* * *
110325
THIS I KNOW FOR SURE (for Oprah)
A day without poetry
is like a night without moonshine.
[ASIDE: O Magazine seeks short poems on Twitter.]
110324
IT’S ALL IN THE
EXECUTION
Bad poem.
Bad, bad poem.
Take it out
and shoot it.
String it up
and shoot it down;
the only way
to mute it.
110323
IMAGINE (for Cat)
Imagine all problems
as subject to mind—
imagine imagination
making humankind kind.
[ASIDE: I'd say, for John Lennon too.]
110322
TROUBLESOME TRENDS
Neighbor pups encroach our cats.
That isn’t all that’s rough—
my to-do’s outswamp my done’s;
I can’t bail fast enough.
110321
THIS SCEPTERED WHILE
Winter’s dead.
Long live the king.
Spring! Spring!
Spring! Spring!
(Please excuse;
I must enthuse.)
110320
THE PAUSE THAT REFRESHES
Weekends! Weekends!
Time for fun and friends.
At end of week
when we’re weak from work,
they’re when that work-weak ends.
110319
MUTUAL
MIS-JUDGMENT
All that fighting
and hurt feelings—
what was that about?
No, don’t remind me—
this is truth and peace;
that was doubt.
110318
ANATOMY ANOMALY
What a piece of work is man,
whose body is an art.
Today I thanked my precious hands;
“Darlin’s, —bless your heart.”
110317
THE JIG IS UP
For Paddy’s day, I’d do a jig,
but don’t know how to jig-gle;
in fact, I cannot even do
a decent sort of wiggle.
On dancing lessons, I missed out.
At the tango, I’m not hot.
I never, ever twist and shout.
Fan-dance? Please!
And can-can, I cannot.
110316
REVISION
watercolor lessons
give me
watercolor eyes
now I see
watercolor flowers
watercolor skies
110315
MODERN TURMOIL
The Ides of March—irrelevant?
They scarcely drew a mention.
Japan and the Middle East
commanded our attention.
110314
PI DAY TRIBUTE (for Diane)
While you and I stand idly by
without a clue and wonder why,
she bakes circles around us—
she knows her way around a pie.
[ASIDE: She's a numbers person; the kind who likes
bookkeeping and tax preparations.]
110313
RECOUPERATION
wedding ring
car keys
other things like these
feared lost
assumed lost
find their way to me
110312
THERE’S ALWAYS A CATCH
A paradox—or plot, or ruse!
Freedom seekers, you’re forced to choose
among more expressions than you can use—
at least at once.
You win; you lose.
110311
LIONS’ CARD IDEA
Some birthdays are already done.
We hope today’s your greatest one…
and that the best are still to come.
110310
ANOTHER FINE MESS
“Oh, no—not again!
How many times have I asked you
not to do this—and you went ahead
and did it again. I am so frustrated,
I just can’t to talk to you right now.
No, I can't say another word!
Hey, are you listening to me?”
110309
LENTEN OBSERVANCE (for Joyce)
The "worker" that we trusted
has been oh-so-busted!
This photo makes it evident
how her life and Lent are spent.
[ASIDE: Coworkers shot evidence of her sleeping at her desk.]
110308
LOVE, LOVE ME, DO
If not top-of-mind,
it’s surely bottom-line
to all our prayers—
someone who cares.
110307
UNTITLED
All worlds
for me
will end
with me.
110306
HER HIGHNESS
In royal air and regal pose,
her rarified lineage shows—
and she, through its expression
makes quite a grand empression.
* * *
Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts
Friday, March 25, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Mundane Magic
* * *
110305
DIM WIT
I searched my thoughts
and recognized
that they were not profound
and, further,
that what dimmed them
was my wanting to astound.
110304
DISSERTATION:
DEFINITION
Demonstrated mastery
achieved through slavery.
110303
A POINT I WANT TO MAKE (for Lauren)
Truth is where you find it—
and what, through art,
it can become.
What's okay for you
is what's okay for you,
just as what's Donne is Donne.
110302
HER FLUFFINESS
“Darlin’, you’re a fluffy cat.
Notice, I did not say fat!
Living large (your predilection)
can align with looking slim;
in fact, you’ll see this when I trim.”
“Why would you shear perfection?”
110301
MYSTICS’ MYSTERY
If everything were innocent,
how could anything be wrong?
And why, if this premise were right,
does it seem to most humans so wrong?
110230
SLEEPER (for Arianna)
Arianna needed sleep
and, at last, she got it.
Now she's its ambassador—
whoever would have thought it?
110229
TRADE WARS
Books,
overproduced and devalued,
have become the kindling
of their own immolation—
reduced, like their authors,
to a dwindling status:
used as loss leaders
in the battle for readers.
110228
NATURAL SHOCKS
Freely weep,
rail, moan.
Pain
is a runestone
in a language
not yet known.
110227
“GETTING” MY WAY
NO! to that.
OH! to this:
I’m happy and healthy
and strong and free and rich.
YES! to what is so:
the one and only bliss.
110226
OSCARS (for Paula)
When you have
a front-row seat,
life is good,
life is tweet.
[ASIDE: Reply to Paula Poundstone who tweeted:
“I’m gonna tweet the #Oscars like a goddamned bird.”]
YOUR OWN DECISIONS
Some will like them.
But, for those who won’t,
you’re damned if you do,
damned if you don’t.
[ASIDE: FB comment on other comments to an Oprah
OWN show announcement.]
110225
MORAL SUPPORT
Into judgment and pride I easily slide
but when I choose to let these errors go by,
my willingness gets amplified;
there, but for the God of Grace, go I.
110224
TRENDING NOW
A sort of quirk,
(I’ve lately noticed)
affects my social network:
more Facebook posts
and fewer Tweets
are penned.
Is there meaning
in this trend?
110223
WARM WISHES
Like and for
everyone—
all I want
is a place
in the sun.
HARD, HARD TIMES
Hard times are coming.
Nerves tense; pulses quicken;
we feel it in our bones.
Hard, hard times are coming;
no bones about it,
we feel it in our bones.
But we are poised to conquer.
Here's what we must do:
joined together as one body,
brain and heart and muscle through.
T.L.C.
Little One beside me,
softly making little purrs,
does the Great One
tend to my needs,
as I tend to tending yours?
MEDITATORS
You have to lose
your mind (said one)
to find just-breathing’s
so much fun.
OUT-SOURCERY
Even if God
didn’t care for us,
except through us—
that alone
would be magical.
* * *
110305
DIM WIT
I searched my thoughts
and recognized
that they were not profound
and, further,
that what dimmed them
was my wanting to astound.
110304
DISSERTATION:
DEFINITION
Demonstrated mastery
achieved through slavery.
110303
A POINT I WANT TO MAKE (for Lauren)
Truth is where you find it—
and what, through art,
it can become.
What's okay for you
is what's okay for you,
just as what's Donne is Donne.
110302
HER FLUFFINESS
“Darlin’, you’re a fluffy cat.
Notice, I did not say fat!
Living large (your predilection)
can align with looking slim;
in fact, you’ll see this when I trim.”
“Why would you shear perfection?”
110301
MYSTICS’ MYSTERY
If everything were innocent,
how could anything be wrong?
And why, if this premise were right,
does it seem to most humans so wrong?
110230
SLEEPER (for Arianna)
Arianna needed sleep
and, at last, she got it.
Now she's its ambassador—
whoever would have thought it?
110229
TRADE WARS
Books,
overproduced and devalued,
have become the kindling
of their own immolation—
reduced, like their authors,
to a dwindling status:
used as loss leaders
in the battle for readers.
110228
NATURAL SHOCKS
Freely weep,
rail, moan.
Pain
is a runestone
in a language
not yet known.
110227
“GETTING” MY WAY
NO! to that.
OH! to this:
I’m happy and healthy
and strong and free and rich.
YES! to what is so:
the one and only bliss.
110226
OSCARS (for Paula)
When you have
a front-row seat,
life is good,
life is tweet.
[ASIDE: Reply to Paula Poundstone who tweeted:
“I’m gonna tweet the #Oscars like a goddamned bird.”]
YOUR OWN DECISIONS
Some will like them.
But, for those who won’t,
you’re damned if you do,
damned if you don’t.
[ASIDE: FB comment on other comments to an Oprah
OWN show announcement.]
110225
MORAL SUPPORT
Into judgment and pride I easily slide
but when I choose to let these errors go by,
my willingness gets amplified;
there, but for the God of Grace, go I.
110224
TRENDING NOW
A sort of quirk,
(I’ve lately noticed)
affects my social network:
more Facebook posts
and fewer Tweets
are penned.
Is there meaning
in this trend?
110223
WARM WISHES
Like and for
everyone—
all I want
is a place
in the sun.
HARD, HARD TIMES
Hard times are coming.
Nerves tense; pulses quicken;
we feel it in our bones.
Hard, hard times are coming;
no bones about it,
we feel it in our bones.
But we are poised to conquer.
Here's what we must do:
joined together as one body,
brain and heart and muscle through.
T.L.C.
Little One beside me,
softly making little purrs,
does the Great One
tend to my needs,
as I tend to tending yours?
MEDITATORS
You have to lose
your mind (said one)
to find just-breathing’s
so much fun.
OUT-SOURCERY
Even if God
didn’t care for us,
except through us—
that alone
would be magical.
* * *
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Adventure and Speculation
* * *
110222
MIDDAY NAP
Someone wearing white stockings,
petticoats, and a gold silk pinafore
is tumbling down a long, cushiony hill.
Lying in bed and viewing this,
I know it’s me, gently bouncing down
from lush spring-green heights,
skimming over golden tufts
of autumn grasses, and approaching
a long, gentle out-of-view slope
that will end abruptly and culminate
in something wonderful or tragic.
110221
NEWS OF THE DAY
People- and earth-
quakes rumble.
Dictators and buildings tumble.
Thinkers fumble.
Doers stumble.
The world is all a-jumble
[ASIDE: Uprisings in the Middle East,
Earthquake in New Zealand.]
110220
JUST DO IT
Coax bad habits
down the stairs?
Slow-mo tweeze
your nasal hairs?
110219
CAT: A TONIC (for Butterscotch)
What once was merely preferential
now is clearly near-essential:
a daily dose of cat to schmooze
(it hardly matters whose).
110218
"WHY" GENERATION (for Allan)
Why are unanswerable
questions the ones I pose?
Why, why, why
am I obsessed with those?
110217
IN BRIEF
Why use
long words?
Short will do.
Short is better;
four-letter…
three-letter…
look, too, to two.
PLAY, MATES!
To kinder spirits,
it’s one big garten.
THINKING ABOUT
NOT THINKING
I was born.
I talked.
I stopped to think.
Now I think
it may be better
not to talk,
not to think.
Such emptiness
may well be
death’s birth canal.
110216
CLOUDS FORMING
“Such a pretty sunrise—
but enjoy it; this may be
the only sun we see today.”
“What—are there more?”
PEACE BY PEACE
When belief causes grief,
this may make some sense:
seek contrary evidence.
110215
TREAD LIGHTLY
I don’t know what happened
to elicit this—but, dang!
“Don’t insult me, mister!
I’m the quiet type with fangs.”
[ASIDE: Encountered on Twitter.]
A WALK IN THE “PLARK”
That’s when play and work
run together indistiguishably
(walk together; same thing).
GOOD WRITING (for Christopher)
Take a simple story
with characters
you care about.
