Sample Poems by James Deitz

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Sonnet to Alicia

Fiery face shown through the mirror again.
The mortar shock has long since worn off, but
blood stains continue to invade in
my life, frequent feelings from my gut
tears from former fragments cutting through
my memories. Alicia, how do I stand
after Iraqi War? You still leave clues
using crying clouds creating falling sand
drowning me. I'm slowly losing my mind.
Seeing her within black computer screens,
shadows that move around and behind
sliding up my shoulders showing scenes
from another time, from another war.
You're still here, never killed from that mortar.

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Petal of My Petal

Flowering Dogwood swings in the wind;
stirring, subtly beckoning the giant
sphinx moth. Pink petals glistening;
slowly the lover encircles the cherry
glow, fluttering in sway, hovering
closer and closer to the stigma.
The moth waits, suddenly hesitant,
finding no nectar, finding nothing.

An eerie radiance in the distance
attracts the sphinx. The moth enclose
s and opens its wings, rapidly beating,
faster, faster, wooing the ghost orchid.
The moth hovers near glossy white petals,
and caresses softness, moving to the base
, tasting the nectar sweet like liquid
light. Its proboscis reaches further ou
t and lowers down into the deep carpel.

The style convulses then becomes
still. The sphinx flies away, only
a few feet, suddenly landing
on an Arabian Night leaf,
light gray and green wings highlight
dark purple hues. The moth
watches the orchid and waits
for death as the surrounding
magenta petals fade into stigma.

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Searching After Balad

While buying groceries at HEB.
Sometimes I stand and stare too
long at all the chocolate, so many
choices, the Reese's Pieces,
peanut butter package stained
with blood, shaking hand reaching.

This continuous climb into
Everest explosions after
that mortar landed, each
IED that implodes another
memory. Each mortar fragment
that cuts into Alicia. Sharpened
shrapnel slices flesh. Jagged
pieces of her, fragments of me
breaking a decade later. Another
memory slips on loose rocks, falls
further into desert sand below,
unravels and disappears. I hike
higher, reaching closer to the Reese's,
but dig deeper into my own sand grave.

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Alicia's Reese's Peanut Butter Cups

Ember flashes from fireworks
doesn't trigger quite like the orange
and yellow gleam of the Reese's
package. The chocolaty cups
jagged edges detonate.
Memories that cut like shrapnel.
Just looking at them while walking
through Walmart, too many mines in
my mind field, synapses
torn like teeth grinding
on barbed wire.
If a tooth falls out, that's fine.
If I trip, meet the fire, also
fine. I just hope I never see anyone
eat those butter cups in front
of me as she did. One cup
at a time, giggling, desert
eyes turning orange,
hollowing out in Iraqi heat.