The city lay below me in
a curl of waterfalls,
with beauty near utopian
a-spilling o'er its walls.
The splendor of this happy scene
lit fireflies 'fore my eyes
and set my thoughts to questing how
it had become this prize.
What were the land and city like
in their presplendent days?
Before the polish of the years
had captured sunshine's rays
what work and sweat and tears were sown
to cultivate this mood?
What weeds were pulled, what furrows plowed,
which unsprung seeds exhumed?
I could imagine but in part,
and so I turned away
to travel back instead of on,
retrace my steps that day.
I'd follow through the fallow fields
to nascent sprouting shoots.
I'd find out how to grow such trees
that yield such glorious fruits.
I'd tend the roots and learn to keep
them strong through storm and sun;
I'd tend the flocks, protect from wolves,
and learn how wool is spun.
Perhaps someday I'd know enough
to build a place as blest,
where gates resplendent opened wide
for travelers to rest.
My paradise appeared that day,
premade to enter in,
but heav'n for me is lost until
remade and found again.
May 20, 2010
Showing posts with label Written at Poetry Club. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Written at Poetry Club. Show all posts
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Polio
breathing rhythmically
safe in a metal cocoon
called an iron lung
* * *
ten brave pioneers
march, then shuffle, totter, crawl:
the placebo group
Jun, 2010, after reading The Giant Slayer
safe in a metal cocoon
called an iron lung
* * *
ten brave pioneers
march, then shuffle, totter, crawl:
the placebo group
Jun, 2010, after reading The Giant Slayer
Ninevah
I'm just going to go out tonight
for some fun.
You simply haven't the slightest right
To demand more of me.
No, I refuse to listen to you
anymore.
If I catch you around, you know what I'll do?
Use your imagination.
What's that to me? It's his affair--
lack of preparation.
I tell you it's her fault and I don't care
I'll do what I want.
Give that back, It's mine you know.
Don't mock me with taunts.
I hate you.
* * *
Yes, I know this city, this country is wrong,
going down the tubes.
It's all these people--they don't belong.
They're dragging us down.
Of course I can't fix it! What could I do?
It's their town.
You say that I could, I can find goodness and truth?
Where do I start?
With myself? But it's not me! I'm just fine.
Examine my heart?
What good will that do when the fault isn't mine?
You promise me?
You've done it yourself. You found the light.
Now you can see.
Well, I suppose it might work, you could maybe be right.
What must I do?
* * *
I'll tell all I meet. It's more
than I wished.
Thank God for Jonahs
and great fish.
Fall, 2009
for some fun.
You simply haven't the slightest right
To demand more of me.
No, I refuse to listen to you
anymore.
If I catch you around, you know what I'll do?
Use your imagination.
What's that to me? It's his affair--
lack of preparation.
I tell you it's her fault and I don't care
I'll do what I want.
Give that back, It's mine you know.
Don't mock me with taunts.
I hate you.
* * *
Yes, I know this city, this country is wrong,
going down the tubes.
It's all these people--they don't belong.
They're dragging us down.
Of course I can't fix it! What could I do?
It's their town.
You say that I could, I can find goodness and truth?
Where do I start?
With myself? But it's not me! I'm just fine.
Examine my heart?
What good will that do when the fault isn't mine?
You promise me?
You've done it yourself. You found the light.
Now you can see.
Well, I suppose it might work, you could maybe be right.
What must I do?
* * *
I'll tell all I meet. It's more
than I wished.
Thank God for Jonahs
and great fish.
Fall, 2009
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Ocean IV
Under a yellow umbrella he sits in the shade with his face to the sea.
Castles of sand resting out on the shore start to melt in the rush of the tide.
Pebbles in windows and seashells for doors, and a pennant of seaweed and twigs
proudly defiant of waves overflowing the fortress defenses so thin,
not even noticing how all the waves have been washing the walls 'til they're smooth.
Scattering droplets of ocean behind him and sand in his wake as he runs,
chasing a shadow that chases a ball who is heedless of castles and waves,
a dog leaves behind foot-shaped prints in the sand, tiny tide-pools that glint in the sun.
Seagulls swoop low watching closely for crumbs, or for crackers, or cautionless crabs.