Tell it well. No doubt,
your readers will care too.
Face your fears.
Accept help, insights,
feedback, and advice.
Join others who
struggle like you.
Get unserious;
make it fun.
Go nuts!
Keep it simple.
Be bold.
Write with guts.
[ASIDE: Comment/synopsis made at:
http://www.fuelyourwriting.com/
power-of-words-the-kings-speech-and-good-writing/]
110214
LOVE IS BLIND
Chocolate candy, pink lace hearts,
red-red roses, cupid darts…
From dollar store to galleria,
valentine excess overflows.
Bows and arrows, ribbons and bows…
Surely, everybody knows...
had it been a fresh idea
(something neither myth-icized,
love-aligned, nor cute-ified)—
cupid would be stupid.
DEAR YOU… LOVE, ME (for Darby)
Beyond this world’s illusion,
we are in collusion...
enacting love’s inclusion.
Love is all we are.
Love is all we do,
even when not meaning to.
LOST IN THE MIDDLE
I like to piddle.
I like to twiddle.
I like to not make up my mind.
Or else, I find,
I like to make it up one way,
then down another,
again and again and again.
I like to piddle
and twiddle and fiddle—
but why? That’s the riddle.
NEW MEMBER (for LeaAnn)
“LeaAnn Van Winkle-Gisler”
…now, THAT name is a whistler!
How many other times
ya think this “LeeAnn” rhymes?
110213
DAY? OH!
Sun.
Him come.
Him wake up
everyone.
110212
RIGHT?
To believe a belief,
one has to believe
all contrary evidence
lies.
LEAD ON
How will You direct my day today;
what will You have me do?
How will You invite, incite;
what will You move me to?
NOT ALL THAT UNEXPECTED
Why do scientists keep discovering
fabulous things like quarks and quasars,
black holes, and distant planets?
Because we keep thinking them up.
[ASIDE: Some posit that the universe is made of thought
and keeps extending outward from our consciousness
as the range of our thought increases.]
DESIGN SPECIFICATIONS
My latest rabbit hole
(a logo design contest)
was a lost cause
from the get-go.
So I got-gone—
or at least
my prospects did
(which means I’m still snagged).
Well, I will submit my superb
(trust me) entry anyway,
sure that it will be disqualified
on a technical technicality—
specifically, my lack of
the specific technology needed
to produce the design
in a specific software format.
But I can hardly call this
a “lost weekend"—
the difficulties were such
a satisfying challenge.
[ASIDE: My determination to do my best, once I’d launched,
resulted in a submission that did meet the design specifications—
thanks to contributions of knowledge and expertise by
some of my artist friends… may they be blessed!]
110211
AS EXPECTED
“What if?”
That’s the most
wonderful wonder.
What if… I’m okay?
What if… it’s okay?
What if it’s okay
if I’m okay
with whatever is?
110210
QUI SUM
Throwing off fear,
shame and sham,
I claim myself.
I say who I am.
PIQUANT
To a poem,
time is spice.
Read it slow.
Read it twice.
DEFLATED
Sixteen inches this morning,
compared to twenty yesterday:
a too-quick collapse of our
wonderful snow soufflé!
COLD, HARD
LIGHT OF DAY
Last night, I placed paper
and pencil by my bed.
In the dark, I wrote a poem.
There was no pencil lead.
NOLA PRIMA DONNA (for Valerie)
Alligator... hurricane...
you'd think she was a bold one.
No, she's mean and vain;
she taunts;
she flaunts good fortune.
She's the cold one!
[ASIDE: Valerie, my niece, contrasted her fine evening
in New Orleans with the circumstances of Arkansas relatives
blanketed under 20” of snow. Why? Because (she said) she is mean.]
* * *
110222
MIDDAY NAP
Someone wearing white stockings,
petticoats, and a gold silk pinafore
is tumbling down a long, cushiony hill.
Lying in bed and viewing this,
I know it’s me, gently bouncing down
from lush spring-green heights,
skimming over golden tufts
of autumn grasses, and approaching
a long, gentle out-of-view slope
that will end abruptly and culminate
in something wonderful or tragic.
110221
NEWS OF THE DAY
People- and earth-
quakes rumble.
Dictators and buildings tumble.
Thinkers fumble.
Doers stumble.
The world is all a-jumble
[ASIDE: Uprisings in the Middle East,
Earthquake in New Zealand.]
110220
JUST DO IT
Coax bad habits
down the stairs?
Slow-mo tweeze
your nasal hairs?
110219
CAT: A TONIC (for Butterscotch)
What once was merely preferential
now is clearly near-essential:
a daily dose of cat to schmooze
(it hardly matters whose).
110218
"WHY" GENERATION (for Allan)
Why are unanswerable
questions the ones I pose?
Why, why, why
am I obsessed with those?
110217
IN BRIEF
Why use
long words?
Short will do.
Short is better;
four-letter…
three-letter…
look, too, to two.
PLAY, MATES!
To kinder spirits,
it’s one big garten.
THINKING ABOUT
NOT THINKING
I was born.
I talked.
I stopped to think.
Now I think
it may be better
not to talk,
not to think.
Such emptiness
may well be
death’s birth canal.
110216
CLOUDS FORMING
“Such a pretty sunrise—
but enjoy it; this may be
the only sun we see today.”
“What—are there more?”
PEACE BY PEACE
When belief causes grief,
this may make some sense:
seek contrary evidence.
110215
TREAD LIGHTLY
I don’t know what happened
to elicit this—but, dang!
“Don’t insult me, mister!
I’m the quiet type with fangs.”
[ASIDE: Encountered on Twitter.]
A WALK IN THE “PLARK”
That’s when play and work
run together indistiguishably
(walk together; same thing).
GOOD WRITING (for Christopher)
Take a simple story
with characters
you care about.
Tell it well. No doubt,
your readers will care too.
Face your fears.
Accept help, insights,
feedback, and advice.
Join others who
struggle like you.
Get unserious;
make it fun.
Go nuts!
Keep it simple.
Be bold.
Write with guts.
[ASIDE: Comment/synopsis made at:
http://www.fuelyourwriting.com/
power-of-words-the-kings-speech-and-good-writing/]
110214
LOVE IS BLIND
Chocolate candy, pink lace hearts,
red-red roses, cupid darts…
From dollar store to galleria,
valentine excess overflows.
Bows and arrows, ribbons and bows…
Surely, everybody knows...
had it been a fresh idea
(something neither myth-icized,
love-aligned, nor cute-ified)—
cupid would be stupid.
DEAR YOU… LOVE, ME (for Darby)
Beyond this world’s illusion,
we are in collusion...
enacting love’s inclusion.
Love is all we are.
Love is all we do,
even when not meaning to.
LOST IN THE MIDDLE
I like to piddle.
I like to twiddle.
I like to not make up my mind.
Or else, I find,
I like to make it up one way,
then down another,
again and again and again.
I like to piddle
and twiddle and fiddle—
but why? That’s the riddle.
NEW MEMBER (for LeaAnn)
“LeaAnn Van Winkle-Gisler”
…now, THAT name is a whistler!
How many other times
ya think this “LeeAnn” rhymes?
110213
DAY? OH!
Sun.
Him come.
Him wake up
everyone.
110212
RIGHT?
To believe a belief,
one has to believe
all contrary evidence
lies.
LEAD ON
How will You direct my day today;
what will You have me do?
How will You invite, incite;
what will You move me to?
NOT ALL THAT UNEXPECTED
Why do scientists keep discovering
fabulous things like quarks and quasars,
black holes, and distant planets?
Because we keep thinking them up.
[ASIDE: Some posit that the universe is made of thought
and keeps extending outward from our consciousness
as the range of our thought increases.]
DESIGN SPECIFICATIONS
My latest rabbit hole
(a logo design contest)
was a lost cause
from the get-go.
So I got-gone—
or at least
my prospects did
(which means I’m still snagged).
Well, I will submit my superb
(trust me) entry anyway,
sure that it will be disqualified
on a technical technicality—
specifically, my lack of
the specific technology needed
to produce the design
in a specific software format.
But I can hardly call this
a “lost weekend"—
the difficulties were such
a satisfying challenge.
[ASIDE: My determination to do my best, once I’d launched,
resulted in a submission that did meet the design specifications—
thanks to contributions of knowledge and expertise by
some of my artist friends… may they be blessed!]
110211
AS EXPECTED
“What if?”
That’s the most
wonderful wonder.
What if… I’m okay?
What if… it’s okay?
What if it’s okay
if I’m okay
with whatever is?
110210
QUI SUM
Throwing off fear,
shame and sham,
I claim myself.
I say who I am.
PIQUANT
To a poem,
time is spice.
Read it slow.
Read it twice.
DEFLATED
Sixteen inches this morning,
compared to twenty yesterday:
a too-quick collapse of our
wonderful snow soufflé!
COLD, HARD
LIGHT OF DAY
Last night, I placed paper
and pencil by my bed.
In the dark, I wrote a poem.
There was no pencil lead.
NOLA PRIMA DONNA (for Valerie)
Alligator... hurricane...
you'd think she was a bold one.
No, she's mean and vain;
she taunts;
she flaunts good fortune.
She's the cold one!
[ASIDE: Valerie, my niece, contrasted her fine evening
in New Orleans with the circumstances of Arkansas relatives
blanketed under 20” of snow. Why? Because (she said) she is mean.]
* * *
Friday, February 4, 2011
Snow Day Play
* * *
110202
OBLITERATED
When you're young
and take things literally,
news can be so cool!
"Yesterday it snowed.
Today there is no school."
[ASIDE: Original title was CANCELLATION
but readers tended overlook the import.]
ALONE TOGETHER
It’s true—the thought
that ought to be outrageous:
cabin fever is contagious!
BOOKING AGENT
From among the many beside my bed,
I chose a book—to back the torn-open
envelope on which I prepare to write.
Ethan, recognizing poem-mode
when he sees it, asks, “What’s up?”
“I’d been dreaming I was with Oprah
on her show, talking poetry;
that’s sure to launch a poem.”
Shifting my writing materials slightly,
I catch sight of the book’s title and its
implications: The Magic of Thinking Big.
FOUR-PHASE FROST
Kitty catches sight of snow.
Kitty says, “Me-oh!”
* * *
Kitty starts to pine and pout.
Kitty says, “Me-out!”
* * *
Kitty chills, in every paw.
Kitty says “Me-aw!”
* * *
Kitty sees the snow anew.
Kitty says, Me-eeewww!
THAT MY CAT
her a beauty
her a wonder
her got moods
like snow and thunder
her have fur
her make purr
when her run,
her just a blurr
when her sleep,
some sweet angel
when her stir,
some kinda devil
sometime share
sometime plunder
that my cat
some kinda wonder
CHILD AT HEART
Saying
that I love Her ways.
Asking
not to be afraid.
Believing
He is wise and true.
Curious
about taboo.
Gazing
at the world She made.
Hoping
I will stay amazed.
Thinking
He may be a fraud.
This is how
I play with God.
SNOWFLAKES
Like you—
we come,
we play,
we melt away.
WINTER SKY
I see blue;
icy blue.
NAMASTE
Here is where I am,
so here is where I start...
sharing who I am,
sharing from the heart.
* * *
110202
OBLITERATED
When you're young
and take things literally,
news can be so cool!
"Yesterday it snowed.
Today there is no school."
