Morning horizon
Bright red, like rush hour brake lights
Warning in the sky
poem
Night Rain
Night Rain
Splashes and Rivulets.
The rain dances then flows
washing, cleansing the
streets and sidewalks
by lamplight
while the city sleeps.
The sins of Winter
washed into the gutter and
time moves slowly.
I stare impatient
by the window
waiting for repentant Spring.
LOL 2
Another poem – this one’s about laughter itself.
Laughs Like Potato Chips
Laughs are like
potato chips
you can’t eat just one
Ha is not as infections as haha
or hahahahaha…
You can’t have tee without the hee
or teeheeheehee
It’s harder to grin
from one side of the mouth
easier with both
If you laugh without sound
you’re in very much danger
so wheeze, grunt, snort or chuckle
laugh until your weak in the knees
If the belly stopped after one shake
when it shakes with laughter
you would die
lots of laughs
are better than one
and laughing out loud
is better than death
LOL
There is a long proud history of bawdy humor in literature of all types including poetry. I’ve decided it’s time I give it a go at low brow humor.
Body Music
Farting is the sound
of the body’s marching band.
Its trumpeting brass,
thunderous drums, and
the delicate squeak of the clarinet.
Gaseous humors
released from within,
expelled with force or
slipping out through the cracks
in a hissing wind.
Grand multi-sensory experience –
whether earthquaking, embarrassingly obvious
or silent and deadly;
a bowel-shaking satisfaction
will always make you smile.
Polite society is no place for me.
Let the face bunch up in laughter
and let the ears tingle.
LET IT RIP! (and of course)
pass the nose-plugs please.
for more laughs….
http://mentalfloss.com/article/52419/11-literary-fart-jokes
Inspiration In Unlikely Places
My ears tingle from
the klatter and klang
Sturm und Drang…..
orchestra of rust
….. in…..
A concert hall of corrugated steel
over block walls
under a steel frame roof
blown by the wind
in a symphony of sound,
a joyful noise unto the Lord
The abandoned temple of industry
a holy shroud
baptized by peeling paint
once wet… shiny… new…
now cracked and broken
hardened by life
dry… damaged…
decay from neglect
a slow discard of memories
….. soon forgotten…..
Now the doors are thrown open
“Free Admission!”
“Welcoming All Worshipers!”
a gathering of misfits, undesirables and homeless,
insects, rodents and birds…
the garden within.
The heart finds redemption
in this arcane recital,
hallowed and profane
within the unsuspecting shell
… of shadows and shades.
the forgotten valentine
THE FORGOTTEN VALENTINE
Hearts and candy
Baked goods, cards and flowers
A saints holiday,
… the saint would not recognize.
Pagan cupids,
fleshy child-like innocents
with winking mischief,
ready with arrows and bow
to slay the expectant heart.
…… while other hearts
go unfulfilled
longing for companionship
like dry ground longs for rain.
… and winged cupid’s
in their flawed judgement
fly by… mocking
… saving their arrows
for the select few
and not the ones in need.
Laundromat
LAUNDROMAT
Chattering women
gossip pretentiously
each is right… each is self-assured of her rightness
even if they do speak in the tongues of angels
ignorance and distance.
I, huddled in the far corner by the door
recently propped open by a newcomer
transporting her laundry from car to machine
unaware of her effect on others
Cold winter air flooding around me
chilled to the bone
impatiently waiting
unable to escape
trapped in my domestic duty.
In 07minutes I will be able to carry
the cold, damp, freshly-washed garments and
deposit them into a warm dryer
to tumble and fluff then fold
and afterwards,
finally, leaving for the quiet solitude of home.
How cold is it?
WINTERS COLD
Winters cold lunges
clasping onto the unwary passerby
winters icy grip claws furiously
looking for any weakness
The traveler, wrapped in soft cloth
armor of futility
shuddering and struggling to keep out
the frigid beast
Winters cold, unrelenting in its search
finding exposed skin
like a wild animal, shakes it’s prey
tearing and biting the blood-filled shell of life
The traveler….. gasping, heart beating rapidly
slowly stiffening as the last vestiges
of warmth reluctantly flee
the beast boldly triumphant
….. until…..