Castles of sand resting out on the shore start to melt in the rush of the tide.
Pebbles in windows and seashells for doors, and a pennant of seaweed and twigs
proudly defiant of waves overflowing the fortress defenses so thin,
not even noticing how all the waves have been washing the walls 'til they're smooth.
Scattering droplets of ocean behind him and sand in his wake as he runs,
chasing a shadow that chases a ball who is heedless of castles and waves,
a dog leaves behind foot-shaped prints in the sand, tiny tide-pools that glint in the sun.
Seagulls swoop low watching closely for crumbs, or for crackers, or cautionless crabs.
Ocean III
Sextant in hand, I walk the coasts:
one foot in tide the other in waves of sand,
and above me wheel and call the white-winged stars,
swooping in a slower dance than daytime's gulls.
How long have I walked here, mesmerized by sand
and shifting latitudes? Half forgetting
the longing in my shoulders for a wind-taut sail,
for a close-hauled tack with you against the harbor,
pulled in and sheltered by the arms of home--
a point, a promontory, promising calm
and even keeling, and the chance to brave the rough
another day.
How casting deep the sound may be,
how high the sinking reef, the chart my feet have drawn
does not disclose. Horizons flee as fast as following,
and the tide beneath my feet is shifting. And so I trust
to swirling stars, lights on that unseen shore, to guide me safe
across the black sky, through the hush of waves.
one foot in tide the other in waves of sand,
and above me wheel and call the white-winged stars,
swooping in a slower dance than daytime's gulls.
How long have I walked here, mesmerized by sand
and shifting latitudes? Half forgetting
the longing in my shoulders for a wind-taut sail,
for a close-hauled tack with you against the harbor,
pulled in and sheltered by the arms of home--
a point, a promontory, promising calm
and even keeling, and the chance to brave the rough
another day.
How casting deep the sound may be,
how high the sinking reef, the chart my feet have drawn
does not disclose. Horizons flee as fast as following,
and the tide beneath my feet is shifting. And so I trust
to swirling stars, lights on that unseen shore, to guide me safe
across the black sky, through the hush of waves.
Ocean II
Hemmed in by the surge and spray,
Breakers crashing on the quay,
While wrung-out bells in buoys sway,
I huddle 'gainst the pounding sea.
The jetty muffles to a roar
The sound of waves that strike the shore,
Harbingers of what's in store--
Their salty mist rains down on me.
Breakers crashing on the quay,
While wrung-out bells in buoys sway,
I huddle 'gainst the pounding sea.
The jetty muffles to a roar
The sound of waves that strike the shore,
Harbingers of what's in store--
Their salty mist rains down on me.
Ocean I
Lying on a towel with sand all through my hair,
I hear children making castles they imagined once before.
The surf calls to the gulls up catching droplets in the air,
and flotsam drifting through my thoughts and cluttering the shore
floats my thoughts into the distant summer afternoon.
Sunlight warms my fingertips into an easy soar
that matches with the clouds above me in the blue of June.
I watch the lazy swoops and swirls of two low-flying kites
dancing 'round each other like the sun about the moon.
Crabs below with friends in tow chase shadows in delight.
Through it all dashes a dog, yellow, bright, and brave,
Barking at my wand'ring thoughts to wake and sit upright,
to see his gift: a cheerful flip-flop floating in the waves.
I hear children making castles they imagined once before.
The surf calls to the gulls up catching droplets in the air,
and flotsam drifting through my thoughts and cluttering the shore
floats my thoughts into the distant summer afternoon.
Sunlight warms my fingertips into an easy soar
that matches with the clouds above me in the blue of June.
I watch the lazy swoops and swirls of two low-flying kites
dancing 'round each other like the sun about the moon.
Crabs below with friends in tow chase shadows in delight.
Through it all dashes a dog, yellow, bright, and brave,
Barking at my wand'ring thoughts to wake and sit upright,
to see his gift: a cheerful flip-flop floating in the waves.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Dentistry Limerick
A dentist removing a tooth
From Ruth's mouth was a little uncouth
He cursed and he swore,
Then he yanked and he tore,
And, ruthless, left her toothless forsooth!