[ASIDE: Original title was CANCELLATION
but readers tended overlook the import.]
ALONE TOGETHER
It’s true—the thought
that ought to be outrageous:
cabin fever is contagious!
BOOKING AGENT
From among the many beside my bed,
I chose a book—to back the torn-open
envelope on which I prepare to write.
Ethan, recognizing poem-mode
when he sees it, asks, “What’s up?”
“I’d been dreaming I was with Oprah
on her show, talking poetry;
that’s sure to launch a poem.”
Shifting my writing materials slightly,
I catch sight of the book’s title and its
implications: The Magic of Thinking Big.
FOUR-PHASE FROST
Kitty catches sight of snow.
Kitty says, “Me-oh!”
* * *
Kitty starts to pine and pout.
Kitty says, “Me-out!”
* * *
Kitty chills, in every paw.
Kitty says “Me-aw!”
* * *
Kitty sees the snow anew.
Kitty says, Me-eeewww!
THAT MY CAT
her a beauty
her a wonder
her got moods
like snow and thunder
her have fur
her make purr
when her run,
her just a blurr
when her sleep,
some sweet angel
when her stir,
some kinda devil
sometime share
sometime plunder
that my cat
some kinda wonder
CHILD AT HEART
Saying
that I love Her ways.
Asking
not to be afraid.
Believing
He is wise and true.
Curious
about taboo.
Gazing
at the world She made.
Hoping
I will stay amazed.
Thinking
He may be a fraud.
This is how
I play with God.
SNOWFLAKES
Like you—
we come,
we play,
we melt away.
WINTER SKY
I see blue;
icy blue.
NAMASTE
Here is where I am,
so here is where I start...
sharing who I am,
sharing from the heart.
* * *
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Winter Sprouts
* * *
110201
PRE-SNOWSTORM
Dear media,
be speedia.
Politics, crime, gossip, sports...?
We want weather reports!
110131
MAIS NO! MAIS OUI!
Pleasure means feeling good.
Guilty means feeling bad.
In truth, can people claim
“guilty pleasures” they've had?
The terms are oxymoronic,
separate as vinegar and oil—
but, if egged on, they may (oh!)
merge in a marriage royal.
110130
A LITTLE NUTHIN’
Pomes make homes
fer minds, I think.
Sum o’ them are logs.
This’n is a chink.
110129
HEALTH FOOD FORAYS
In the aim of health and the form of seeds,
I bought some chia for my pet,
by which I mean my husband;
he who claims that sprouts are weeds
and the taste of pulses repulses.
Pre-diabetes has him hexed
and I'm sure he's wondering what is next
in the way of seeds and weeds.
Though I don't plan to feed him vetch,
I'm keen he be keen on quinoa.
110128
EARLY THANKSGIVING
An early wake, an early rise,
comes today as a surprise—
a gift to squander or invest;
to rust-and-rest or do my best.
So, using pen as my voice,
I choose to make my highest choice
of how to spend this interlude:
a litany of gratitude...
for every person in my life,
for my role as someone's wife,
for health and wealth and soul and mind,
for Nature's wonders, and Divine.
110127
AT THE CLUB
Round and round,
we're walking laps;
we don't want
our health to lapse.
Round and round,
laps on laps;
laps on laps
till we collapse.
110126
UNEXCEPTIONAL
EXCEPTIONS
In every season,
come unseasonable days—
extra hot or cold.
For some reason,
people seem amazed
when such days take hold.
110125
DEAR CATS
Thank you, cats,
for something new
(especially a certain
one of you).
How long’s it been
(one week? or two?)
since you’ve mis-placed
your pee or poo?
110124
PRE-DIABETES
Do not let this
be defeating.
Master wholesome
ways of eating.
110123
TROUBLES, KNEE DEEP
"My knees, my knees,"
he groans. "I don't know if I can
make it to the top of the stairs
with these knees."
"Well, don't leave them
at the bottom," she protests.
"I'll be sure to trip over them."
110122
THE RAISING OF THE BAR (for Susan)
We had a peek, this week,
at a friendly small-town town,
one that deserves renown:
Morrilton.
So solicitous of us
were the people there,
they raised the bar on care.
"Thanks. Well done."
* * *
110201
PRE-SNOWSTORM
Dear media,
be speedia.
Politics, crime, gossip, sports...?
We want weather reports!
110131
MAIS NO! MAIS OUI!
Pleasure means feeling good.
Guilty means feeling bad.
In truth, can people claim
“guilty pleasures” they've had?
The terms are oxymoronic,
separate as vinegar and oil—
but, if egged on, they may (oh!)
merge in a marriage royal.
110130
A LITTLE NUTHIN’
Pomes make homes
fer minds, I think.
Sum o’ them are logs.
This’n is a chink.
110129
HEALTH FOOD FORAYS
In the aim of health and the form of seeds,
I bought some chia for my pet,
by which I mean my husband;
he who claims that sprouts are weeds
and the taste of pulses repulses.
Pre-diabetes has him hexed
and I'm sure he's wondering what is next
in the way of seeds and weeds.
Though I don't plan to feed him vetch,
I'm keen he be keen on quinoa.
110128
EARLY THANKSGIVING
An early wake, an early rise,
comes today as a surprise—
a gift to squander or invest;
to rust-and-rest or do my best.
So, using pen as my voice,
I choose to make my highest choice
of how to spend this interlude:
a litany of gratitude...
for every person in my life,
for my role as someone's wife,
for health and wealth and soul and mind,
for Nature's wonders, and Divine.
110127
AT THE CLUB
Round and round,
we're walking laps;
we don't want
our health to lapse.
Round and round,
laps on laps;
laps on laps
till we collapse.
110126
UNEXCEPTIONAL
EXCEPTIONS
In every season,
come unseasonable days—
extra hot or cold.
For some reason,
people seem amazed
when such days take hold.
110125
DEAR CATS
Thank you, cats,
for something new
(especially a certain
one of you).
How long’s it been
(one week? or two?)
since you’ve mis-placed
your pee or poo?
110124
PRE-DIABETES
Do not let this
be defeating.
Master wholesome
ways of eating.
110123
TROUBLES, KNEE DEEP
"My knees, my knees,"
he groans. "I don't know if I can
make it to the top of the stairs
with these knees."
"Well, don't leave them
at the bottom," she protests.
"I'll be sure to trip over them."
110122
THE RAISING OF THE BAR (for Susan)
We had a peek, this week,
at a friendly small-town town,
one that deserves renown:
Morrilton.
So solicitous of us
were the people there,
they raised the bar on care.
"Thanks. Well done."
* * *
Saturday, January 22, 2011
The Usual Gamut
* * *
110121
DIABETES AND YOU (for Jaime)
Diabetes comes from DNA
and from the way you work and play.
Diabetes comes from what you eat,
especially food too fat or sweet.
Diabetes makes you drink and pee,
plus, it affects how well you see.
It makes you tired, it numbs your feet.
Let's make this sickness obsolete.
Do not be a diabete!
[ASIDE: Jaime made a presentation on diabetes
and footcare to our Lions Club.]
110120
COFFEE PRE-JUNKIE (for Lizzie)
Medicate your head?
Why do what you will rue
and later struggle to undo?
Meditate instead.
110119
PLEASE EXPLAIN
Who is this person who,
in photos and in mirrors,
looks pillowy, marshmallowy,
and billowy, but who,
inside, feels willowy?
110118
THE EVERYDAY VARIETY
For better or for worse,
I make and fill my own thirst;
when I want a poem, I write a verse,
and—best of all—get to read it first!
DEMISE SURPRISE (for Sargent)
Someone just died
at age ninety-five.
People keep dying
not known still alive.
110117
WINTER WAKING
Winter-haze tonal grays
can make moon-sky
bright as noon-sky
and early wakers wonder
whether morning
is coming or glowing.
110116
DRAFT HORSE
I’m workin’ on
a long, long pome;
plowin’ long and steady.
It’s gonna be
a hard, hard pome;
I’m tired of it already.
A BOUT
Clouds out-crowd.
Clouds attack.
Sun’s uncowed by bully clouds—
through a crack, it slips back.
Then it puts those clouds to rout.
Sun is back.
Sun is out.
How does this come about?
Sun, no doubt, has more clout.
110115
EMBRACING THE SHADOW
[ASIDE: Under construction. This long poem
will take a while to complete and edit.]
110114
PROGRESSION
Winter is kind,
and ever more bright;
as she suspends heat,
she extends light.
OFFSPRING
You greased it, eased it,
cursed, birthed, and nursed it.
You raised it, praised it,
groomed it, pruned it.
You composed, concocted,
and spun it;
and it looks so easy
once you've done it.
110113
WHEN?
Bundled up
one way or another
season after season
people are waiting
people are holding in;
bundled up
one way or another
season after season
bundled up as babies
people are holding on
looking to each other
each waiting for the other
waiting for release
bundled up and waiting
waiting for a reason
or just for an excuse.
110112
WINTER BLISS (for Connie)
Perfectly
simple serenity:
me on bed
in sunlight spotlight;
cat on me.
110111
BLIND REFLECTIONS
Emma dear, Emma wise—
what’s inside those Emma eyes?
I see, in them, myself reflected
but mine are not, to you, a mirror.
I see in yours myself reflecting
why mine are not, for you, a mirror.
Emma dear, Emma wise—
what’s inside your Emma eyes?
110110
POETRY
Not the words but the way;
no specific thing you say.
It’s the truth told by the lie,
the do not know that answers why.
110109
BEAUTY MARKS
A few of the nuns
(let's not say which ones)
had—let us say—
facial blemishes
which, in any case,
they bore with good grace,
helping us know
what God cherishes.
MOMENTOUS
In this now,
my struggle’s
through.
World, …I am
at peace with you.
OBIT
Poet:
probed deeply,
wrote long,
reportedly died of
stub wounds.
WEB OF DECEIT
E-linked, business-network friends
keep recommending further friends,
but to claim these, one must state
form of relationship to date.
For the terms sites recommend
(classmate/colleague/client/friend),
how to answer is hard to guess—
there’s no sort of, just no or yes—
and these implied acquaintanceships
foster false pre-lationships.
110108
SLEEP-IN
I wake today
when the birds untree
and rise to flock.
I wake to the sun
and not to the clock.
BRIEF SANCTUARY
They’re our cats
but we root for the mice,
one of which
was discovered today
dried and flattened
under an out-of-the-way rug.
Poor baby is now a mummy.
110107
ISP’S
Once the computer
was an extension of us;
now that’s vice versa…
and it keeps getting
wersa and wersa.
110106
GOOD DAY
Up, groom, eat,
then out the door.
Drive, arrive, work, drive,
and eat some more.
Catch the mail.
Write a pome.
Good day:
good away, good at home.
110105
FLURRY OF HURRY
Flit-flit-flit;
I’m in a tizzy—
not a state of zen!
But it’s nice
to be so busy—
every now and then!
110104
COOL CATS
Winter cold gives no pause
when outdoor freedom beats cold paws;
“Let us out!” our cats insist.
Icy blasts don’t deter
those brisk excursions they prefer
(and, in truth, cannot resist).
110103
HOW I SEES IT
Once agin, I awake
to butt of cat in my face.
Cat don’t mean to offend.
Naw, an' mine's the “livin’ end!”
110102
APPLICANT (for Hermann)
With a wink,
I will state
if I’m asked:
I can think,
I can wait,
I can fast.
[ASIDE: Siddhartha's résumé.]
