Night at the Museum Caravaggio Did it first, making his paintings Out of verses from the bible In another, a nymph The arms and legs splayed as if possessed by a lustful god The sumptuous reclining nudes Always hopeful for something new The heads and shoulders of gods Cheer the crushing of a serpent This is what poems do They call out everything By a name Storyteller My hand, the old style Adept at poetry How the palm and mouth Rock back and forth Talent has a look And conducts herself accordingly The face it takes a minute to know, is yours it heaves me out of a straight line a story I was maybe narrating A Winter’s tale Beyond the thick curtains The snowflakes are Starting to fall Each one determined To bury something I pay a visit To an iron typewriter That has not lifted A key in years Perhaps there is A word in the dictionary To describe this day
Ramesh Dohan hails from Toronto, Canada. His poetry often slips into quirky, tender, or profound observation on the everyday, reading and writing, and poetry itself. He was previously published in Boston Literary Magazine (2011), Bywords Journal (2012), Allegro Poetry Review (2015) & Bosphorous Review of Books (2021).
Flight of the dragonfly 