Skip to content

Poetry by JC Snyder

  • About
  • Contact

  • twice my age

    Shaded eyes
    soulful,
    under hot lights and sweating.

    There, in the midst of Zeppelin blues and the crowd,
    the ageless anticipation, the complicated thought of:
    Screams from bodies trembling, hear those
    soft six string moans,
    microphone inhales and stifled words,
    fevered hands grasping air
    harmonica in crescendo
    until the volume is unbearable, consumed.

    We are so far; I know nothing of him.
    We are so close; I see him there
    leaning darkly beside the stairs.

    [written when i was 20. revised here]

    February 12, 2013

  • "The Cranes, Texas January" by Mark Sanders (Guest Post)

    American Life in Poetry: Column 412
    BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE, 2004-2006

    Mark Sanders, who lives in Texas, is not only a good poet, but he’s an old friend to the poetry of my home ground, working hard as teacher, editor, and publisher to bring Great Plains poetry to the attention of readers across the country. Here’s an example of one of his poems.

    The Cranes, Texas January

    I call my wife outdoors to have her listen,
    to turn her ears upward, beyond the cloud-veiled
    sky where the moon dances thin light,
    to tell her, “Don’t hear the cars on the freeway—

    it’s not the truck-rumble. It is and is not
    the sirens.” She stands there, on deck
    a rocking boat, wanting to please the captain
    who would have her hear the inaudible.

    Her eyes, so blue the day sky is envious,
    fix blackly on me, her mouth poised on question
    like a stone. But, she hears, after all.
                                                     January on the Gulf,
    warm wind washing over us,
    we stand chilled in the winter of those voices.

    American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2011 by Mark Sanders from his most recent book of poems, Conditions of Grace: New and Selected Poems, Stephen F. Austin State University Press, 2011. Poem reprinted by permission of Mark Sanders and the publisher. Introduction copyright 2012 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

    American Life in Poetry ©2006 The Poetry Foundation
    Contact: alp@poetryfoundation.org
    This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.

    February 11, 2013

  • Congrats to my hometown heroes: The Baltimore Ravens

    I just want to relive the moment again.
    Ravens win!
    Streets filling, dancing and chanting in a flurry of snowy excitement,
    beads bouncing around my shoulders,
    a beer here, a purple shot there…

    and every time they mention Baltimore from that confetti-filled dome
    a swell of noise …

    Relive the highs of every touchdown and anxiety of
    “don’t let this slip away, man don’t let it slip away”

    Relive 4 seconds giving way to
    strangers high fiving, hugging,
    all of us family in a city
    known for grit and determination and connectedness as much as violence,
    yes, we have a chip on our shoulder, yes we think the world is out to get us,
    and yes,
    last night… we were ON TOP OF THE WORLD.

    believe in yourself
    is the lesson

    all drenched in a beautiful sea of purple.

    (author is in the middle – we’re number 1!)

    February 4, 2013

  • "what i wish i knew" (from 2010)

    If I had only known,
    I would have taken your face gently in my hands
    And pulled you close to kiss you
    In that very second when I came to understand
    How I loved you.

    The past, and the very late night, speaks volumes;
    I must listen.

    January 31, 2013

  • full moon hidden by unseasonsal January haze

    full moon, we shall have no w o r d s

    tonight, all inhibitions obfuscated by your
    veiled threats of rain

    don’t brush them off

    keep certain eyes off long legs clicking on heels down the cracked city
    sidewalk, look past
    all these unforgivable glances
    between us shadowy figures swapping sips behind the
    loading dock, us strangers
    stretching by a brick wall
    new hands tingling under a cloak of
    hazed obscurity

    January 30, 2013

  • The Connection between Business and Poetry: Interview with Dana Goia

    For those of us living in both worlds of business and art~ check out the following interview! I think you’ll really enjoy it. 

    The Connection Between Business & Poetry

    –by Interview with Dana Goia by Knowledge@Wharton, Original Story, Jan 28, 2013
    SELECTED PASSAGE:
    Useem: Let me reverse the question. From your own experience, can business managers themselves benefit the other way around from poetry?

    Gioia: Oh absolutely, but I think that my own theory on it may surprise people. I think that if you come into the business, with an arts background, you have a tremendously difficult time initially. This is because it’s a very different world, it looks at problems differently and by and large, they don’t necessarily respect your background.

    For that reason, I did not let anyone I worked with know that I was a poet. This is because, let me ask you a question, if you had a poet working for you, wouldn’t you check his or her addition? So privately I went through a very difficult time. That being said, as you rise in business, as you get out of the lower level staff jobs and the quantitative analysis, and you get into the higher level of problems, I felt that I had an enormous advantage over my colleagues because I had a background in the imagination, in language and in literature.

    This is because once you get into middle and upper management, the decisions that you make are largely qualitative and creative. And, most people who do really well in the early quantitative stages are grossly unprepared for the real challenges of upper management, at least in marketing which was the industry that I was working in, marketing and product management.

    Read the full piece.

    January 28, 2013

  • But Only For Now (or now that i have a window)

    Now that I have a window
    I age faster.
    I am a family member who
    is already dead.
    Sun sets: I watch the drop
    to dirt grow faster every day.