* * *
110121
DIABETES AND YOU (for Jaime)
Diabetes comes from DNA
and from the way you work and play.
Diabetes comes from what you eat,
especially food too fat or sweet.
Diabetes makes you drink and pee,
plus, it affects how well you see.
It makes you tired, it numbs your feet.
Let's make this sickness obsolete.
Do not be a diabete!
[ASIDE: Jaime made a presentation on diabetes
and footcare to our Lions Club.]
110120
COFFEE PRE-JUNKIE (for Lizzie)
Medicate your head?
Why do what you will rue
and later struggle to undo?
Meditate instead.
110119
PLEASE EXPLAIN
Who is this person who,
in photos and in mirrors,
looks pillowy, marshmallowy,
and billowy, but who,
inside, feels willowy?
110118
THE EVERYDAY VARIETY
For better or for worse,
I make and fill my own thirst;
when I want a poem, I write a verse,
and—best of all—get to read it first!
DEMISE SURPRISE (for Sargent)
Someone just died
at age ninety-five.
People keep dying
not known still alive.
110117
WINTER WAKING
Winter-haze tonal grays
can make moon-sky
bright as noon-sky
and early wakers wonder
whether morning
is coming or glowing.
110116
DRAFT HORSE
I’m workin’ on
a long, long pome;
plowin’ long and steady.
It’s gonna be
a hard, hard pome;
I’m tired of it already.
A BOUT
Clouds out-crowd.
Clouds attack.
Sun’s uncowed by bully clouds—
through a crack, it slips back.
Then it puts those clouds to rout.
Sun is back.
Sun is out.
How does this come about?
Sun, no doubt, has more clout.
110115
EMBRACING THE SHADOW
[ASIDE: Under construction. This long poem
will take a while to complete and edit.]
110114
PROGRESSION
Winter is kind,
and ever more bright;
as she suspends heat,
she extends light.
OFFSPRING
You greased it, eased it,
cursed, birthed, and nursed it.
You raised it, praised it,
groomed it, pruned it.
You composed, concocted,
and spun it;
and it looks so easy
once you've done it.
110113
WHEN?
Bundled up
one way or another
season after season
people are waiting
people are holding in;
bundled up
one way or another
season after season
bundled up as babies
people are holding on
looking to each other
each waiting for the other
waiting for release
bundled up and waiting
waiting for a reason
or just for an excuse.
110112
WINTER BLISS (for Connie)
Perfectly
simple serenity:
me on bed
in sunlight spotlight;
cat on me.
110111
BLIND REFLECTIONS
Emma dear, Emma wise—
what’s inside those Emma eyes?
I see, in them, myself reflected
but mine are not, to you, a mirror.
I see in yours myself reflecting
why mine are not, for you, a mirror.
Emma dear, Emma wise—
what’s inside your Emma eyes?
110110
POETRY
Not the words but the way;
no specific thing you say.
It’s the truth told by the lie,
the do not know that answers why.
110109
BEAUTY MARKS
A few of the nuns
(let's not say which ones)
had—let us say—
facial blemishes
which, in any case,
they bore with good grace,
helping us know
what God cherishes.
MOMENTOUS
In this now,
my struggle’s
through.
World, …I am
at peace with you.
OBIT
Poet:
probed deeply,
wrote long,
reportedly died of
stub wounds.
WEB OF DECEIT
E-linked, business-network friends
keep recommending further friends,
but to claim these, one must state
form of relationship to date.
For the terms sites recommend
(classmate/colleague/client/friend),
how to answer is hard to guess—
there’s no sort of, just no or yes—
and these implied acquaintanceships
foster false pre-lationships.
110108
SLEEP-IN
I wake today
when the birds untree
and rise to flock.
I wake to the sun
and not to the clock.
BRIEF SANCTUARY
They’re our cats
but we root for the mice,
one of which
was discovered today
dried and flattened
under an out-of-the-way rug.
Poor baby is now a mummy.
110107
ISP’S
Once the computer
was an extension of us;
now that’s vice versa…
and it keeps getting
wersa and wersa.
110106
GOOD DAY
Up, groom, eat,
then out the door.
Drive, arrive, work, drive,
and eat some more.
Catch the mail.
Write a pome.
Good day:
good away, good at home.
110105
FLURRY OF HURRY
Flit-flit-flit;
I’m in a tizzy—
not a state of zen!
But it’s nice
to be so busy—
every now and then!
110104
COOL CATS
Winter cold gives no pause
when outdoor freedom beats cold paws;
“Let us out!” our cats insist.
Icy blasts don’t deter
those brisk excursions they prefer
(and, in truth, cannot resist).
110103
HOW I SEES IT
Once agin, I awake
to butt of cat in my face.
Cat don’t mean to offend.
Naw, an' mine's the “livin’ end!”
110102
APPLICANT (for Hermann)
With a wink,
I will state
if I’m asked:
I can think,
I can wait,
I can fast.
[ASIDE: Siddhartha's résumé.]
* * *
Monday, December 6, 2010
Pets and Predicaments
* * *
101118
COUNTER POINT
"Tick-tock," goes the clock
that hangs on the wall.
"Tock-tick," claims another
just down the hall.
"Ding-dong, both wrong!"
a third chimes in.
"I am music; you're just din."
101117
ESCAPEES
There's a mouse in the house,
I suspect—just look how
this bedroom is wrecked.
A chipmunk’s misplaced—
this I know—brought in by the cat.
Where'd it go?
101116
COUNTING THE MINUTES
Muse, it's 5:19 a.m.
That's awfully late.
Was I stood up?
I thought we had a date.
101115
PERCHANCE TO DREAM
Things get precious,
just by being rare—
like that thing that knits
the raveled sleeve of care.
101114
MEDITATION
DIRECTIONS
“Breathe—slow—in,
through the nose,
to a count of seven;
hold another count,
then let it out—
through the mouth—
at that same pace.”
(Then pass out?
Nothing was given
about when
to breathe again.)
101113
LOVE TAKES A TOLL (for Emma)
A year of your pet's life
equals seven of yours.
(About.)
(Depending.)
Life with a cat or dog
(a typical choice)
can be heart-rending
as it grows up—
for how it acts up
and what it gets into.
On a cat, you cain't
impose restraint
or, on a cur, a curfew.
Pets take a toll.
This formula occurs:
For every year of your pet’s life,
take off one of yours.
101112
DOUBLE DOWN
I thought “depressed”
meant sad and bad,
but now I know—
it just means low
and oh… so… slow.
101111
QUESTIONS
OF TALENT
Did I—do I—
have a gift?
Did I lose it?
Am I hiding it
even from myself?
101110
IN POEM COUNTRY
Up with the chickens,
then up with the owls;
I’m not one
to throw in the towel.
A poem is something
to not postpone;
I could write ‘em
till the cows come home.
101109
SIMPLE MINDED
You are there.
I am not.
That's the thought
I just thought.
101108
SORCERER’S APPRENTICE
Leonard Cohen, for a poem,
used a book of rhymes.
I use one for mine; that’s the scoop.
Here’s my favorite group:
aquatic, chaotic, despotic,
erotic, exotic, hypnotic,
narcotic, neurotic,
psychotic, quixotic, robotic
Building blocks, rhyme-words are—
keys-and-locks, gears for clocks,
ingredients for a cake;
myriad combinations
for myriad things to make—
including exotic spells to cast
and chaotic spells to break.
101107
IT WASN’T MUCH
“A walk in the park,”
that’s what they say—
and that’s what it was:
an easy cliché.
It wasn’t much—
nothing arduous,
explosive or clutched;
nothing that transcends.
It wasn’t much—
a casual outing
by two casual friends.
It wasn't much—
before our fingers touched.
101106
HEY, SANTA! (for Trevor)
This, for you,
should be a breeze—
put brake pads
in my stocking, please.
101105
I GIVE UP
Clothes, money, attention,
opinions, encouragement, advice,
aggravation…
It doesn’t seem to matter;
no matter what I give,
I get more than double in return.
What gives?
101104
EMPATHY NO MORE
I know you’re
upset about something
and I know you want me
to get upset along with you.
But I don’t want to.
Getting upset
makes me upset.
101103
OPERATIONAL LIMITS
Medicine, what is your tonic,
your remedy for grief?
What can you offer as relief
for pain, intense and chronic,
in bodies already half-bionic?
101102
CLOCKING OUT
Summer birds are seen no more;
sky is emptiness galore;
northern winds grow whippy;
days turn short and nippy;
jewel-toned leaves
that crowned the trees
have browned or blown away—
the year is calling it a day.
101101
BARGAINING WITH MY CAT
“Give me some inspiration,
Scout—to write about;
I’m in the mood.”
“Hmm. Well, don’t be rude;
give me something in return.
I’m in the mood for food.”
* * *
101118
COUNTER POINT
"Tick-tock," goes the clock
that hangs on the wall.
"Tock-tick," claims another
just down the hall.
"Ding-dong, both wrong!"
a third chimes in.
"I am music; you're just din."
101117
ESCAPEES
There's a mouse in the house,
I suspect—just look how
this bedroom is wrecked.
A chipmunk’s misplaced—
this I know—brought in by the cat.
Where'd it go?
101116
COUNTING THE MINUTES
Muse, it's 5:19 a.m.
That's awfully late.
Was I stood up?
I thought we had a date.
101115
PERCHANCE TO DREAM
Things get precious,
just by being rare—
like that thing that knits
the raveled sleeve of care.
101114
MEDITATION
DIRECTIONS
“Breathe—slow—in,
through the nose,
to a count of seven;
hold another count,
then let it out—
through the mouth—
at that same pace.”
(Then pass out?
Nothing was given
about when
to breathe again.)
101113
LOVE TAKES A TOLL (for Emma)
A year of your pet's life
equals seven of yours.
(About.)
(Depending.)
Life with a cat or dog
(a typical choice)
can be heart-rending
as it grows up—
for how it acts up
and what it gets into.
On a cat, you cain't
impose restraint
or, on a cur, a curfew.
Pets take a toll.
This formula occurs:
For every year of your pet’s life,
take off one of yours.
101112
DOUBLE DOWN
I thought “depressed”
meant sad and bad,
but now I know—
it just means low
and oh… so… slow.
101111
QUESTIONS
OF TALENT
Did I—do I—
have a gift?
Did I lose it?
Am I hiding it
even from myself?
101110
IN POEM COUNTRY
Up with the chickens,
then up with the owls;
I’m not one
to throw in the towel.
A poem is something
to not postpone;
I could write ‘em
till the cows come home.
101109
SIMPLE MINDED
You are there.
I am not.
That's the thought
I just thought.
101108
SORCERER’S APPRENTICE
Leonard Cohen, for a poem,
used a book of rhymes.
I use one for mine; that’s the scoop.
Here’s my favorite group:
aquatic, chaotic, despotic,
erotic, exotic, hypnotic,
narcotic, neurotic,
psychotic, quixotic, robotic
Building blocks, rhyme-words are—
keys-and-locks, gears for clocks,
ingredients for a cake;
myriad combinations
for myriad things to make—
including exotic spells to cast
and chaotic spells to break.
101107
IT WASN’T MUCH
“A walk in the park,”
that’s what they say—
and that’s what it was:
an easy cliché.
It wasn’t much—
nothing arduous,
explosive or clutched;
nothing that transcends.
It wasn’t much—
a casual outing
by two casual friends.
