Poetry: Selections from Tohm Bakelas

dead mantis

like the first baby i held, 

like the last late hand i touched, 

my left palm cradles the 

body of a brown mantis,

its limbs move in wind,

visible vestiges of extinguished life,

but it’s no good, 

the summer sun laughs and laughs,

and this moment is just a moment,

i tip my hand at death 

and it all falls away. 

5/27/21

frozen beneath mounds of snow

autumn lust sleeps in hibernation

 

and when spring 

thaws out 

the broken 

bones of 

youth 

 

everything rots in the sun 

sunflower ash

for Mark Anthony Pearce

much like my mother

your father died before his time,

both now ashes of yesterday

 

the books we read took

us away from loneliness,

far away from the sun

 

the slow drip of the faucet

leans heavy on the mind

 

sunflowers wilt into songs

can you hear the melody?

Tohm Bakelas is a social worker in a psychiatric hospital. He was born in New Jersey, resides there, and will die there. His poems have appeared in numerous journals, zines, and online publications. He has published 12 chapbooks and runs: Between Shadows Press.