Don Schaeffer

Canadian Poet

Enthalpy Press

Publisher of Poetry

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The Latest

Published 2006

By Owl Oak Press

(61 pages of poetry)

$15

(ISBN 0-9770380-6-8)

Sample Poems from “Almost Full.”

Letter to Tom P.
-----------------------

I had no idea
where the path through you
would go when I first met you,
all blond on blond
with wispy bits of unruly gold
all around you.

I thought bright haired people
always avoid the cold.
In spite of the rags and bits of paper,
you looked redeemed.

When you told me about the dark,
the fever, the rage, the land of nothing,
and you sung your angry, pent-up songs,
I declared how strong you are
to avoid madness or live at the edge
of madness without slipping over.

You are bound in safety
because of the asbestos qualities of art.

Social
---------

The fully fattened spider
dies with compliance
following the ancient spider code
hung paralyzed amid her teeming babes
the very protein of her body
giving lessons to the cannibal future.

The salmon eagerly punches
toward death. That is his wedding day
with all the pumped up fishy fantasies
stored in his milky brain. He perishes
stuporous in one and final lastitude.

As for me,
goodbye will
turn my eyes to you as the future shrinks.
I will be nothing and you will be all.

Available from Enthalpy Press:

Price $10.00

My mother is my spaceship

Doorway. Around her, like a

Misty skirt, snake the routes to the

Mazes of the underground and

Pathways to the planets.

Inverse of Love

The mother

savors the incompleteness

of the child

and they

dance.

The smaller body circles

the larger erratically,

rebelling out of perfect orbit,

yet drawn, gravely

back into spirals

about the center.

It is bumpily predictable,

a biological translation of Newton.

Distance is the inverse of love,

and proportional to freedom.

Enthalpy Press

Presents

“In Overripe September”

51 poems by Don Schaeffer

Letter to Dawn

Dear Sunshine,

The bright dawn cloud

Dome, uplit, was the

Ceiling. When the sun was

Suddenly at the

Edge of the vault of the

Present, I

Thought of you. I love your

Toying with shyness. I

Love your little songs. The Earth

Pulls its colour away from

Dreams when you

Rise.

Suddenly it was

There, the sun, at the

Edge of the

Disk of the

Present. The bright

Dome of clouds was

Lit from below. I

Love your

Toying with loneliness, I love your

Pretending to be

Coy. I love your

Pretty little songs

Itch2

When I want I

Rip at the

Fabric of space that

Separates the

Living from the dead. When I

Want I rush the water of

Tears into hidden

Capillaries, rivulets through the

Corpses of the

Stars. When I

Want I make the great

Sighs. With wooshing vital

Breath I

Create the future.

Wanting is what

Rips at the

Fabric of space, binding the

Living with the dead.

Wanting

Rushes the waters of

Tears into hidden

Capillaries, rivulets through the

Corpses of the stars. Wanting is what

Makes the great sighs,

Wooshing vital

Breath, pushing aside the

Old and wanting is what

Creates the future.

	Time Meat (early 1999) ISBN 0-9687012-0-5 Crumbs from the Table of Love (late 1999) ISBN 0-9687012-1-3 The Word Cow and the Pigolove (2000) ISBN 0-9687012-2-1 Erroneous Views (2002) ISBN 0-9687012-4-8
Love by Telephone (from “Time Meat”) Conspiracy is at the heart of Love that forms in the warm pockets of Secrets. And those who seek Love look for conspirators. Conspire With me my love. Hide with me within the Dark folds of secrets. Are you out there, you secret voice Or are you only my Wished for love? Is your Voice my own mind? Do we Conspire or is this a Solitary crime?		The Departure of My Mother (from “Crumbs from the Table of Love”) My mother is my spaceship Doorway. Around her, like a Misty skirt, snake the routes to the Mazes of the underground and Pathways to the planets. Now, within a Dark cocoon she gently Slips to where she's Never been. What Human thoughts still cling to her Frothing mind? Maybe time Changes and bright life spots are Smeared into occasions of taste or Texture. When things Disappear or mix into Mud, maybe The music of patterns prevails. Life shrinks in the same way infant life Grows, retreating to a Kernel of mouth or nose or Eye strewn over time. Life Returns to music, the profoundest Part of dance. Life finally Belongs to art.
Me and Love (from “The Word Cow and the Pigolove”) Even as I Haul the Baggage of my Life I am Soaked in love, Saturated in Love and all the Failure and aborted Success floats with Me in love's scintillescent Jelly. The final Burial place of stultified Endings, falls back with me, Falls helplessly Back into the Folds of love. Love Waits, arms Folded, protective, I Rely on love and my Alliance with love Thrills me, fuels Me, tickles my ribs.

Something About Me

Persistent, dogged, I am a

Chastened habitué of dreams

Jealous of the

Permanence of God, I am

Like a restless ghost, with an

Uncompleted life like a

Zombie, I peer

Out from my

Fantasy my

Falsehood. The passing

Gritty structure of

Chance is all that

Occupies my eye.

Sometimes on a

Sunday we go to the

Casino to play the

Nickel slots. There is something

Comforting about watching the

Nonsense stream randomly

Spin after spin. It's

Flat like life. In the

Time we have we can get

Comfortable with luck. Chance is

Cold but natural. And in my

Life there is no more

Courtship I am

Floating on luck.

The Flirtation (1999)

The kindness, the funny

Remarks are all

Pathways, paths to Escape, paths to

Memory,

Paths that lead away, Around the

Gray corner with the

Future hiding behind it.

Fleeting, non-committal

Touches reach

Into the body-

Model of delicious

Fiction, enhanced by

Wanting and all but Forgotten hope.

Floats (2000)

"And we will

Have a golden

Moment together," she

Asked. Flattered but

Uncommitted he

Answered, "Someday." And that

Just floated in time

Suspended in the

River that flows

Between not now and

It's too late. They

Float on time these

Flotsam of

Conversation these

Jokes these

Fantasies.

Whatever Turns

Speech to Song (2001)

Whatever turns speech to

Song, whatever generates

Hope, odd things

Keep life. It could be a

Joke that goes beyond

Laughing, a joke with meat

Extensions to unique

Dreams and secret

Memory. It could be a

Vague and futile

Promise that sits

Scintillating in a

Wish when the wish

Preserves the skeleton of

Hope (maybe

Just the skull and ribs of

Hope). It could be

The daring to

Toy with dreams,

Tempt with dreams, let

Dreams flicker on the

Impossible side of the

Border between true and

False.

Links

Spondee.Net: An exceptionally well managed poetry collection with many poets represented.

Passions in Poetry: a poetry collection.

Salty Dreams Forum: give and take poetry exchange

This So Called Life: Forum for Poetry and Photography

Thanks for coming.

Meet My Family

Ordering

Links

Guest Book

Real Video of “Doughnuts”. Download by RIGHT-CLICKING and saving to a file.

Available from Enthalpy Press:

Letter to Dawn

Itch2

Something About Me

The Flirtation (1999)

Floats (2000)

Links