Oct 15, 2009
From Ruth's mouth was a little uncouth
He cursed and he swore,
Then he yanked and he tore,
And, ruthless, left her toothless forsooth!
Oct 15, 2009
To a friend
When you are lost,
the hardest part is knowing when
to walk and when to wait where you are.
wherever that is.
Because someone might be looking for you,
and if you are gone when they come,
how will you ever be found?
But when you are lost
from God, and He knows right where you are,
but isn't looking,
Do you turn your back on Him?
When you decide He's never coming,
how will you ever find yourself?
Walking out on the universe
to a life full of very little,
you wont be able to hear His voice
When he comes calling for you.
Your pain and loss will drown it out
with the sound of fingernails scraping
against . . . nothing
Oct 15, 2009
the hardest part is knowing when
to walk and when to wait where you are.
wherever that is.
Because someone might be looking for you,
and if you are gone when they come,
how will you ever be found?
But when you are lost
from God, and He knows right where you are,
but isn't looking,
Do you turn your back on Him?
When you decide He's never coming,
how will you ever find yourself?
Walking out on the universe
to a life full of very little,
you wont be able to hear His voice
When he comes calling for you.
Your pain and loss will drown it out
with the sound of fingernails scraping
against . . . nothing
Oct 15, 2009
Christmas Haiku
Moonlight on the snow
Glistening and bright it casts
One shadow too few
Gloves laid on the hearth
We sit by the fire tonight
Hand in hand again
Oct 15, 2009
Glistening and bright it casts
One shadow too few
Gloves laid on the hearth
We sit by the fire tonight
Hand in hand again
Oct 15, 2009
Poeticality
Poetry is noticing the little things
that help you see the bigger poems -
poems describing big things.
Oct 15, 2009
that help you see the bigger poems -
poems describing big things.
Oct 15, 2009
Carbonation
earth in a bottle:
glass sky,
fluid sights,
corked thoughts.
shake before opening.
Oct 15, 2009
glass sky,
fluid sights,
corked thoughts.
shake before opening.
Oct 15, 2009
Monday, September 13, 2010
Without Clouds
Without clouds, who would glow pink at sunrise
or orange at dusk?
Who would dawn touch
with her rosy fingers?
Without clouds, who would tuck us in
on cold winter nights
under the soft white
of a thick blanket of snow?
Without clouds, who would soften the horizon
on days sharp with heat
when the blue sky
slices
into the land?
Who would keep the desert
from bleeding red stone
into the sand?
Without clouds, who would hide us
from the lonely spaces
between the stars,
gently shrouding
the emptiness?
Without clouds, who would breathe in,
feeling the deep breeze
above the sea
or massage the mountain’s worn shoulders?
Who would caress the birds
when they are too tired,
too tired
to fly?
Without clouds, who would shade the sun
from our grief
on sad and rainy days,
wrapping his smile in close
so none of the gray
can seep through?
Without clouds, who would catch the moonlight
before it falls
tinkling
and shatters
twinkling
into stardust?
Who would weave together
the unraveling wisps of summer
when the season’s stitching starts
to come undone?
Without clouds, who would we watch,
pointing,
looking for shapes,
and finding ourselves
in the sky?
Jan 9, 2009
or orange at dusk?
Who would dawn touch
with her rosy fingers?
Without clouds, who would tuck us in
on cold winter nights
under the soft white
of a thick blanket of snow?
Without clouds, who would soften the horizon
on days sharp with heat
when the blue sky
slices
into the land?
Who would keep the desert
from bleeding red stone
into the sand?
Without clouds, who would hide us
from the lonely spaces
between the stars,
gently shrouding
the emptiness?
Without clouds, who would breathe in,
feeling the deep breeze
above the sea
or massage the mountain’s worn shoulders?
Who would caress the birds
when they are too tired,
too tired
to fly?
Without clouds, who would shade the sun
from our grief
on sad and rainy days,
wrapping his smile in close
so none of the gray
can seep through?
Without clouds, who would catch the moonlight
before it falls
tinkling
and shatters
twinkling
into stardust?
Who would weave together
the unraveling wisps of summer
when the season’s stitching starts
to come undone?
Without clouds, who would we watch,
pointing,
looking for shapes,
and finding ourselves
in the sky?
