Dah Helmer



The Waiting Room

To be the narrow light of distant stars
a weak presence barely seen in crowded streets
the one that types words without paper
the one with nothing to say

What’s called dry trough is my silence
flat and dull
Keeping life simple I walk alone
People pass like leaves

A distant star is an empty waiting room,
with me, sitting here, like a statue birds land on
only to push away suddenly, swiftly



Teething

I wake up, touching myself, pretending
I’m coming in your mouth
You apologize for letting some spillover

Winter is not done. It’s a war of ice
hard as I am in your mouth
only, this ice melted and spilled over
The sounds from your throat
like pools of water pushing
through a downspout

It will be spring sooner than we know
We’ll start eating like rabbits
teething on each other, like cats clawing carpets
O joy of body-bruises, wriggling, stretching,
soaring like sunrise



Dah Helmer’s fourth poetry collection is The Translator (Transcendent Zero Press). His poetry has been published by editors from the U.S., U.K., Ireland, Canada, China, Philippines, Spain, Australia, Africa and India. Harbinger Asylum Magazine has nominated Dah’s poem “Some god” for the 2017 Pushcart Prize. He is the chief editor of ‘The Lounge’, an online poetry critique group.
 
 
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