* * *
110210
OATMEAL AND BANANA (for Linda)
Though oatmeal was my daily manna
(just about) with nuts or fruit,
I'd never had it with banana...
Let me send you a salute!
ONE FINALIST, MANY DREAMS
All but one will falter; fall.
Yet all will give their all.
As we watch and learn and cheer,
we, too, gain victory… over fear.
NO END IN SIGHT
No end of snow
is seen, as yet;
this sky has so much in it.
To what heights
can this snow get?
It seems the sky’s the limit.
SNOW ON SNOW
Mother Winter
lays white linens
gently on each lawn,
then (as these spoil
from soot or soil)
more layers,
and so on.
110209
TOO BUSY TO
Well, why do you think
it’s called an occupation?
LIONS’ CLUB
CHRISTMAS CARD IDEA
Front:
Picture of lions
lying down with lambs.
Inside:
Lions smile hugely as they sing:
“All we like sheep!”
110208
AND MY POINT IS?
What use am I to anyone?
Whyever was I born?
From first morn, I went
subject to my own bent—
keen to become life-wise.
Now, my age is showing
(my demise)
and my synthesized wisdom
sounds strangely flat:
“Trust your inner knowing.”
But you knew that.
VALENTINE BOUQUETS
On scarcity of flowers,
there are no reports.
Are Columbian harvests
snowed out of airports?
110207
FLIP SIDE
Yesterday I felt lonely
for a kindred creative soul.
Today I think, “How lucky!
I’m self-entertained. I'm whole.”
GONE BANANAS
We’re in a state, a state of cold
colder than Montana…
we’re low on milk and eggs and bread,
and down to last banana.
Can’t shop... not lazy;
snowed in… near crazy.
Though we have colds, no cold relief;
we’re out of cold reliever…
our cabin’s cold, but we are not;
we’re hot with cabin fever.
110206
LION JOKE (from my Inner Child)
Q: Why did the lion cross the road?
A: [See below, but try to answer for yourself first.]
FOR STARTERS (for Mary and Clyde)
Thank you, Mother,
Thank you, Dad,
for taking care of me—
giving me a life-long sense
I’m loving, loved, and free.
VIGIL
Why don’t I want to go to bed?
Why don’t I want to sleep?
Something’s rising in my mind,
something buried deep.
LONELY MOOD
Some children
play with others
or with invisible friends.
I make do with no one.
Please,
someone make amends.
KID JOKE (from my Inner Child)
Q: Why did the lion cross the road?
A: To get to the other pride.
[ASIDE: This came via writing with my left hand.]
110205
DAWN’S EARLY LIGHT
Snowscapes turn
from pearl to peach
everywhere the sun can reach.
SEASONS APART
Winter spells are hard;
we know, because
we’ve fought ‘em.
It may be May
at top of stairs;
it’s January at bottom.
PRISM ESCAPE
Color
rainbows dark to fair—
but where? Midair?
In eye? In brain?
Out there?
110204
ICY HOT
Yestiddy (a snowy day),
my poe-min’ mighta chilled—
but, suprizinly, did not.
In fact, it went th’other way.
I wuz bizzy, I wuz thrilled—
O, hunny, I wuz hot!
* * *
Showing posts with label winter weather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label winter weather. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
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.
* * *
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Moods & Foods
* * *
100110
HAPPY MEAL
- Milk
- Bread
- P.B.
- Jelly
Such a friendly way
to fill a belly!
100109
CLICKETY CLACK
I got off track.
Somewhere back, I got off track.
Now I roam alone—alak!—
except for dog and stick and sack.
I make my home in any shack
and then move on, but never back.
Somewhere back, I got off track
100108
ICY HOT
It’s cold enough
without those icy blasts
whistled in
by various western winds
through various western windows.
Our log-home interior
stratifies by degrees;
to descend the stairs
is to descend the thermometer.
The cats beg for outdoor excursions,
but when offered an open door
they freeze mid-departure
and scramble back inside.