It wasn't much—
before our fingers touched.
101106
HEY, SANTA! (for Trevor)
This, for you,
should be a breeze—
put brake pads
in my stocking, please.
101105
I GIVE UP
Clothes, money, attention,
opinions, encouragement, advice,
aggravation…
It doesn’t seem to matter;
no matter what I give,
I get more than double in return.
What gives?
101104
EMPATHY NO MORE
I know you’re
upset about something
and I know you want me
to get upset along with you.
But I don’t want to.
Getting upset
makes me upset.
101103
OPERATIONAL LIMITS
Medicine, what is your tonic,
your remedy for grief?
What can you offer as relief
for pain, intense and chronic,
in bodies already half-bionic?
101102
CLOCKING OUT
Summer birds are seen no more;
sky is emptiness galore;
northern winds grow whippy;
days turn short and nippy;
jewel-toned leaves
that crowned the trees
have browned or blown away—
the year is calling it a day.
101101
BARGAINING WITH MY CAT
“Give me some inspiration,
Scout—to write about;
I’m in the mood.”
“Hmm. Well, don’t be rude;
give me something in return.
I’m in the mood for food.”
* * *
Monday, November 1, 2010
Fear and/or Sanity
* * *
101031
CUED TO FOOD
Am I hungry? Am I not?
How to tell, I forgot.
I eat on cue (from them, me, you).
Sometimes the cue is them, me, you.
I eat whenever prompted to.
Can there be a way not to?
101030
FRIEND OF A FRIEND
(for Andy)
Zounds,
the man does astound!
Happy birthday,
Ezra Pound.
FEAR AND/
OR SANITY
All is well on the Mall
(here as well—all, all, all).
101029
OPEN GATE
The you
that you are meant to be
is now— at least, can be.
It’s not too late;
why wait?
LET GO
I had a job but it got zapped
and now my energy is sapped.
I feel so tired, but not from toil—
more like a frog that’s slowly boiled.
STRENUOUS DREAMS
Each morning begins
as a wake-up, an emergence,
a recovery from dream-trials
of the night—
trials of exploration,
trials of evaluation,
trials of endurance.
Each morning begins
as an achievement.
101028
NEWLY BEFRIENDED
(Poems through my left hand.)
Let me be your poet.
Let me write your words.
Let me change your heart to sky
and all your thoughts to birds.
* * *
Tell you what…
let’s be friends.
Life is play
that never ends.
* * *
My way
is
the high way.
* * *
Here’s what
every finger knows:
the heavy work
is done by toes.
* * *
Sleep is what
a body needs.
"Sleep!" is what
this body pleads.
* * *
Cat on bed—
be careful, please!
Some cats sleep.
This one pees.
* * *
Oh, me. Oh, my!
Oh, my. Oh me!
She came with the name
Sweet Trouble,
but should be called
Sweet Pee.
[ASIDE: Written with my left hand
in a befriend-your-body exercise.
The premise is that doing so improves
contact with the creative right side of the brain.
Also, Emma-cat has begun to think the bed is her
new pee-place, freshly laundered after every use.]
101027
OH, GOOD NIGHT!
“Bats in the belfy,
worms in the books,”
somebody said.
“Bugs in the bed!”
“Rent the belfry.
Lease the books,”
another said.
“But—oh, good night!—
don’t let the bed;
bugs bite!”
101026
EMPTY EYES
How we hurry—
how unwise—
with unfilled hungers,
empty eyes.
101025
VOIDED
What I take up,
I set down.
What takes me up
sets me down.
That is the cycle.
I am handmaiden
to nothing.
[ASIDE: I’d just listened to a TED talk by Elisabeth Gilbert
on creativity and decided to loan this time/space/venue
to my daemon/genius/muse: “Here, say something.”]
101024
SLOW STARTER
Sunday
is my lazy day
(more so than the others).
The best part
is to read in bed
(or just stay under covers).
101023
FOREVER FUTURE
Two futures
are furiously unfurling:
bliss and misery.
Two futures
are furiously unfurling,
or seem to be, eternally.
101022
COCOA CAMO
Hi, Mom, where ya been?
I been hidin’. Look, it’s me!
Wanna lick my cheek or chin?
I been busy—come an’ see.
[ASIDE: Written in response to an on-line photo challenge.]
101031
CUED TO FOOD
Am I hungry? Am I not?
How to tell, I forgot.
I eat on cue (from them, me, you).
Sometimes the cue is them, me, you.
I eat whenever prompted to.
Can there be a way not to?
101030
FRIEND OF A FRIEND
(for Andy)
Zounds,
the man does astound!
Happy birthday,
Ezra Pound.
FEAR AND/
OR SANITY
All is well on the Mall
(here as well—all, all, all).
101029
OPEN GATE
The you
that you are meant to be
is now— at least, can be.
It’s not too late;
why wait?
LET GO
I had a job but it got zapped
and now my energy is sapped.
I feel so tired, but not from toil—
more like a frog that’s slowly boiled.
STRENUOUS DREAMS
Each morning begins
as a wake-up, an emergence,
a recovery from dream-trials
of the night—
trials of exploration,
trials of evaluation,
trials of endurance.
Each morning begins
as an achievement.
101028
NEWLY BEFRIENDED
(Poems through my left hand.)
Let me be your poet.
Let me write your words.
Let me change your heart to sky
and all your thoughts to birds.
* * *
Tell you what…
let’s be friends.
Life is play
that never ends.
* * *
My way
is
the high way.
* * *
Here’s what
every finger knows:
the heavy work
is done by toes.
* * *
Sleep is what
a body needs.
"Sleep!" is what
this body pleads.
* * *
Cat on bed—
be careful, please!
Some cats sleep.
This one pees.
* * *
Oh, me. Oh, my!
Oh, my. Oh me!
She came with the name
Sweet Trouble,
but should be called
Sweet Pee.
[ASIDE: Written with my left hand
in a befriend-your-body exercise.
The premise is that doing so improves
contact with the creative right side of the brain.
Also, Emma-cat has begun to think the bed is her
new pee-place, freshly laundered after every use.]
101027
OH, GOOD NIGHT!
“Bats in the belfy,
worms in the books,”
somebody said.
“Bugs in the bed!”
“Rent the belfry.
Lease the books,”
another said.
“But—oh, good night!—
don’t let the bed;
bugs bite!”
101026
EMPTY EYES
How we hurry—
how unwise—
with unfilled hungers,
empty eyes.
101025
VOIDED
What I take up,
I set down.
What takes me up
sets me down.
That is the cycle.
I am handmaiden
to nothing.
[ASIDE: I’d just listened to a TED talk by Elisabeth Gilbert
on creativity and decided to loan this time/space/venue
to my daemon/genius/muse: “Here, say something.”]
101024
SLOW STARTER
Sunday
is my lazy day
(more so than the others).
The best part
is to read in bed
(or just stay under covers).
101023
FOREVER FUTURE
Two futures
are furiously unfurling:
bliss and misery.
Two futures
are furiously unfurling,
or seem to be, eternally.
101022
COCOA CAMO
Hi, Mom, where ya been?
I been hidin’. Look, it’s me!
Wanna lick my cheek or chin?
I been busy—come an’ see.
[ASIDE: Written in response to an on-line photo challenge.]
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Waiting, Thinking, Being
* * *
100912
LADY IN WAITING
Life becomes—as I grow old—
not too tame, not too bold;
not too hot, not too cold.
I’m holding onto a life on hold.
100911
FÊTE ACCOMPLI (for Brent and Lizzie)
Groom and bride
became husband and wife.
For family, friends, and community,
it was all a wedding should be—
a celebration of connection,
an affirmation of love and life.
100910
STILL NOT SURE
I’m not sure why.
I’m not sure how.
I got a job, a car, a mate,
a house to clean and decorate.
Meow, meow,
I got a cat.
I did all that.
Now it’s late.
What do I do now?
100909
NIGHTLY NOOSE
The world is dying.
What can I do?
The media says
I’m dying too.
100908
INTUIT INTO IT
Let me give you
some advice:
don’t think once,
much less twice.
100907
PARCHED
What's that sound,
I hope and wonder—
the approach of
distant thunder?
100906
MORNING MISSED
A sad morning.
The cat who always
escorts our
newspaper retrieval at dawn—
the cat who always
comes when called—
did not escort,
did not come.
Always is not
always always—
at least, is no longer,
which explains how
a sad morning gave way
to a happy afternoon.
100905
SAID AT SUNSET
Please teach me.
Teach you what?
What I need to know.
Why do you need to know?
Hmmm.
Please teach me that.
100904
DAYS DAZED
Time to do,
but little action—
lost my way,
my bearings,
traction.
100903
SYSTEMS ERROR
The downturn
will upturn,
the entrepreneur advisor
advises.
Be ready:
millions, billions
can be made
on one well-made trade.
Well,
why is it well
for any
to take so much
from so many?
100902
CHARMING
At one neighbor house
they quit feeding their pets,
leaving two mama cats
and three kittens to survive
or starve on their own.
Another neighbor
took up the slack.
Three of the cats
(two of them, babies)
have no tails—
he calls them minxes.
100901
SLOW PAY
Work,
no work,
work again.
Money,
no money,
money—
but when?
* * *
100912
LADY IN WAITING
Life becomes—as I grow old—
not too tame, not too bold;
not too hot, not too cold.
I’m holding onto a life on hold.
100911
FÊTE ACCOMPLI (for Brent and Lizzie)
Groom and bride
became husband and wife.
For family, friends, and community,
it was all a wedding should be—
a celebration of connection,
an affirmation of love and life.
100910
STILL NOT SURE
I’m not sure why.
I’m not sure how.
I got a job, a car, a mate,
a house to clean and decorate.
Meow, meow,
I got a cat.
I did all that.
Now it’s late.
What do I do now?
100909
NIGHTLY NOOSE
The world is dying.
What can I do?
The media says
I’m dying too.
100908
INTUIT INTO IT
Let me give you
some advice:
don’t think once,
much less twice.
100907
PARCHED
What's that sound,
I hope and wonder—
the approach of
distant thunder?
100906
MORNING MISSED
A sad morning.
The cat who always
escorts our
newspaper retrieval at dawn—
the cat who always
comes when called—
did not escort,
did not come.
Always is not
always always—
at least, is no longer,
which explains how
a sad morning gave way
to a happy afternoon.
100905
SAID AT SUNSET
Please teach me.
Teach you what?
What I need to know.
Why do you need to know?
Hmmm.
Please teach me that.
100904
DAYS DAZED
Time to do,
but little action—
lost my way,
my bearings,
traction.
100903
SYSTEMS ERROR
The downturn
will upturn,
the entrepreneur advisor
advises.
Be ready:
millions, billions
can be made
on one well-made trade.
Well,
why is it well
for any
to take so much
from so many?
100902
CHARMING
At one neighbor house
they quit feeding their pets,
leaving two mama cats
and three kittens to survive
or starve on their own.
Another neighbor
took up the slack.
Three of the cats
(two of them, babies)
have no tails—
he calls them minxes.
100901
SLOW PAY
Work,
no work,
work again.
Money,
no money,
money—
but when?
* * *
Friday, June 25, 2010
Stress, Distress, De-stress
* * *
100625
CAT SPAT
And then there was the day
the neighborhood white stray
chased Emma on the deck.
She fought and squealed like heck
as I came running.
The stray took off, but what a scare!
