Rainbow (draft 1)

Rainbow (Draft 1)

What will I do that’s better than the sun,
something in a rosy mood of you who
loves the ephemeral but

I don’t feel like your favorite sunrise
because I am the blue of the rainbow
and can not be as radiant as all the colors

But I think you like my one
particular color, because
I feel like
I belong to sunshine

— Douglas Gilbert

Imaginary Songs (Draft 2)

Imaginary Songs (Draft 2)

I don’t know why the frog imagines it can sing like a bird —
too ambitious, and I don’t know why

the bird imagines it can catch flies
as well as a long-tongued frog

It seems like they’d
rather speak if they could
than eat worms and flies
because one endures a swampy storm in the sky
with flying tornado hamburgers, and

the other awaits a flying chocolate-ant optimism
about flying lily pad carpets

— Douglas Gilbert

Waiting in the Pool (Draft 3)

Waiting In The Pool

Sparkling water sounded off to me
like a word from her gentle soft voice, but it
was merely the stroke in water
that propelled the glistening, and
I heard the crystal sparkle sound
that’s a stoke of silence when
too early is the splash of multi-irrelevance

but the flow of my body felt gentle,
a splash in an empty early pool

and I imagined that sunrises bring surprises
like hearing her ask the sun to yawn.

Sparkling water sounded off to me again
like a word from her voice
this time louder, an emergent hi, and

when she swam right under me
to look up from under my water,
I was so hard and embarrassed that

I could not leave the pool,
until the size of my bathing suit
had shrunken, just in case,
there’d be other early risers

Perhaps, it would have been better if
she had attacked me like a shark,
just for the sake of bystanders,
because if they’d scream and leave

I wouldn’t need to stand in shallow water
waiting while she smiled at edge of pool,
I, waiting for enough modesty to leave the water
not thinking of things to do and we could just be
right there at a moment where
the sun and many things would rise.

— Douglas Gilbert

Waiting In The Pool (Draft 2)

Waiting In The Pool (Draft 2)

Sparkling water sounded off to me as I swam,
a sound better than Champagne because it was my
stroke in the water that propelled the glistening, and
I heard the crystal sparkle sound as I cut through the water

It was the early empty pool
the flow of my body felt gentle,

sunrise could bring surprises,
because you had been sleeping
just as the sun was about to yawn

and when you swam under me
and looked up from under water,
I was so hard and embarrassed that

I could not leave the pool,
until the size of my bathing suit
had shrunken, just in case
there would be other early risers

Perhaps, it would have been better if
you had attacked me like a shark,
just for the sake of the bystanders,
because after they screamed and left

I wouldn’t need to stand in shallow water
waiting while you smiled at the edge of the pool
I, waiting for enough modesty to leave the water
not thinking of things to do and we could just be
right there at a moment where
the sun and many things can rise.

— Douglas Gilbert

Waiting In the Pool (Draft 1)

Waiting in the Pool (Draft 1)

Sparkling water sounds off to me as I swim
better than Champagne because it is my
stroke in the water that propels and glistens

but when you swam under me
and looked up from under water,
I was so hard and embarrassed that

I could not leave the pool
until the size of my bathing suit
had shrunken

It would have been better if
you had attacked me like a shark

And so I’m standing in shallow water waiting
and you are out of the pool smiling

— Douglas Gilbert

Ut Oh this might be a duplicate (Imaginary Songs [Draft 1]

Imaginary Songs (Draft 1)

I don’t know why the frog imagines it can sing like a bird —
too ambitious, and I don’t know why

the bird imagines it can catch flies
with its tongue, though can’t

It seems like they’d
rather speak if they could
than eat worms and flies
because one endures a swampy storm in the sky
with flying tornado hamburgers, and

the other a flying chocolate-ant optimism
about flying lily pad carpets

— Douglas Gilbert