill
the bad-for-you bacteria and gross germs
living in your drinking water, and Chlorine can kill
what can grow into something much worse for you
while stewing in a stagnant swimming pool.

Dreaming Tiger Poem by Dandelion De La Rue

Dreaming Dream Tiger

The dreaming tiger
clung to me
his paws around my neck
his head, his silky head
upon my shoulder
eyes closed
cat smile,
weightless in his dreaming body
but warm, so warm.
I gently stroked his head.

He likes you
said the voice
the mystery voice
that comes to me sometimes
and I was glad.
I liked the tiger
too.

I rode the tiger
in my weightless dreaming body
and with him
nonchalantly strolled
as only cats can stroll
through magic forests
never looking down
or to the side
but only straight ahead.
We walk with
confidence
and strength.

Cat Poem by David Michael Jackson

POEM TO MINDY
and there she is
my cat
she demands that my hands
touch her fur and
she demands my
total
attention
she knows she’s the only cat
that matters
that ever mattered.
She knows the cats of Egypt
I sometimes think she was there herself and added that
unknown quality to
the reliefs in the temple walls, for
she is the only cat that ever mattered as she wimpers that
demanding little
raorw

***

History Poem by David Michael Jackson

HISTORIES ARE NOT MY STORIES

You read me histories I say
histories that don’t exist for me.

I say

I am all there is

there are no histories but my

history

there is no story but my

story

and when I die

all

is gone

When I die there will be no more

sunday matinee’s smell of the theater

when I die the roses will not bloom

and you can tell each

other then

of your histories and how the

world went on without

me

but you will never

convince

me

***

Get Off Your Ass Poem

Get off your ass
and tell these people
something,
anything you fool,
say the dust has collected
in the corners and
the leaves are lining the gutters
and the birds don’t care for your poetry

Say that your brain has
holes in it and cannot,
could not hold the water.

Say it, fool!
I know you want to.

Squeeze it out
of the dirty rag
and wipe
your brow with your angst
until
the birds sing again.

david michael jackson August 5, 2012