Human interactions
take an occasional chilly plunge,
paradoxically threatening conflagration.
This is the only sense in which
our cabin has a fever.
100107
MIXED BREW
Here’s the news,
fresh and hot—
tea plus coffee
does not equal toffee.
100106
EMPTY MIND
fingers and thoughts
suspended
over keyboard
* * *
100110
HAPPY MEAL
- Milk
- Bread
- P.B.
- Jelly
Such a friendly way
to fill a belly!
100109
CLICKETY CLACK
I got off track.
Somewhere back, I got off track.
Now I roam alone—alak!—
except for dog and stick and sack.
I make my home in any shack
and then move on, but never back.
Somewhere back, I got off track
100108
ICY HOT
It’s cold enough
without those icy blasts
whistled in
by various western winds
through various western windows.
Our log-home interior
stratifies by degrees;
to descend the stairs
is to descend the thermometer.
The cats beg for outdoor excursions,
but when offered an open door
they freeze mid-departure
and scramble back inside.
Human interactions
take an occasional chilly plunge,
paradoxically threatening conflagration.
This is the only sense in which
our cabin has a fever.
100107
MIXED BREW
Here’s the news,
fresh and hot—
tea plus coffee
does not equal toffee.
100106
EMPTY MIND
fingers and thoughts
suspended
over keyboard
* * *
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Winter Mix
* * *
100105
DEAR GOD!
I have this—but I want more;
I want that, with every pore.
I have things that I adore;
I have merchandise galore—
things in use and things in store—
but I want more, and more, and more.
Thanking? —Something I abhor.
Asking? —Even though it’s such chore,
once again, I implore,
“Please, Sir, may I have some more?”
[ASIDE: As I enjoyed a warm shower this morning,
I realized how full my life is of simple pleasures
that I take for granted and that most human beings
have never once experienced.]
100104
PEEK-A-BOO-HOO
All those days
being discreet,
effacing myself,
trying to hide.
Such effort!
And you weren’t
even looking.
100103
NIGHT VISITOR
There’s no gift like a giver—
and the One who gave us sight
and touch and hearing
visited last night,
leaving a world of stillness
wrapped in winter white.
DISMAL DECADE
Bad as it was, it’s over now—
the decade of the Aughts—
and would have been much better,
had we fulfilled our Oughts.
100102
BLUE—WHO KNEW? (for Carrie)
I learned tonight—
a Blue Moon's not blue;
just the second one
in a month with two.
[ASIDE: As for me, I learned online today that this date
can be written 2010-01-02 or "20100102" which reads
the same backwards or forwards. Such a palindrome
will not recur for ages.]
* * *
100105
DEAR GOD!
I have this—but I want more;
I want that, with every pore.
I have things that I adore;
I have merchandise galore—
things in use and things in store—
but I want more, and more, and more.
Thanking? —Something I abhor.
Asking? —Even though it’s such chore,
once again, I implore,
“Please, Sir, may I have some more?”
[ASIDE: As I enjoyed a warm shower this morning,
I realized how full my life is of simple pleasures
that I take for granted and that most human beings
have never once experienced.]
100104
PEEK-A-BOO-HOO
All those days
being discreet,
effacing myself,
trying to hide.
Such effort!
And you weren’t
even looking.
100103
NIGHT VISITOR
There’s no gift like a giver—
and the One who gave us sight
and touch and hearing
visited last night,
leaving a world of stillness
wrapped in winter white.
DISMAL DECADE
Bad as it was, it’s over now—
the decade of the Aughts—
and would have been much better,
had we fulfilled our Oughts.
100102
BLUE—WHO KNEW? (for Carrie)
I learned tonight—
a Blue Moon's not blue;
just the second one
in a month with two.
[ASIDE: As for me, I learned online today that this date
can be written 2010-01-02 or "20100102" which reads
the same backwards or forwards. Such a palindrome
will not recur for ages.]
* * *
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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