Poet in the Loop: Chuck Wemple

Friendswood Public Library's off the page poetry series presents Poets in the Loop on Wednesday, September 17 at 7pm. Poets in the Loop is a Houston area poetry critique group with published and award winning poets. Join us for an evening of creative and insightful poetry. 

Chuck Wemple is a scientist and poet currently living and working in Houston Texas. Chuck’s interest in poetry began when he enrolled in a creative writing class at the University of Montana. An elective course at the end of his senior year, an afterthought at the time, the class has heavily influenced his life.  Chuck has written poetry for over 23 years; served as co-editor of the poetry review Spiky Palm; met his wife Mary at a poetry reading; and is currently exploring the world of Executive Management.  His work incorporates themes of mythology, magical realism, and the occasional circus bear.

WHEN YOU COME TO GALVESTON

I will cook lentils for you

Lentils with tiny bits of

Carrot, celery, garlic

Gandhi’s favorite I think

Although I cannot vouch

For the authenticity

Of the online recipe

Other famous

But dead

Vegetarians

Will be there too

Tolstoy cradling a bowl of chickpeas

Cumin and spinach

Pythagoras so pleased

By the smooth geometry

Of stuffed zucchini triangles

I hope one of them remembers

To pull the sweet potatoes from the oven

Because I will be lost in your eyes

Watching you press your lips to the spoon

Wondering if you will ask me again

Was it worth it to mine away the mountains of Nevada

For a handful of wedding bands

But here is where the dream breaks down

Gandhi will want to know if the miners were exploited

Pythagoras will insist to hear more about the steep walls of the pit

Tolstoy will start that old story about how he finally gave up on love

Put on an old coat left his wallet at home caught a train

Caught a cold and died among strangers

The only way to flee the trappings of the past

Is to dance

And a polka is the best way out

So finish the lentils

Take my hand

The accordion the tuba are calling

~Chuck Wemple

CROW NATION 1997

Just down the road from where Custer died

I catch bits of nature from the wind

Blowing across the ridge

Between Bear Creek and Lodgegrass

Between you and me

And tuck them in a small elk skin bag

To weave a charm for love

Earthy taste of camas bulbs

Gnarled swirls of licorice root

Purple juice of hawthorn berries

Some of my tears

Some of my sweat

Some of my spit

Kneed for 10 minutes and let rest

Coyote tells magpie

I am singing for you

Magpie calls out the ancestors

And we all dance atop fields and fields of broken down Buicks

Ancient hillsides move

And the yellow petroleum pipeline

Groans and splinters

This time is different

This time the oilmen have sent someone who cares

Someone who won’t give traditional gifts of old blankets

And new trucks

Someone who won’t laugh

When the medicine man says

That the creek no longer sings

Someone who wears my shirt

Kisses my skin

And walks lightly on the kinikinik

~Chuck Wemple