Jan 9, 2009
Dusk
When the clouds are hanging low
and the stars are hanging high
and I’m sandwiched in the middle
’tween the mountains and the sky,
When the city down below
says ‘good evening’ to the night
and a gentle twilit breeze
begins blowing out the lights,
When the birds and bats are dancing
through the changing of the guard
and the grass begins to soften
while the sky is growing hard,
When the smell of autumn colors
washing up into the air
sends a trickling stream of stardust
to cascade upon my hair,
Nov 24, 2008
I think I did finish this at one point, but I only have the old version right now.
and the stars are hanging high
and I’m sandwiched in the middle
’tween the mountains and the sky,
When the city down below
says ‘good evening’ to the night
and a gentle twilit breeze
begins blowing out the lights,
When the birds and bats are dancing
through the changing of the guard
and the grass begins to soften
while the sky is growing hard,
When the smell of autumn colors
washing up into the air
sends a trickling stream of stardust
to cascade upon my hair,
Nov 24, 2008
I think I did finish this at one point, but I only have the old version right now.
idea
A thought, a lightbulb coming on upstairs,
Acutely edisonian in form
That, incandescent, shines inside my mind
And, brightly filamentous, keeps me warm.
It may have turned on early in the day,
When all was brightly sunlit, bathed in light.
But now in bed, the day fading to black,
This glowing nightlight soothes my inner sight.
Apr 23, 2009
Acutely edisonian in form
That, incandescent, shines inside my mind
And, brightly filamentous, keeps me warm.
It may have turned on early in the day,
When all was brightly sunlit, bathed in light.
But now in bed, the day fading to black,
This glowing nightlight soothes my inner sight.
Apr 23, 2009
The Morning After
One thing I don’t miss
When I go to the desert,
Is the morning after rain.
The ground is wet and soaked
So you walk on the high parts
Avoiding the puddles
That’s where the worms are.
Waterlogged, bloated,
They throw themselves down
And you wonder why
Despite early birds and april showers
That there are still worms
How can there possibly be
So many places to crawl
In the two inches underfoot?
But you watch your step,
Hoping that a wriggler
Escapes the great flood.
Apr 23, 2009
When I go to the desert,
Is the morning after rain.
The ground is wet and soaked
So you walk on the high parts
Avoiding the puddles
That’s where the worms are.
Waterlogged, bloated,
They throw themselves down
And you wonder why
Despite early birds and april showers
That there are still worms
How can there possibly be
So many places to crawl
In the two inches underfoot?
But you watch your step,
Hoping that a wriggler
Escapes the great flood.
Apr 23, 2009
reconnaissANTce
reconnaissANTce
tip-toe, tip-toe
little hole there in the baseboard
tip-toe, tip-toe
pipes and wires in the wall
tip-toe, tip-toe
sugar in the kitchen cupboard
tip-toe, tip-toe
frosting on the bottom shelf
tip-toe, tip-toe
poison hidden in the pantry
tip-toe, tip-toe
garbage underneath the sink
tip-toe, tip-toe
honey sitting by . . .
sneak, sneak
. . what was that?
sneak, sneak
oh no!
sneak, sneak
tip-toe, tip-toe
sneak, sneak
ok, now it’s time to go!
sneak, sneak
tip-toe, tip-toe
running quickly ‘cross the counter
tip-toe, tip-toe
heading for the window sill
sneak, sneak
hurry now, it’s right behind you!
sneak, sneak
through the crack beneath the tile
. . . . . .
safe.
tip-toe, tip-toe
flowers blooming in the garden
tip-toe, tip-toe
birdseed spilled beside the lawn
tip-toe, tip-toe
gravel out behind the tool shed
tip-toe, tip-toe
home beneath a hill of sand.
tip-toe, tip-toe
spread the word to all the others
tip-toe, tip-toe
pass the message to the queen
tip-toe, tip-toe
find another place for dinner¬–
tip-toe, tip-toe
blue-tail lizard lives next door
Nov 18, 2008
tip-toe, tip-toe
little hole there in the baseboard
tip-toe, tip-toe
pipes and wires in the wall
tip-toe, tip-toe
sugar in the kitchen cupboard
tip-toe, tip-toe
frosting on the bottom shelf
tip-toe, tip-toe
poison hidden in the pantry
tip-toe, tip-toe
garbage underneath the sink
tip-toe, tip-toe
honey sitting by . . .