Gray-fluff fur was everywhere,
but not one sign of blood;
that, at least, was good.
By luck or cunning,
Emma’d located a nook
from which to fight. I took
her in my arms and nearly wept;
she had started purring. Then she slept,
and then went back outside—
my blind battler, and my pride.
100624
AFTERNOON AFTER
To bed at four.
Awake at ten
to write this pome
then sleep again.
100623
SKYLIGHT
Today at dawn
I shut the blinds,
then was surprised
to wake and find
the room so bright;
I’d been sleeping
in the light.
NOT ALARMED
Except for skylight,
I would still
be sleeping.
WRITING IT OUT
Perplexed.
Panicked.
Inadequate.
Whatever my biology,
whatever my upbringing,
whatever my adaptations,
hurry reverts me
to juvenile feelings:
Not good enough.
Don’t know enough.
Don’t know enough
to get it right,
or, even, just to get it.
Can’t think.
Can’t think.
Can’t think.
Can’t remember
enough or fast enough.
And didn’t write it down.
What is the proper sacrifice
to hurry? In the work of writing,
if my strengths are my weakness,
do I become stronger by weakening?
Where is the center,
the balance point?
How much can balance?
What is the point?
100622
UNFAMILIAR VOICES
Which birds were those,
the first of dawn,
serenading his departure?
100621
WAKE UP, WAKE UP!
What is this—
an exercise in depletion,
or simple self-deception?
—working ‘round the clock
designing training courses
on how to manage time
and keep a life in balance.
* * *
100625
CAT SPAT
And then there was the day
the neighborhood white stray
chased Emma on the deck.
She fought and squealed like heck
as I came running.
The stray took off, but what a scare!
Gray-fluff fur was everywhere,
but not one sign of blood;
that, at least, was good.
By luck or cunning,
Emma’d located a nook
from which to fight. I took
her in my arms and nearly wept;
she had started purring. Then she slept,
and then went back outside—
my blind battler, and my pride.
100624
AFTERNOON AFTER
To bed at four.
Awake at ten
to write this pome
then sleep again.
100623
SKYLIGHT
Today at dawn
I shut the blinds,
then was surprised
to wake and find
the room so bright;
I’d been sleeping
in the light.
NOT ALARMED
Except for skylight,
I would still
be sleeping.
WRITING IT OUT
Perplexed.
Panicked.
Inadequate.
Whatever my biology,
whatever my upbringing,
whatever my adaptations,
hurry reverts me
to juvenile feelings:
Not good enough.
Don’t know enough.
Don’t know enough
to get it right,
or, even, just to get it.
Can’t think.
Can’t think.
Can’t think.
Can’t remember
enough or fast enough.
And didn’t write it down.
What is the proper sacrifice
to hurry? In the work of writing,
if my strengths are my weakness,
do I become stronger by weakening?
Where is the center,
the balance point?
How much can balance?
What is the point?
100622
UNFAMILIAR VOICES
Which birds were those,
the first of dawn,
serenading his departure?
100621
WAKE UP, WAKE UP!
What is this—
an exercise in depletion,
or simple self-deception?
—working ‘round the clock
designing training courses
on how to manage time
and keep a life in balance.
* * *
Life, with Animals
* * *
100605
TIME OUT, ALREADY!
Foo, foo, foo! Foo and fudge!
Things go badly when we judge.
He’ll suggest, plead or nudge.
She’s entrenched; she won’t budge.
She is nursing some old grudge.
[ASIDE: Someone discussing WWI and WWII
mentioned “old grudges” (which take place
at many levels).]
100604
DUCK CALLS
“He’s a she,”
my brother announced.
So Buddy became Bootie—
appropriate for a duck’s physique,
we thought.
Quattro, on the other hand (or wing),
was so called for failure to flock
with the triplets, unnamed.
Now he’s part of a duo.
That’s how fairy tales end these days.
SOGGY SAGA
That title sounds trite.
The situation is not.
Three lives were lost overnight.
I feel responsible,
though no one is certain of the cause—
the stormy night?
snapping turtle or other predator?
waterlogging?
I was warned about waterlogging.
Today’s report from the pond
is that Bootie and Quattro
(duck and duckling)
spent the entire afternoon side by side,
making exploratory excursions on the pond.
If one duckling survived, why not four?
About this mystery,
investigations reveal nothing,
the only evidence being non-evidence.
The verdict, however, is clear:
humans are not in charge,
nor should they be.
WRITE NOW
Well,
here’s a chance
to go to bed early,
something I fancy
clearly and surely.
But,
there’s a spot
still blank on the page
and a poetic urge
that must be assuaged.
100603
BACK ON THE WAGON
The re-beginning
is the most important
part of the work.
INTERVENTION
When cats claw
or dogs are yappy,
when you’re feeling
sad or sappy—
with a lilt,
sing, “I feel crappy!”
Silliness induces happy.
100602
PEKINS: $4
Practically speaking,
our duck was an orphan,
and that would not do—
so nothing would do
but to purchase four
more ducks via Craigslist.
The price was a clue
to their size, but we were
clueless going in.
Turned out,
they were just old enough
for swimming, so we
turned them out at the pond.
Practically speaking,
our orphan duck became
an unexpectant mama.
Let’s see how she does.
100601
SAW DUST
That bumble-
sized bee
boring holes
in our home’s
fascia boards?
That would be
a wood bee.
[ASIDE: Also known as a carpenter bee.]
FRUIT
ENROUTE
Went out
walking
today,
thoughtless,
like a
sleepwalker.
Returned,
empty-handed,
but with a
mulberry
aftertaste.
SKIN THAT ONE, PILGRIM,
AND I’LL GITCHA ANOTHER
Bless me,
but it’s been a while,
this turn at life—
each turn of dial,
each turn of stile,
each trip down aisle,
each phase, each style.
Mercy,
but it’s been a while!
[ASIDE: A sometimes yearning for
a fresh start or reset button.]
100531
SINGLE WHITE FEMALE
Neighbors got involved.
Long story short:
duck is now ensconced
on my brother’s farm and pond.
Efforts are underway
to secure suitable companionship.
DOUBLE TROUBLE
Mattress pad, comforter (placed
underneath the sheets in summer),
fitted sheet, upper sheet, bedspread
(actually, a heavy decorative sheet)—
all of these were run through the laundry
twice today.
A certain feline someone
has developed a bad habit.
Before we named her Emma,
she was called Sweet Trouble.
* * *
100605
TIME OUT, ALREADY!
Foo, foo, foo! Foo and fudge!
Things go badly when we judge.
He’ll suggest, plead or nudge.
She’s entrenched; she won’t budge.
She is nursing some old grudge.
[ASIDE: Someone discussing WWI and WWII
mentioned “old grudges” (which take place
at many levels).]
100604
DUCK CALLS
“He’s a she,”
my brother announced.
So Buddy became Bootie—
appropriate for a duck’s physique,
we thought.
Quattro, on the other hand (or wing),
was so called for failure to flock
with the triplets, unnamed.
Now he’s part of a duo.
That’s how fairy tales end these days.
SOGGY SAGA
That title sounds trite.
The situation is not.
Three lives were lost overnight.
I feel responsible,
though no one is certain of the cause—
the stormy night?
snapping turtle or other predator?
waterlogging?
I was warned about waterlogging.
Today’s report from the pond
is that Bootie and Quattro
(duck and duckling)
spent the entire afternoon side by side,
making exploratory excursions on the pond.
If one duckling survived, why not four?
About this mystery,
investigations reveal nothing,
the only evidence being non-evidence.
The verdict, however, is clear:
humans are not in charge,
nor should they be.
WRITE NOW
Well,
here’s a chance
to go to bed early,
something I fancy
clearly and surely.
But,
there’s a spot
still blank on the page
and a poetic urge
that must be assuaged.
100603
BACK ON THE WAGON
The re-beginning
is the most important
part of the work.
INTERVENTION
When cats claw
or dogs are yappy,
when you’re feeling
sad or sappy—
with a lilt,
sing, “I feel crappy!”
Silliness induces happy.
100602
PEKINS: $4
Practically speaking,
our duck was an orphan,
and that would not do—
so nothing would do
but to purchase four
more ducks via Craigslist.
The price was a clue
to their size, but we were
clueless going in.
Turned out,
they were just old enough
for swimming, so we
turned them out at the pond.
Practically speaking,
our orphan duck became
an unexpectant mama.
Let’s see how she does.
100601
SAW DUST
That bumble-
sized bee
boring holes
in our home’s
fascia boards?
That would be
a wood bee.
[ASIDE: Also known as a carpenter bee.]
FRUIT
ENROUTE
Went out
walking
today,
thoughtless,
like a
sleepwalker.
Returned,
empty-handed,
but with a
mulberry
aftertaste.
SKIN THAT ONE, PILGRIM,
AND I’LL GITCHA ANOTHER
Bless me,
but it’s been a while,
this turn at life—
each turn of dial,
each turn of stile,
each trip down aisle,
each phase, each style.
Mercy,
but it’s been a while!
[ASIDE: A sometimes yearning for
a fresh start or reset button.]
100531
SINGLE WHITE FEMALE
Neighbors got involved.
Long story short:
duck is now ensconced
on my brother’s farm and pond.
Efforts are underway
to secure suitable companionship.
DOUBLE TROUBLE
Mattress pad, comforter (placed
underneath the sheets in summer),
fitted sheet, upper sheet, bedspread
(actually, a heavy decorative sheet)—
all of these were run through the laundry
twice today.
A certain feline someone
has developed a bad habit.
Before we named her Emma,
she was called Sweet Trouble.
* * *
Monday, May 3, 2010
Cheese and Crackers
* * *
100503
RETICENT
The neighbor’s garden
is at my disposal.
I feel richer in what I don’t take
than in what I do.
Is there a cure for this?
LITTLE HOLES
When the bread has little holes
and hasn’t been soaked overnight,
I dip each slice quickly and put it
in the pan. Then I spoon-feed the
excess egg mixture slowly and gently
over the pores of its upper surface.
By the time I’m done spooning, it’s
ready to be flipped anyway. Some-
times fleshing out a poem is like that:
lingering attentively, filling in gaps.
100502
NATURE WALK NATURE
I do the thing
to be alone;
to think, or not;
and, as I roam,
to breathe fresh air—
breathe freely too.
What will change,
if I’m with you?
[ASIDE: The syntax is wrong,
but I don't like "What would change"
or "when I'm with."]
100501
ENABLER
When your cat pees
on your bed or rug,
you clean things up.
What else can you do?
Then your cat pees
(uncontrite and smug)
in that same place
the moment that you’re through.
100430
[CHALLENGE POEMS]
Take a newspaper article and black out words
to leave a coherent poem of the remaining words
in their original sequence. I tried this twice.
GRANDMOTHERS
The author said,
"I fell wildly in love with this child."
Completely unprepared for this new role,
she made plans to write a memoir
of not just her own experience
but those of other writers;
all the hidden pleasures and perils
of being a grandmother.
She wanted it to be true,
convinced that all baby boomers
are traveling in uncharted waters
as grandparents.
If there's anything she's learned,
it's this: "You need to be supportive
and keep your mouth shut."
NEW ROLE
Author speaks Sunday
about her reaction
to the birth of her first granddaughter.
"Completely unprepared,
heartbroken, furious, devastated."
Asked to write an essay
about being a grandparent,
she didn't change names or anything.
"It provoked feelings in me,
not all of them charitable.
