Tag Archives: observations

Abandoned

The abandoned lines are welcome. They collect on scrips and pages.

Writing is something that I can not believe I will have time to do.

My first thought was to go back to the place where I was sitting.  For a time, I was simply there and trying.  Gardening, while a gang of robins followed me about the bed – inspecting my work.

The second thought was you. Somehow the verses always came as if you spoke them. You are not here and the poetry can be seen through; the language is not the answer. The rhythm is listless.

The drumbeats of my favorites are thrumming in the past.

I open up the door and get the mail from the slot.

There is a letter from a woman in Seattle, a postcard from a school friend visiting Niagara Falls, coupons for home improvement tasks, and a form letter guarantee for future savings – if I act now.

I write this all down for future projects, perhaps ones that could be emerald and glistening, for poems about lost souls and overwhelmed emotions.  For times when I need to cover. Maybe build a patio that sees the sky or install block windows to hide.

The abandoned lines are welcome, they fill the page and occupy my mind.

Walls and Bridges

Horizons awaken
and to get there from here one must see
where the hills and hollows meet
and the rivers and streams retreat
to dreams and shadows fey.

Please do not build a wall,
the kind where horizons are hidden from view.

Solidified mortar against the weather
against the sun and rain, that blocks
one or the other – when they -the both
of them just work together to ripen
and soak this land of opportunity.

I ask that you don’t build a wall,
the kind where there’s brick upon stone.

Though time will avail itself
The vines and the climbers –
the clematis and trumpets will rise
and entwine, stifling the numbness.
The grout it will crumble
with a shout through the pale
as history teaches – walls are assailed.

Do not build a wall, please forego
this thought of a modern Jericho.

The grindstone of building this edifice-
the structure and reasons abound.
The land and the people in unison
need something better – more sound.
Synchronous dreams and horizons.
Hope beyond now- shared not fought.
Walls will not bring us contentment.
Bridges are much better thoughts.

Summer in Chelsea

There’s a summer in Chelsea,
a lazy, flush sunrise –
a dew, with its mettle
at morning, then stripped of its guise.
Full glow and blushing
in the mid-day, with nothing
borne except the breezes
that prattle and patter the leaves
and the warm air that settles,
the ardor that thieves.
Just before rain-drops
and thunder arrive on the scene
to swirl and knead everything
before the employ
of the night,incandescent,with hushes
and wants. Pooled sweat and twilight
and intimate haunts.
Indeed, a summer in Chelsea,
and she beams nonchalance.

non-sequitur moment

I don’t speak Gaelic,
and I’ve never been to Venice, either,
she said -between bites of her sandwich-
not looking at anyone in particular.

And I thought:

It must take a long time to get there by rowboat.
The ocean is only half-filled with water,
though there is plenty of time,
plenty of it.
plenty…

It is only 8 miles across the straits of Gibraltar
where the big rock is.
(Well, there is probably more than one),
and they keep getting reshaped and worn by water.

Maybe water can reshape me
or move me out to the sea.

Stones don’t move themselves;
they just get reshaped by water.
Running water.
Falling down.
Breaking it apart.
Lots of water falling down and crashing into crags and crevices.

That’s why rocks crash into the sea.

The ocean is half-full of rocks, I said.

And she nodded with fluid regality
-between bites of her sandwich-
like a queen or princess.

****
Originally published in Soundzine | February, 2011

debris/hubris

I’ve noticed how
you reach for a speck
or a fleck of dust –
a strand of hair –
and remove it;
using your thumb and
middle finger to cinch
then pull away
the stray trinket.

And just as nimbly,
You eye
with a glance,
just on the chance
that some appraisal is not
justified.

Then release -aside-
the interloping bits
that cling-
These things.

********************
I like to observe how people interact – with others, with their surroundings. Sometimes you can infer things by observing behaviour. Sometimes not…

In all, a simple poem with some nice elements.

bits and pieces

Just some quick observations from the past few days…

Tomatoes don’t ripen very fast in Ohio. I’ve mentioned that I have an extraterrestrial tomato plant growing in my back yard, and the fruit-bearing capacity is phenomenal, yet they’ve been green for the better part of a month. At this rate, we’ll be having fried green tomatoes for a week, come October.

Fried green tomatoes are better when you use corn meal and salt. I tried making some this week using MW Cornbread mix (the sweet kind)…not my best effort. I was trying to use what I had on hand…mistake.

The Rat Patrol was much more violent and “adult-themed” than I remembered. I used to watch this show as a kid – I think it was in syndication by that time though. A friend recently loaned me the DVDs because I wanted to binge-watch the show. While not gory in detail, it certainly has it’s share of gratuitous violence, mayhem, and innuendo.

The square metal spatula that you can buy from that mail order kitchen implement supplier (coddled…cook), has a resonant frequency at B-flat 2 octaves above middle C. Good to know if you are ever in need of a tuning pitch at a party or for spontaneous acapella singing in the kitchen. Make sure it’s clean though.

Re-tiling a small bathroom (WC) is not as daunting a task as I thought it was. Despite knowing the rule that the job will take twice as long as you think and cost twice as much, it wasn’t that difficult. I managed to complete it within a few weeks (I didn’t work on it every day, because it wasn’t a critical need toilet).

begin_n

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I could have done it in a weekend if I were pressed for time. I think it looks nice. The most difficult thing was measuring and cutting the edge bits and pieces to fit the door jams. Still a few minor details to finish, beyond the flooring – but I am proud of the job.

Today’s song of the day is Chicago’s Feelin’ Stronger Every Day

Not so much for the lyrics – lots of oohs and yeah yeahs in there – but the spirit of the message and the uplifting sound and harmonies is just right.