sneak, sneak
. . what was that?
sneak, sneak
oh no!
sneak, sneak
tip-toe, tip-toe
sneak, sneak
ok, now it’s time to go!
sneak, sneak
tip-toe, tip-toe
running quickly ‘cross the counter
tip-toe, tip-toe
heading for the window sill
sneak, sneak
hurry now, it’s right behind you!
sneak, sneak
through the crack beneath the tile
. . . . . .
safe.
tip-toe, tip-toe
flowers blooming in the garden
tip-toe, tip-toe
birdseed spilled beside the lawn
tip-toe, tip-toe
gravel out behind the tool shed
tip-toe, tip-toe
home beneath a hill of sand.
tip-toe, tip-toe
spread the word to all the others
tip-toe, tip-toe
pass the message to the queen
tip-toe, tip-toe
find another place for dinner¬–
tip-toe, tip-toe
blue-tail lizard lives next door
Nov 18, 2008
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Haiku for Elder Bodily
花びらや
なお美しく
追慕にも
Soft flower petals
Still, forever, beautiful
E'en in memory
なお美しく
追慕にも
Soft flower petals
Still, forever, beautiful
E'en in memory
Apr 27, 2009
written for Sister Bodily on the occasion of her husband's funeral
An Important Wish
Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have the wish I wish tonight
Star two, right on cue
I trust this wish also to you.
I hope you can, I hope you do
Help the wish I wish come true.
All around, without a sound,
Stars that in the sky abound,
All so constant, so profound,
May my hopes and dreams be found.
Last I pray to stars of day
Who drift unseen along your way
Be it light or dark or gray
Will you please join this display?
With light and bright, stars one and two,
In surrounding night, o'er morning dew,
All stars that shine in heaven's view,
My heart's own hope I trust to you,
This is my wish . . .
Sep 25, 2008
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have the wish I wish tonight
Star two, right on cue
I trust this wish also to you.
I hope you can, I hope you do
Help the wish I wish come true.
All around, without a sound,
Stars that in the sky abound,
All so constant, so profound,
May my hopes and dreams be found.
Last I pray to stars of day
Who drift unseen along your way
Be it light or dark or gray
Will you please join this display?
With light and bright, stars one and two,
In surrounding night, o'er morning dew,
All stars that shine in heaven's view,
My heart's own hope I trust to you,
This is my wish . . .
Sep 25, 2008
She, Too, Beside Me
It took me longer than it should have
to propose to you,
because there were two decisions
wrapped together in that ring,
tighter than twisting.
The first one I made long ago:
I always wanted to marry you,
the you I know so well.
But to trust, honor, and obey,
to “I do” in every way,
I knew I’d need to love
the you I don’t know.
Tomorrow
you will be different, someone new,
and I promise you,
I will love her in health and sickness.
And the woman she becomes,
I will protect her in joy and sorrow.
And I will cherish the mother who comes after her,
through better and worse.
I give myself to all of them,
all of you.
Each morning the eyes I see
are new.
They have laughed more.
Each evening the hands I hold
are new.
They have sung more.
And each day the heart I love
is new.
It has danced more.
I want you beside me today,
and I swear to love
all of you
forever.
Nov 14, 2008
to propose to you,
because there were two decisions
wrapped together in that ring,
tighter than twisting.
The first one I made long ago:
I always wanted to marry you,
the you I know so well.
But to trust, honor, and obey,
to “I do” in every way,
I knew I’d need to love
the you I don’t know.
Tomorrow
you will be different, someone new,
and I promise you,
I will love her in health and sickness.
And the woman she becomes,
I will protect her in joy and sorrow.
And I will cherish the mother who comes after her,
through better and worse.
I give myself to all of them,
all of you.
Each morning the eyes I see
are new.
They have laughed more.
Each evening the hands I hold
are new.
They have sung more.
And each day the heart I love
is new.
It has danced more.
I want you beside me today,
and I swear to love
all of you
forever.
Nov 14, 2008
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