There's something scary
about being a grandparent."
Copies will be available for purchase
at the Sunday event.
100429
P.M. POEM
Are you that overwhelmed?
Has it lost its allure?
(A near-midnight start
for this pome du jour.)
100428
HEALTH-FOOD SLACKERS
Cheese and crackers,
cheese and crackers,
cheese and cheese,
and cheese and crackers.
Fruits and veggies have no backers
in this house of cheese and crackers;
have no home among these slackers.
100427
EVERYDAY POET
even I
of privileged
eye
often fail
to see:
the ease
the deep
the friendly
of the common
100426
TEXAS SPICE
Poorly-painted red words
on poorly-painted white boards
advertise a roadside stand:
"jams" "jellies" "peaches" "tomatoes"
The largest sign recommends:
"RELISH"
"SALSA"
Thanks to a stint in Texas, I do.
[ASIDE: On this one, Fay Jean Royce commented:
"An Arkie lass with Texas sass!"]
100425
THINGS
In your vicinity,
at your approach,
things shift.
If alert,
you may notice
a flutter of wings,
a scurrying,
a sudden splash.
Further ahead,
the more sensitive,
shy, and subtle
have already taken
their leave, leaving only
a toe-track,
a scent,
a broken twig.
Further yet,
other things—possibly—
disappear so quickly
and thoroughly
we don’t even suspect
they exist.
100424
NO ACCOUNT
What have I really done
for this world;
what have I really done?
Whom have I saved or salved
in this world;
whom, when, why—
and what from?
100423
GOING TO POT-BELLY
“Do you think your skin
holds your innards in?”
“Fat chance it does—
because my face has turned to scowls and jowls;
because each thigh’s the size my waist once was;
because my upper arms (once like a girl’s)
now flap just like a flying squirrel’s.
Do I think my skin
holds my innards in?
Not one bit, because—
I have witnessed tears and boobies drop.
Plus, my belly slops over undie tops.”
100422
AMEN TO THAT
As I take this food, I choose:
health, delight, and gratitude.
100421
ATTENDANCE
Three;
three to learn.
One to teach.
One to observe;
one to learn
to teach.
* * *
100503
RETICENT
The neighbor’s garden
is at my disposal.
I feel richer in what I don’t take
than in what I do.
Is there a cure for this?
LITTLE HOLES
When the bread has little holes
and hasn’t been soaked overnight,
I dip each slice quickly and put it
in the pan. Then I spoon-feed the
excess egg mixture slowly and gently
over the pores of its upper surface.
By the time I’m done spooning, it’s
ready to be flipped anyway. Some-
times fleshing out a poem is like that:
lingering attentively, filling in gaps.
100502
NATURE WALK NATURE
I do the thing
to be alone;
to think, or not;
and, as I roam,
to breathe fresh air—
breathe freely too.
What will change,
if I’m with you?
[ASIDE: The syntax is wrong,
but I don't like "What would change"
or "when I'm with."]
100501
ENABLER
When your cat pees
on your bed or rug,
you clean things up.
What else can you do?
Then your cat pees
(uncontrite and smug)
in that same place
the moment that you’re through.
100430
[CHALLENGE POEMS]
Take a newspaper article and black out words
to leave a coherent poem of the remaining words
in their original sequence. I tried this twice.
GRANDMOTHERS
The author said,
"I fell wildly in love with this child."
Completely unprepared for this new role,
she made plans to write a memoir
of not just her own experience
but those of other writers;
all the hidden pleasures and perils
of being a grandmother.
She wanted it to be true,
convinced that all baby boomers
are traveling in uncharted waters
as grandparents.
If there's anything she's learned,
it's this: "You need to be supportive
and keep your mouth shut."
NEW ROLE
Author speaks Sunday
about her reaction
to the birth of her first granddaughter.
"Completely unprepared,
heartbroken, furious, devastated."
Asked to write an essay
about being a grandparent,
she didn't change names or anything.
"It provoked feelings in me,
not all of them charitable.
There's something scary
about being a grandparent."
Copies will be available for purchase
at the Sunday event.
100429
P.M. POEM
Are you that overwhelmed?
Has it lost its allure?
(A near-midnight start
for this pome du jour.)
100428
HEALTH-FOOD SLACKERS
Cheese and crackers,
cheese and crackers,
cheese and cheese,
and cheese and crackers.
Fruits and veggies have no backers
in this house of cheese and crackers;
have no home among these slackers.
100427
EVERYDAY POET
even I
of privileged
eye
often fail
to see:
the ease
the deep
the friendly
of the common
100426
TEXAS SPICE
Poorly-painted red words
on poorly-painted white boards
advertise a roadside stand:
"jams" "jellies" "peaches" "tomatoes"
The largest sign recommends:
"RELISH"
"SALSA"
Thanks to a stint in Texas, I do.
[ASIDE: On this one, Fay Jean Royce commented:
"An Arkie lass with Texas sass!"]
100425
THINGS
In your vicinity,
at your approach,
things shift.
If alert,
you may notice
a flutter of wings,
a scurrying,
a sudden splash.
Further ahead,
the more sensitive,
shy, and subtle
have already taken
their leave, leaving only
a toe-track,
a scent,
a broken twig.
Further yet,
other things—possibly—
disappear so quickly
and thoroughly
we don’t even suspect
they exist.
100424
NO ACCOUNT
What have I really done
for this world;
what have I really done?
Whom have I saved or salved
in this world;
whom, when, why—
and what from?
100423
GOING TO POT-BELLY
“Do you think your skin
holds your innards in?”
“Fat chance it does—
because my face has turned to scowls and jowls;
because each thigh’s the size my waist once was;
because my upper arms (once like a girl’s)
now flap just like a flying squirrel’s.
Do I think my skin
holds my innards in?
Not one bit, because—
I have witnessed tears and boobies drop.
Plus, my belly slops over undie tops.”
100422
AMEN TO THAT
As I take this food, I choose:
health, delight, and gratitude.
100421
ATTENDANCE
Three;
three to learn.
One to teach.
One to observe;
one to learn
to teach.
* * *
Monday, February 1, 2010
Animals, Weather, Time
* * *
100131
ATTUNED
I love it when he whistles and laughs
and jokes with the cats;
their ears swivel to tune him in;
they climb onto his lap if it’s available;
they gently paw his face, stroke his cheek,
then settle in to ride the warm rhythms
of his chest. "More," they say. "More!"
100130
SNOW DAY
Deer braved the yard today,
where they cautiously fed.
Cats braved the snow for birds.
Birds braved the cats for bread.
100129
WEATHER
WISHERS
What?
You didn’t expect
more snow to fall?
Please.
It’s January,
after all!
100128
BLAST!
"Brace yourselves,"
weathercasters scold,
rhapsodizing over sleet and ice.
Hmmph. That isn't nice; it's cold!
100127
TIME PIECE
"Time flies," Eagle cries.
"Time flies," Frog sighs,
"snatchin’ you up like some bug
that its flickin’ tongue has tazed.
Oh. Time flays," croaks Frog, amazed.
"Time flays," Horse neighs.
"Time flows," Raven crows.
"Time flows," Bear knows,
"driftin’ us along with gentle dreams
of polar ice an’ siftin’ snow.
Ah. Time floes," sighs Bear, mid-doze.
"Time floes," Whale blows.
"Time flees," buzz Bees.
"Time flees," Dog breathes,
"bitin’ our hides to set us movin’,
then lightin’ out; that irritatin’ tease!
Ooh. Time fleas," Dog moans, aggrieved.
"Time fleas," Cat agrees.
[ASIDE: I wanted to leave out quotation marks because they
were so cumbersome and distracting, but that didn't work.]
100126
RELAXED FIT
“When you retire,” his buddies asked,
looking at him a bit askance,
“who, at your house, will wear the pants?”
“Myself,” he winked, with a cheerful glance.
“Of course, I’ll be wearing putter pants.”
100125
TWENTY-TWENTY
Best gift so far,
this twenty-ten—
contact lenses.
I see again!
100124
TOO LATE
I missed a meeting
I meant to attend;
there’s no way to regroup,
recoup, or amend.
100123
BUZZARDS
“Unclean!” they’re seen—
“Untouchable!
Gnarly-headed grotesques. Fearsome
Underlings. Awful offal-eaters.
Horrid things on wings!”
Of this, buzzards are oblivious—
as they are of praise from students
of their ways, who say, “It’s official.
Buzzards are good to us. Beneficial.”
They recycle and renew.
Like morticians, beauticians, mothers,
menials, and multitudes of others
(maintenance workers, trash collectors,
hazardous waste operators, plumbers,
and sanitation crews, to name a few)—
discretely and with daily diligence,
they efface life’s ugliness.
They lift in air like dreams.
For those with eyes to see—
such elegance, such grace!
100122
LOOKOUT
At my north-sky facing view,
two trapezoidal windows
show through to a vast expanse
of icy blue; slightly smudged
with gray and white. But—
not a single buzzard in sight.
100121
MEAT OR POISON
One man’s crumpet
is another man’s strumpet.
One woman’s jackpot
is another one’s crackpot.
[ASIDE: Just playing with words, which,
like old stereotypes and clichés, are also
one person’s meat and another’s poison.]
100120
WINTER THUNDER
Startling!
Like a midnight pounding at your door
in the secret-code cadence of a comrade.
SELF-EMANCIPATION
First you have to make it okay
with yourself to think about
what you might possibly want.
Then you have to decide that,
yes, it’s okay to actually want.
Next you allow yourself to
full-heartedly accept
wanted and waited-for things.
After that, permission to pursue
is a natural progression.
In fact, you stand self-revealed
as a natural progression.
100119
CHARM SCHOOLED
It’s hard enough to
charm life into beneficence
when you’re an ingénue;
much less, a nongénue.
ASPIRANT
As if either is a place,
somewhere between seven and seventy,
I got used to living. I expected to expect
every day another day, and every day
three square meals, slow or quick,
and all my blessings double-dipped.
Little plain-old mortal me
aspired to immortality: unending life,
and not just that—ease, abundance, health,
pleasing occupation, and an inside track
to bliss. It hasn’t happened—yet
I’m caught by the idea. First, I’ve heard,
you go through death and back
near-endless times. Or not.
* * *
100131
ATTUNED
I love it when he whistles and laughs
and jokes with the cats;
their ears swivel to tune him in;
they climb onto his lap if it’s available;
they gently paw his face, stroke his cheek,
then settle in to ride the warm rhythms
of his chest. "More," they say. "More!"
100130
SNOW DAY
Deer braved the yard today,
where they cautiously fed.
Cats braved the snow for birds.
Birds braved the cats for bread.
100129
WEATHER
WISHERS
What?
You didn’t expect
more snow to fall?
Please.
It’s January,
after all!
100128
BLAST!
"Brace yourselves,"
weathercasters scold,
rhapsodizing over sleet and ice.
Hmmph. That isn't nice; it's cold!
100127
TIME PIECE
"Time flies," Eagle cries.
"Time flies," Frog sighs,
"snatchin’ you up like some bug
that its flickin’ tongue has tazed.
Oh. Time flays," croaks Frog, amazed.
"Time flays," Horse neighs.
"Time flows," Raven crows.
"Time flows," Bear knows,
"driftin’ us along with gentle dreams
of polar ice an’ siftin’ snow.
Ah. Time floes," sighs Bear, mid-doze.
"Time floes," Whale blows.
