Select Poems Antonio J. Hopson

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That Burning Bush I Saw

In an orange-spangled fire burning there,
between two highways two seasons

Thoughts on Whiskey and Love

Knock hard
or ring the bell twice. Knock hard
slink into my home. You are invited in. Undress. Chin...chin.

Invited Guest

You are right.
keeping your hands off things that do not belong to you
is a virtue.
And the moon is far away
by design.
You are not to touch it
unless invited.
You are invited.
Your ancestors whisper
because they are telling you a secret.
Not a lie.
You need a hand.
Not forgery.
The world is wanton.
Its images a wake
left in a star-crossed trail.
But you have a lens
to see,
a heart
to feel.
And I know you are an animal.
I can smell you.
Or wish to.
Your neck...
Your chin...
Your bosom...
My honey is there.
And inside of me,
where my mind dreams up these foolish possibilities. They do not come from an animal, do they?
Not a bear in the woods, nor a lioness in a cage, can dream of things and make them real...
like drunkards dancing in moonlight for no good reason...

to touch and see and feel the dream entering our bodies together
through gooseflesh
and tiny hairs that stand up on the skin without a clue. Still they stand.

For us.
To send us to the moon... invited guests.

Signal Mountain

The great escape
in broad daylight
into thine own self infinitely tangled...
straight into the face of god.

Alone
to see
to judge
the disasters of life.

A conversation
with feral poets
who see as far as the night

and further still

where their ideas are shouted

into the cannon
into destiny
into fire
into wounds
that heal into scars and are opened again.

Thus is the beginning found on a mountain with light
streaming from some unseen place.

What May Come, Will Come

Lie down here
and carelessly wait
for the sound
of marching happiness.

In a field
of wayward waiting, soaked in sugar, laughter,
and musk,

lie down here
and rest
with these
seraphic, blooming weeds.

Wait...
with me,
as cherubs do
and listen to the sound of thunder rolling in.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from Antonio J. Hopson. Writers are welcome to quote brief passages in their critical studies, as American copyright law dictates.

Edited by: Katie Doemland
Cover Image: “7 of Hearts” by Tony Meeuwissen

Published in 2015 by Anaphora Literary Press