Poems by John Pappas
“Hopper”
By John Pappas
oblong figure in the dirt and mulch
dead white carcass
still to the touch
frozen in a pose
rigid like a rock
and a small white shoot
a root pushing through
beneath the dead hopper below
buds bloom and thrive nurture on sliver stem
as blossoms appear on the grow
from above to the ground
pouring water on green
aromatic cannabis
pray you succeed
substitute seed
with the sweet
lovely fragrance of flower
now what? now here?
hiding green hopper?
leaping from cannabis lean
divine praying mantis intent to stay silent
resigned to keep still while unseen
rejects to hop off
far and away
refuses escape or to run
allowing me odds to snatch it up in my hand
to toss toward the low sagging sun
a grieving soul mourning
a final adieu
to an ancient extension
of kin
paying last due respect
for a dead white old hopper
with nothing remaining
to lose or to win
I walk the green hopper to the wall
of the garden
walk easy to the gate and talk slow
saying sorry you know for the loss in your family
conveying concern as we go…
listen green little one I had no part in this tragedy
please don’t take
your grief out on me
one life sacrificed for another to live
is precisely how we’re meant
to be
for what simply is true how hoppers like you always plot to eat leaves off my
crop
with how I now see it while I watch you munch I’d much rather watch you just hop
I implore and I urge you o green one I’m vegan and should this type of visit persist
I might miss the toss and splat you on that garden wall but should you choose
not
take heed to my warning or my word you decide to ignore
I truly assure you will not be forsaken
I’ve taken this action with purpose and passion each time it was needed
before
“Elaea
Europaea”
By John Pappas
the jackass brutally
beaten
the dog hanging by a
rope
in your venerable city
in modern times
looking back at your ancestry
to your archaic breed
pledging to your name, “I am
master.”
the zenith the acme of superiority
as you break the neck of the mountain goat
you break the bark
off a giant olive tree
studying its lesions
comparing the suffering
of the Elaea Europaea
with the wounds of the donkey
and with your own scars
from battles you’ve lost
wars you’ve won
your reverence and adoration in your own courage
having faith of your invincibility
above all passion
you are far off and away
you are powerless
your wounds will heal as long as it takes the olive tree to mend
you may have warned the farmer
you would bury him alive
if he laid another hand
on his donkey
but when you departed
that jackass got the beating of its life
you would’ve been
better off to bury that farmer
in that moment as you spoke his name
κύριος Θωμάς
(‘Kieros, Thomas.’ Mr. Tom.)
in order to guarantee with certainty the jackass to have been spared.
- John Pappas is originally from Oakland, CA. He is a poet, writer, director,
award winning actor, abstract painter and animal
advocate. Pappas currently lives in Long Beach, California with his wife Caren
and their pups.