    I imagine it is me. I am the sun,
    scorching orange fingernails
    scratching at a dusky sky
    trying to remain relevant and
    sinking.

    [What if, this time, there is no morning?]

    Blushing hints of light. I am my great aunt reborn.
    I am a promise that
    the universe crackles at its tips
    into yet another big bang.

    Look at the man walking, cold breath rising.
    Look at the trees bare to their necks.

    It is winter…
    but only for now.

    January 18, 2013

  • on unemployment (revised)

    I slide low down into my chair.

    Looking at the phone Looking at the phone Looking at the phone …

                  Out my window, rain drops jump the asphalt alive, rain
                  Pours so hard my world greys into one large cloud
                  Shimmer and sliding freely. Trees shake and shudder.

    Phone lies so still. I am
    Waiting on the call Waiting on the call Waiting on the call Waiting on the call Waiting
     

    January 17, 2013

  • remembering my grandfather

    Remembering my grandfather today~ (from his obit, written by my uncle)

    Charles (Chuck) F. Burrows was born August 15, 1915 in Cleveland, Ohio, to his parents Ethel M. and Harry O. Burrows of Shaker Heights. He graduated from Case Institute of Technology in Cleveland with a BS in Metallurgical Engineering in 1937 and a Masters Degree in Metallurgical Engineering in 1939. He was a member of the Phi Kappa Psi Fraternity.

    Thanks to a fortuitous trip to Baltimore, Chuck found the Glenn L Martin Company. The rapidly growing aircraft company was seeking young engineers and offered to hire Chuck on the spot. He started work there in December 1939 and watched the company grow to over 50,000 employees during the war and then downsize to 600 before he retired. Chuck spent a combined total of 45 years with the Martin Company, most of which was spent in the AMT (Advanced Manufacturing Lab). He retired from what was then called Martin Marietta in 1984.

    During part of his career with the Glenn L. Martin Company, he worked at the Omaha, Nebraska plant from 1941-1945. There he worked on the Enola Gay, the B-29 Bomber that dropped the first atomic bomb during WWII. He led a team to structurally test the bomb carrier assembly on the plane and had no idea at the time it was for an atomic bomb. At one point, he almost lost his life when a window exploded out of a B-29 during a pressure test, missing him by inches.

    One of Chuck’s most notable achievements was the Granting of Patent for the Martin Hard Coating Process, which is still in use today.

    Martin Hard Coating is a non-metallic oxide resistant coating applied to aluminum, which provides exceptional corrosion wear resistance. An excellent example of this technology can be found today in Analon Cookware. Chuck’s expertise in metal finishing techniques was world renowned and this was only one of many patents he was responsible for during his career as a metallurgist. Chuck was an avid member of and lecturer with the American Welding Society.

    In the late 1950’s, Chuck started his own business, Metal Finishers, Inc., on Franklintown Road in Baltimore. His company was the first Alcoa-Certified, Martin Hard Coating licensee in Baltimore. The business grew to about 50 employees before aggressive union tactics eventually forced him out of business. With partner Bernie Bandelin, another metallurgist who worked and retired from Martin Marietta, Chuck also started B&B Services, a metals joining and consulting service.

    Chuck owned his own airplane for many years, a 1940’s Ercoupe, which he flew all over the country. He had plenty of hair raising stories to tell of landing in corn fields, leaking fuel tanks, and flying without instrumentation. But this was before meeting the love of his life Florence, who gave him an ultimatum: her or the airplane…. Chuck chose wisely, and he and Flo were happily married for over 58 years.

    Another major aspect of Chuck’s life was his passion for sports, in particular ice hockey and skating. He was on an ice hockey team destined for the 1940 Winter Olympics in Sapporo Japan; however, these games were cancelled due to the onset of World War II. Tough as nails, he had a hard slap shot and even stitched himself up on the sidelines in order to finish the game.

    Chuck was an avid bowler in one of the oldest established men’s leagues in the country, the Drug Trade. He bowled over 50 years in that same league, with 20 of those years shared with his youngest son, Rick. Golf and tennis were other passions. He played as often as he could, especially after he retired. Chuck had an excellent short game, always giving friends and family a fit.

    An active Shiner, Chuck was a member of the Waverly Lodge and a longtime member of the Boumi Temple Harem. He most often paraded in full Harem Costume. He and Flo attended all sorts of functions with the Shrine: dances, the famous Shrine Circus, and of course, the wild Shrine Conventions. Many longtime friends were made in the shrine.

    Vacations with the family were cherished events that took place every summer starting out in Ocean City Maryland and eventually moving to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Playing with his grandchildren, golfing with the boys, playing horseshoes on the beach, relaxing with a newspaper, and going out to eat were Chuck’s favorite pastimes.

    During his retirement, Chuck spent many hours building various woodworking projects that he enjoyed giving away at Christmas time. The family displays them proudly. He and Flo were also active members of St. Timothy’s Lutheran Church for over 50 years.

    January 15, 2013

  • apocalypse (haiku)

    sidewalks buckle, this
    beginning is not an end,
    circles, set us free.

    January 11, 2013

Previous Page Next Page

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Poetry by JC Snyder
    • Join 104 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Poetry by JC Snyder
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar