NATIONAL POETRY MONTH FEATURING THREE POEMS BY Southern/ Appalachian Born POET ROBERT S. KING

April, 2011, in this our National Poetry Month, we celebrate and we are featuring one of our best southern poets, Robert S. King. He was born in Georgia and grew up in the foothills of the Blue Ridge.
Robert is currently the Director of FutureCycle Press (www.futurecycle.org) and serves as President of the Georgia Poetry Society (www.georgiapoetrysociety.org).  Additionally, he is a member of  the Georgia Writers Association and the North Carolina Writers Network.

I know Robert S. King as a long time practicing poet who has given many of his hours, days and years promoting the poetry of others, in fact, he was one of the first to publish my poems in the 1970's. I see him now, in semi retirement, still hoping for a minute to work on his own poetry while, yes, still giving much to publish the work of others. He has "punched his time card," he's "given at the office." I'd like to see Robert S. King get the acceptance for his own poetry that he deserves.


THREE POEMS BY ROBERT S. KING

Dream of the Electric Eel

nothing shocks me

not even the black leaves forming the sky

of this swamp nor my shape

in the dark water dammed with ash

no one to hug me

I am my own arm

have made the absence of touch a weapon

made my voice an image in the current

too late announcing my coming

fishermen throw me back without touching the line

snakes shed a skin of ash

when I grow suddenly warm

underwater lightning

I have left a trail of fire

on the river’s back

for mine is the voice that boils water

yet makes it feel cold

they say an eel is lower than a snake

that even the swamp is above him

but I say I have fallen like a power

line leaping on the river

that when I go down

all I touch twitches

and rises to the top

--first published in Southern Poetry Review

Reprinted in The Hunted River

 What Missing the Cat Means

—for Ian, my son, after Thai went away

It means that something in nature hungered for change,

perhaps the cat, maybe his taker,

perhaps the circular soul of give and take, life and death.

Loss is a hole that forget-me-nots grow back around.

Loyalty is a beautiful gown of leaves

worn together for a season.

Then the pet will not so much leave you as go on.

Or change his form, invisible as wind

that blows far beyond a mere nine lives.

We sweep the floor where his shed white fur

almost forms him whole again.

He is still in our gravity

in the snake’s or the hawk’s eye.

His taker has taken on his white shadow,

his night vision, and among the crickets

his purr and soft rubbings.

You will always have him,

though you must seek him beyond this moment’s void.

Keep his touch to warm your room

but look out across these whiskers of grass,

let him hunt there in a greater self.

Love that holds is less than love that frees,

but you may keep the gift

of knowing that whatever his form,

he’s moved by your gentle rain, still feels

your hands softly along his rainbowed back.

--first published in Gaia: A Journal of Literary & Environmental Arts

Reprinted in The Hunted River

 The Last Saint of the Empire

Stranger, I am cupping in my hands

the land’s last water for you.

You will not drink alone.

The sun too is steaming in this meager pool.

Drink before the water boils away.

What you have won is mostly smoke:

Above us, old mystics, old clouds,

redden from the dust of battle:

the wind twists them like sponges,

wringing out across the valley

a dry and crimson rain:

Even the gentle, holy winds rub

together like flint:

below them the frocks flame:

the shadows of monks are dark ash

piling up in prayer.

My invader, my wounded heir,

you are drinking my boiling blood.

You must swallow what you conquer.

You must dress for the weather you bring.

It is a hot day:

Smell the feathers of the angels burning.

--first published in En Passant

Reprinted in The Hunted River

 Want to buy a copy of The Hunted River by Robert S. King?

Robert has published in hundreds of magazines, including The Kenyon Review, Southern Poetry Review, ELF: Eclectic Literary Forum, Midwest Quarterly, California Quarterly, Chariton Review, Negative Capability, The Hollins Critic, Blue Unicorn, Poem, Louisville Review, En Passant, Xanadu, Chattahoochee Review, The Cape Rock, Amelia, Slant, Sow's Ear, Windless Orchard, Great River Review, Visions Inter­national, Writers' Forum, Lullwater Review, Permafrost, Habersham Review, Spoon River Poetry Review,The Bridge, Hellas, Hammers, Poetpourri, Grasslands Review, Lungfish Review, etc.

His chapbook titles are When Stars Fall Down as Snow (Garland Press, 1976), Dream of the Electric Eel (Wolfsong Publications, 1982), and Traveller’s Tale (Whistle Press, 1998).

Two full-length titles, The Hunted River and The Gravedigger’s Roots, were published by Shared Roads Press in 2009.

Robert is available for readings, lectures, and workshops. You may contact him at rsking@futurecycle.org.