The Cleave Poetry Webzine [ISSN: 1758-9223]

A cleave poem for Dennis Kelly: Mountain Whispers, by Phuoc-Tan Diep

In submission on April 26, 2009 at 8:50 pm

A cleave poem: Mountain Whispers.

“The first robins are here now, the little green crocus swords have worked their way upward, the first pink buds of the cherry trees are ready to bloom.” Dennis Kelly

when our mountain cries
– this
our waterfall – I know all this is you
the crocus tips – your fingertips
tender – stretch up
bend gently and – from the earth
the mountain’s breath – your breath
stirs the trees, I see – your eyes
beyond the leaves – a face in
my hands – outlines
in the sky – Is that you or
the first robin singing – the mountain whispers?

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  1. That is a wonderful poem. Here is a poem I composed in 1998 in what you have named the “cleave style”

    rain of poetry

    this poem is my writing
    about the rain which forms patterns
    in the air dripping down
    a gray presence through time
    a long affair like a kind of scroll
    sacred not planned
    by its wetness promoting growth
    penetrating to some kind of root
    deep into everything but with no clear purpose
    softening the light diffusing its path
    then drifting away toward some unknown destination

  2. Unfortunately the splits are not shown above. You can see the poem on in my portfolio.

    rain–of poetry

    this poem is–my writing
    about the rain–which forms patterns
    in the air–dripping down
    a gray presence–through time
    a long affair–like a kind of scroll
    sacred–not planned
    by its wetness–promoting growth
    penetrating–to some kind of root
    deep into everything–but with no clear purpose
    softening the light–diffusing its path
    then drifting away–toward some unknown destination

    Richard Dates, 1998

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