Poetry by Richard Kovac

A Poem For My Favorite Waitress
Lovely like
a green leaf-
St Patrick's Day soon-
trysted in spring,
she invites summer
into my winter,
but she is so tall!
(Too tall for me to be
serious about her.).
I only promised her
this poem
(and a tip).
She still amuses me.
May the world be full
of such waitresses,
and we will be full.
I watched Eryn grow
into a young woman.

Homage To Maria Montessori
There are so many
youthful prodigies
who are brilliant
as early adults,
insipid at their prime,
and decrepit in decline
that one imagines
stupidity to be
in the very air we
Everyone is
a genius.
We are made stupid
by others.

Dave's Auto Body Shop
The city bus is plastered
with garish advertising
all over the place
including the slanted windows.
This attempt to save money
makes mock of our streets,
and riding the bus might
seem to imply endorsing
the products, in addition
to paying a green dollar.

A Time To Plant
When is the end of the beginning?
When does the root become a stem?

The leaf is the mid-section,
but where does the beginning cease?
Maybe when we have, at last, peace.
I think the end of the beginning
is when this seed does germinate.

She will walk calmly in all her beauty
upon the earth.

Homage to Heraclitus
"We grow old, we grow old."
Time passes and gray is.
It's not the same river;
He is not the same man,
Who steps into it.
(In a sense he is).
All is flux.
He isn't emotional
About his incipient Alzheimer's,
And comes to the rally.
He strives to keep his course,
But the changes become visible.

We are all in flux.
Would that it were re-birth!
Everything is war.
Existence is struggle.
His memory is failing.
He repeats himself;
Like the channel
of the passing river,
Whilst the river itself
Is over. This fall.

Bitter Draft
I bared my concoction
and let her drain it
to the heartfe1t dregs.
"I don't understand it,"
saith mine wife, when
I showed her the poem.
But if she doesn't get it,
who will?
And then
I knew:
No one.
But some will say,
"It's great," while
others hesitate to denigrate.
My secret wish is attained.
I am both enigmatic
and vain.
my place in modern poetry
is gained.

Tears And Laughter
Pithy sayings
go away
into the woods
of dark and rain
that make up
most words
in this
earth plain.
When someone makes
me laugh,
I shout

Wisdom Fragment
Be as wise
as owls
and as gentle
as pigeons.

Return to Port Of Call Home Page
Return to April/May 2012 Table of Contents