"Time flees," buzz Bees.
"Time flees," Dog breathes,
"bitin’ our hides to set us movin’,
then lightin’ out; that irritatin’ tease!
Ooh. Time fleas," Dog moans, aggrieved.
"Time fleas," Cat agrees.
[ASIDE: I wanted to leave out quotation marks because they
were so cumbersome and distracting, but that didn't work.]
100126
RELAXED FIT
“When you retire,” his buddies asked,
looking at him a bit askance,
“who, at your house, will wear the pants?”
“Myself,” he winked, with a cheerful glance.
“Of course, I’ll be wearing putter pants.”
100125
TWENTY-TWENTY
Best gift so far,
this twenty-ten—
contact lenses.
I see again!
100124
TOO LATE
I missed a meeting
I meant to attend;
there’s no way to regroup,
recoup, or amend.
100123
BUZZARDS
“Unclean!” they’re seen—
“Untouchable!
Gnarly-headed grotesques. Fearsome
Underlings. Awful offal-eaters.
Horrid things on wings!”
Of this, buzzards are oblivious—
as they are of praise from students
of their ways, who say, “It’s official.
Buzzards are good to us. Beneficial.”
They recycle and renew.
Like morticians, beauticians, mothers,
menials, and multitudes of others
(maintenance workers, trash collectors,
hazardous waste operators, plumbers,
and sanitation crews, to name a few)—
discretely and with daily diligence,
they efface life’s ugliness.
They lift in air like dreams.
For those with eyes to see—
such elegance, such grace!
100122
LOOKOUT
At my north-sky facing view,
two trapezoidal windows
show through to a vast expanse
of icy blue; slightly smudged
with gray and white. But—
not a single buzzard in sight.
100121
MEAT OR POISON
One man’s crumpet
is another man’s strumpet.
One woman’s jackpot
is another one’s crackpot.
[ASIDE: Just playing with words, which,
like old stereotypes and clichés, are also
one person’s meat and another’s poison.]
100120
WINTER THUNDER
Startling!
Like a midnight pounding at your door
in the secret-code cadence of a comrade.
SELF-EMANCIPATION
First you have to make it okay
with yourself to think about
what you might possibly want.
Then you have to decide that,
yes, it’s okay to actually want.
Next you allow yourself to
full-heartedly accept
wanted and waited-for things.
After that, permission to pursue
is a natural progression.
In fact, you stand self-revealed
as a natural progression.
100119
CHARM SCHOOLED
It’s hard enough to
charm life into beneficence
when you’re an ingénue;
much less, a nongénue.
ASPIRANT
As if either is a place,
somewhere between seven and seventy,
I got used to living. I expected to expect
every day another day, and every day
three square meals, slow or quick,
and all my blessings double-dipped.
Little plain-old mortal me
aspired to immortality: unending life,
and not just that—ease, abundance, health,
pleasing occupation, and an inside track
to bliss. It hasn’t happened—yet
I’m caught by the idea. First, I’ve heard,
you go through death and back
near-endless times. Or not.
* * *
Friday, January 1, 2010
New Year Musings
* * *
100101
NEW-YEAR DAWN
Some suns
(of course, there’s only one)
appear
at start of day or year
so loud.
BOOM! quite bright
and rowdy.
I’m enamored of today’s
and proud.
It gently burned its way
through overlays
of cloud.
SECOND HELPINGS
A word’s a tool
to help you think,
and it has tools
like pen and ink.
A HOT NEW YEAR!
Party early! Party late!
Dance! Have fun!
January one—
New Year’s come.
Mama’s got a hot new date!
SOURCE MATERIAL
If I asked my muse
for a music score,
or novel, or sitcom script,
would she roar
with laughter
or fury—
then slam the door?
Maybe
she would kiss me.
All I know, so far,
is she gives me
what she gives me.
SENSITIVE
“Emma!”
I call to our blind kitty,
“It’s a new year—
can you tell?”
“Oh, Mom!”
her posture replies,
“I can’t even tell
if it’s a new day.”
For a split second,
I believe her.
(20)10: 01/01
This date
looks like
binary code:
100101.
So let me
make this
poem brief
(no ode):
“100101”
Okay, I’m done.
MUSE ENTHUSED
The Muse you choose—
No, it’s a mutual thing!
One’s the pong to the other’s ping.
Sometimes you’re carping
on your Muse’s ways.
Sometimes she’s harping
on your own delays.
Sometimes you’re waiting
at your Muse’s door.
Sometimes she’s pacing
your draft-strewn floor.
Be there for her, the Muse you choose.
You don’t want your Muse to snooze!
[ASIDE: Thank you, Muse, for nixing “ding-dong” as the
source of the word-pair in the third line of this poem.]
* * *
100101
NEW-YEAR DAWN
Some suns
(of course, there’s only one)
appear
at start of day or year
so loud.
BOOM! quite bright
and rowdy.
I’m enamored of today’s
and proud.
It gently burned its way
through overlays
of cloud.
SECOND HELPINGS
A word’s a tool
to help you think,
and it has tools
like pen and ink.
A HOT NEW YEAR!
Party early! Party late!
Dance! Have fun!
January one—
New Year’s come.
Mama’s got a hot new date!
SOURCE MATERIAL
If I asked my muse
for a music score,
or novel, or sitcom script,
would she roar
with laughter
or fury—
then slam the door?
Maybe
she would kiss me.
All I know, so far,
is she gives me
what she gives me.
SENSITIVE
“Emma!”
I call to our blind kitty,
“It’s a new year—
can you tell?”
“Oh, Mom!”
her posture replies,
“I can’t even tell
if it’s a new day.”
For a split second,
I believe her.
(20)10: 01/01
This date
looks like
binary code:
100101.
So let me
make this
poem brief
(no ode):
“100101”
Okay, I’m done.
MUSE ENTHUSED
The Muse you choose—
No, it’s a mutual thing!
One’s the pong to the other’s ping.
Sometimes you’re carping
on your Muse’s ways.
Sometimes she’s harping
on your own delays.
Sometimes you’re waiting
at your Muse’s door.
Sometimes she’s pacing
your draft-strewn floor.
Be there for her, the Muse you choose.
You don’t want your Muse to snooze!
[ASIDE: Thank you, Muse, for nixing “ding-dong” as the
source of the word-pair in the third line of this poem.]
* * *
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Winter and Aging
* * *
091220 (for Zach)
SNOW NAKED
Trees—
the elder
and the younger—
withdraw their energies
from these winter
silences and
furies.
091219
SURPRISE
Buzzard babies—
such a sight!
Who’d have thought
they fluff out white?
091218
IMMINENT DOMAIN
My chores were done,
and more to spare.
I headed for my easy chair.
Alas—the cat was sitting there!
“Forgive my breach of happy purrs,”
I told him, “but it’s time to stir.
So take my lap or I’ll take yours.”
091217
MUSE TO POET:
Yay! Hurray!
Oh, frabjous day!
You wanted a poem
joyful and snappy—
so, now are you happy?
BEYOND
After aftermath;
some nice surprise.
After all,
even winter dies.
091216
REMARKING TIME
For the unemployed,
meanings get reassigned:
- holiday/workday
- time on/time off
Vices become versas.
091215
NON SOM
Call it the “night bubble”—
that wide-awake, fret-tending time
between episodes of
sleep-it-under-the-rug.
Mind is a fitful child.
Might as well rise
and take care of it;
might as well walk the floors.
091214
AS LONG AS IT TAKES
Give me a word;
I'll give you a rhyme.
I'll give you a poem
if you have the time.
TOUCH OF THE DIVINE
Thank you, thank you,
powers that be,
for this human-inborn ability
to apprehend divinity!
091213
FUNNING ON EMPTY
"I'm in a bind," the poet whined.
"On my quota, I'm behind.
If there's a poem in my mind,
it's a poem I can't find."
091212
NOT OLD ENOUGH
I was born three-score
years ago, plus one.
And so, for Social Security
I'm too young.
For Medicare too; too young.
I'm sixty-one and I don't care.
I'm sixty-one; still young!
091211
DOWNSIZING
Goodbye,
right eye;
goodbye, left.
Farewell,
today's tooth;
tomorrow's.
Bone, muscle, skin—
your services;
suspend.
Goodbye,
dear body;
farewell, friend.
091210
WANDERERS, SQUANDERERS
Wasting, wasted, living lost lives
(barren, enervated, unenhanced),
we sleepwalk through paradise
oblivious, numb, self-entranced.
091209
GIFTED
Angelic?
Devilish?
Madness?
Sanity?
Gift of divinity:
our humanity.
091208
SHHHH
noise
annoys
091207
NOCTILUCID (For Rick)
Weatherman, we love you dearly.
You scan the skies day-month-yearly.
You’re a wizard.
You’re a wit:
"Behold that cloud, night-lit!
It’s more than cirrus merely;
it's noctilucent, clearly."
* * *
091220 (for Zach)
SNOW NAKED
Trees—
the elder
and the younger—
withdraw their energies
from these winter
silences and
furies.
091219
SURPRISE
Buzzard babies—
such a sight!
Who’d have thought
they fluff out white?
091218
IMMINENT DOMAIN
My chores were done,
and more to spare.
I headed for my easy chair.
Alas—the cat was sitting there!
“Forgive my breach of happy purrs,”
I told him, “but it’s time to stir.
So take my lap or I’ll take yours.”
091217
MUSE TO POET:
Yay! Hurray!
Oh, frabjous day!
You wanted a poem
joyful and snappy—
so, now are you happy?
BEYOND
After aftermath;
some nice surprise.
After all,
even winter dies.
091216
REMARKING TIME
For the unemployed,
meanings get reassigned:
- holiday/workday
- time on/time off
Vices become versas.
091215
NON SOM
Call it the “night bubble”—
that wide-awake, fret-tending time
between episodes of
sleep-it-under-the-rug.
Mind is a fitful child.
Might as well rise
and take care of it;
might as well walk the floors.
091214
AS LONG AS IT TAKES
Give me a word;
I'll give you a rhyme.
I'll give you a poem
if you have the time.
TOUCH OF THE DIVINE
Thank you, thank you,
powers that be,
for this human-inborn ability
to apprehend divinity!
091213
FUNNING ON EMPTY
"I'm in a bind," the poet whined.
"On my quota, I'm behind.
If there's a poem in my mind,
it's a poem I can't find."
091212
NOT OLD ENOUGH
I was born three-score
years ago, plus one.
And so, for Social Security
I'm too young.
For Medicare too; too young.
I'm sixty-one and I don't care.
I'm sixty-one; still young!
091211
DOWNSIZING
Goodbye,
right eye;
goodbye, left.
Farewell,
today's tooth;
tomorrow's.
Bone, muscle, skin—
your services;
suspend.
Goodbye,
dear body;
farewell, friend.
091210
WANDERERS, SQUANDERERS
Wasting, wasted, living lost lives
(barren, enervated, unenhanced),
we sleepwalk through paradise
oblivious, numb, self-entranced.
091209
GIFTED
Angelic?
Devilish?
Madness?
Sanity?
Gift of divinity:
our humanity.
091208
SHHHH
noise
annoys
091207
NOCTILUCID (For Rick)
Weatherman, we love you dearly.
You scan the skies day-month-yearly.
You’re a wizard.
You’re a wit:
"Behold that cloud, night-lit!
It’s more than cirrus merely;
it's noctilucent, clearly."
* * *
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