Feature Poet:
Marlene Y. Caller Vidibor


"Mo(u)rning Lace"

"I wonder as I wander..."
Autobiography of Langston Hughes

An image captured in a sideward glance
Intruded on the oblivion of her morning ritual
Weaving through canyons' swallowing walls
Which sprang up rapaciously into mammon's heavens

Steeped in thoughts of coffee conferences
Noontime decisions about exercise or errands
Traffic tatted her lacelike pattern
Threading through cars, crowds, construction sites

Checking the angle of her hat
In the darkness of a hungry store window
A glimmering palimpsest intruded on her image and
The lacy ten dollar fashions hanging on haunted mannequins

From that instant on she'd notice him daily
Sleeping alone
A fixture next to the standpipe
Where sidewalk and building's foundation meet

Granite fused
Frozen as winter's heart
Pressed into the facade
Of circumstance
To her he was just an abandonned body
Guarding an unused doorway
She'd once entered to purchase
False silks rimmed with cheap lace

Torn satin quilts gleaned from trash left to chance
As was his existence
Lined his cardboard home
Became his lace curtains

Later she remembered thinking that even
When he rose to beg for change in singsong babble
Dreadlocks shaking lips and limbs trembling
He seemed shackled

His toes protruding from objects
Once someone's shoes
Were locked to cracks in the pavement
Like fingers stick to icicles hanging on a forlorn porch

Now wondering as she wandered by that spot
How she had marvelled at his endurance
Until that day his dessicated body
Fragile as a leaf borne by the wind was gone
Leaving only a trace memory
Dim as a lace imprint on that torn newspaper
Where mourned by no one
His obituary would not appear


Madonna and Child

It is the usual
Subway pièta
Yet there is
Something
Different
Perhaps
Because
The child
Is so still

More than clinging
He clutches her breast
All but buries his head
Within her fullness
Her hands and chin
Grasp his two year old weight
Make small grooming motions

Forming a fortress
Her arms enclose him
Shining darkly bright
Two panther jewels
Inspect his slack-jawed mouth
His upturned searching eyes

 


 

MARLENE YVETTE CALLER VIDIBOR is a poet, artist, public sector manager who has been doing art in fiber, watercolor collage, for over 30 years. She has a background in music, math, philosophy and public administration and has taught at the undergraduate and graduate levels as volunteer mentor for Baruch College students in computer science and related fields. She has been writing poetry since 1992 fabricates handmade books with her own poetry and artwork. She is the cutator of the Phoenix Reading Series, a weekly reading in Manhattan. You can reach Marlene at mvidibor@home.com.


A New Era

We sit in a San Diego ballroom
Like George Segal sculptures
Each in a singular state of repose
Shivering assaulted by impossible promises
Made with crumbling strands of truth
That fall like plaster from the artist's casts
Visions sold by spin doctors of progress
Shibboleths empty mantras
Meant to calm restless beasts

"World class service for the working poor"
"Work smarter not harder" - "Do more with less"
"Automation will solve our problems"

I am by turn pained and numb
Reminded of the the spider that poisoned me
At last year's conference in Chicago
Here chrystal chandeliers hang like icicles
Casting elongated shadows glaring reflections
As distorted as those from fun house mirrors
Plush chairs
Velvet draperies



Amber Speaks

I used to trace the globe in flight
My wings shaped lakes islands
Cast shimmering shadows over
Sunlit flowered fields.
They call me Papillon
Bright fluttering banner
Calligraphy on translucent film
Absorbing color from light.
Gypsy-spirited Lepidoptera
I floated from thistle to black-eyed Susan
Sipping nectar with the bees
From many-colored troughs
My sonar guided me over land
Waves bouncing
From echoing caverns
Within mountain vaults
Deep inside an earthen urn
My trapped life
Lies buried by the glacier's art
My antennae ossified
I have become a jewel of evolution
Encased in glistening schist
As my sisters became
Pompeian lace cemented in lava.
Can you feel my ancient breath
As I long to escape my cold chrysallis?
Join the living
Brush pollen with my tongue again