SAMANTHA TERRELL - POET / EIC, SHINE Poetry Series
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Feb 26~ JACK COOPER

2/26/2025

 
Poetry lovers, today I have another treat for you here at SHINE, with work by Oregon-based poet, Jack Cooper. Please enjoy two of his evocative free verse poems:  "Smoke" and "Outside of Time."  Thank you, Jack, for sharing your gift of words with SHINE online series!

Smoke

I woke up in primal suspension
alone with the rising and falling of my breath
as if before a great crying out
even outside
a still quiet moment
nothing on the go
nothing on the make
as if the world
were stuck at a crossroads
the forest on pause
in its bargain with the elements
smoke from the fires
capturing the light in folds
like bread dough before the yeast dies
in an explosion of significance

Outside of Time

If the Sun and Moon should ever doubt
they'd immediately go out – William Blake

I don’t doubt travel into deep space
will only happen outside of time
like in a dream or an illusion
it won’t be real as we think of it
but metaconscious
a sense of other presences
Time ties us to age and decay
to linearity
to distinctions between
then and now and when
It keeps us Earthbound
rational and full of doubt
am I good enough
will I succeed
will we ever get there
I don’t doubt time is an illusion
like wishes like fears like art
you can do anything you can imagine with it
You can take time spend time and give time
find time waste time and do time
You can be on time
and get time off
The thing about an illusion
is that it becomes all too real
given enough time
I see her in my mind
as if it were today
Her smile could take you
to the ends of the Earth
just the way the moon can
Picture
Jack Cooper is the author of the poetry collection Across My Silence (World Audience, Inc., 2007). His poetry has appeared in bosque, ABQ Inprint, Rattle and many other journals. Cooper was the Grand Prize Winner in Crosswinds Poetry Journal’s 2016 poetry contest, and his work has been nominated four times for a Pushcart Prize. His poem, "Elm in Dirt with Bird," has been anthologized in Earth Song, published by T. S. Poetry Press, NY, 2022. In 2023, Eco-Justice Press published his first children’s book, Silly Lily’s Rhyming Adventures in Nature, with artist Greta Gonzalez.


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    SHINE - International Poetry Series

    Picture
    From the international poetry community, we have a "luxury of stars," as Sylvia Plath might say, and it is my honor to provide a home for their words through SHINE Poetry Series.
    Picture
    NOW IN PRINT!

    Stars Over the Dordogne
    BY SYLVIA PLATH
    Stars are dropping thick as stones into the twiggy
    Picket of trees whose silhouette is darker
    Than the dark of the sky because it is quite starless.
    The woods are a well. The stars drop silently.
    They seem large, yet they drop, and no gap is visible.
    Nor do they send up fires where they fall
    Or any signal of distress or anxiousness.
    They are eaten immediately by the pines.

    Where I am at home, only the sparsest stars
    Arrive at twilight, and then after some effort.
    And they are wan, dulled by much travelling.
    The smaller and more timid never arrive at all
    But stay, sitting far out, in their own dust.
    They are orphans. I cannot see them. They are lost.
    But tonight they have discovered this river with no trouble,
    They are scrubbed and self-assured as the great planets.

    The Big Dipper is my only familiar.
    I miss Orion and Cassiopeia's Chair. Maybe they are
    Hanging shyly under the studded horizon
    Like a child's too-simple mathematical problem.
    Infinite number seems to be the issue up there.
    Or else they are present, and their disguise so bright
    I am overlooking them by looking too hard.
    Perhaps it is the season that is not right.

    And what if the sky here is no different,
    And it is my eyes that have been sharpening themselves?
    Such a luxury of stars would embarrass me.
    The few I am used to are plain and durable;
    I think they would not wish for this dressy backcloth
    Or much company, or the mildness of the south.
    They are too puritan and solitary for that--
    When one of them falls it leaves a space,

    A sense of absence in its old shining place.
    And where I lie now, back to my own dark star,
    I see those constellations in my head,
    Unwarmed by the sweet air of this peach orchard.
    There is too much ease here; these stars treat me too well.
    On this hill, with its view of lit castles, each swung bell
    Is accounting for its cow. I shut my eyes
    And drink the small night chill like news of home.

    ~~~

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  • ABOUT
  • BOOKS
  • PUBLICATIONS
  • SHINE Poetry Series
    • SUBMISSIONS
  • PROFESSIONAL AFFILIATIONS
    • CONNECT
  • POETIC TRINITAS