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Quincy Troupe

The Last Stormy Breaths of Irene #3

whiplashing winds ride the backside of hurricane irene
howling her last blustery breath as she blew over
manhattan on the last cool sunday of august
2011, she moved through a gray sky tinged
orange red at warp-speed  - squalling blabbermouth -
her corkscrewing tail-end trailing havoc as she cruised north-
east toward connecticut, upstate new york, new hampshire, maine, blowing like a bomb into brattleboro, vermont,
raining so hard she turned quiet brooks into raging
rivers there that exploded down crevasses, ravines,
spinning tail-end havoc trailing behind,
spun into canada - like a romance gone bad,
the beloved running madly down the street,
clothes flapping wildly - in the descending night,
the tattered remnants of irene’s dying breath 


       From the poem “Michael Jackson’s Arc of Love,” published in Errançities

jagged lightning rips open a black stormy sky over new york city
on a day late in july over a month since you went to “the valley of death”
the lightning tearing the mood asunder reminds me of you hip-jabbing
your signature fractured cut-out silhouette dance jagged
white against black evoking whatever beauty comes to mind during an act
of creative power as lightning strikes bring with it a bold sense of fiery
resurrection of savage beauty the unbridled creative power of music
perhaps sudden lightning & thunder is a reminder of demons possessing us all—
especially you michael despite your gentle spirit—perhaps the sudden fierce
lightning eye saw today was like you—no iambic hexameter line could contain
your combustible spirit zapping through no broken-up space-filled stanzas
all over the page could reflect the arc of your haunting voice aching with longing
though sometimes bright with hard steel glittering off the arch rising above
the mississippi river fronting downtown st. louis during clear nights or days
when moon or sun rays dance across the glittering surface curved there
like a bow in hands of one of our native-american indian ancestors
your compact diamond-hard lightning-quick energy zeroing in during a moment
focused in rhythm inside the music dance of your imaginative quick-silver grooves
within your electric spirit hovering in the sky lancing lightning music
with thunder thrilling with fierce beauty keening through
the firmament of our memory with discharges of incredible magic

your iconic image there in skies around the globe still reminds us
of your glory your creativity imagined with love teaching us through mojo
honing in on mystery & beauty—you will always be there michael as spirit
a sudden bolt of lightning ripping open the blooming sky like today
your arc of music beckoning us to always “make a change”