The traveler ducks into an open door
homes welcoming hearth & warm familial remedy
the winter beast rears up wounded and repelled by warmth,
releases its hold then roars into the night
searching for a new victim
[in memory of the bitter cold of almost two weeks ago when temperatures here in Akron, Ohio literally rivaled those of Antarctica especially when factoring in windchill]
new untitled poem
(untitled) 1/29/19 1AM
… with bigoted clam-shelled-shut heart
pinched accusation and fervent digit all gesticulation…
… their unctuous moral fortitude, no reverence for creation
razes the standard none can achieve
happy to fail, happy to fall
into the boiling cauldron of righteousness…
… reason lost.
Who will avail the good, decent, compassionate
and forgiving soil?
… planting seeds to each grow its own kind
fruit bearing and fruitless
watered by streams of untethered acceptance.
Virtues are best left in deep shadows
where they are not exposed to the light of…
… haughty self-aggrandizement,
bleached by self-promotion or discolored by false humility…
… left in the heavy darkness when eyes close
and sound fades to sleep…
… perchance to dream.
Choices
in memory of Rod Geiser December 2018
Choices: How Long Does It Take A bullet To Kill?
Choices: Years
It takes years of modeling behavior and molding thought
inspired by wrong perceptions and misplaced values
Choices: Months
There are months of despair
Choices: Weeks
There are weeks of frustration
Choices: Days
Persistent anger for days
Choices: Hours
Decisions made over the course of hours
Choices: Minutes
Actions taken over the course of just minutes
Choices: Seconds
It takes only a second to fire a gun
Choices: Instantly
In an instant the bullet will pierce the body
Choices
…and the destiny of shooter and victim
are irrevocably changed.
Choices
Change MUST come
Politically
Socially
Culturally
spiritually
Choices
Choices I must make
Choices You must make
Choices We must make
The time is NOW.
… on… a new baby….
I created a couple of Haiku’s to go with this favorite non-traditional Christmas song.
Heard the baby cry
Neighbors gently hush back to sleep
Thin walls breathe hope
Young woman, young man
Their Christmas gift arrived early
Joy all season long
… on… winter….
Winter has been a favorite season of mine for a long long time. The things I always liked about winter were the cold, ice, snow and wind…. But winters have been milder (thanks to climate change) so I find them less enjoyable than previously. Looks like we’ll have a “green” Christmas – for at least the fifth year in a row…… I remember when Christmas’s were always “white” with snow. Oh well, that’s life. Last week we had some snow so I was able to get out and enjoy it for the couple of days it lasted. Today’s image is proof of that.
When winter comes
Its cold dark embrace beguiling
We search for warmth
Wind howls coldly
Wrapped in sweaters of warmth
Hide in hovels
Winters Solstice
Boldly we soldier on
Bring On The Night
Light only flickers
Dancing a tarantella
A dark long night-scape
In the northern hemisphere Christmas is also closely aligned with the Winter Solstice – the darkest time of the year when days are short and nights are long (unlike my friends in the southern hemisphere where this is the beginning of summer).
In honor of the Winter Solstice here is some music by the underrated Tin Hat Trio. The track is titled THE LONGEST NIGHT from their recording Book Of Silk.
… on… the macro verse….
I’ve long been fascinated with macro photography. It’s so hard to do it right. And I’m usually too lazy to carry a tripod around so I’ve never really bothered. But lately, as my previous post shows. I’ve started getting into the so-called groove of close-up and macro imaging. I still don’t use a tripod – all handheld – so the number of useable images are limited.
This morning was a beautiful frosty December morning and I decided to go to a local park close to downtown and only about 5 minutes from my apartment. Here are two of the images I was able to use from this morning along with two new haiku. Hope you enjoy them.
Frosty mornings
Inhale a crispy frozen breath
I gasp, in love
Whiplash wind storm
When I am lost you bend me back
See what’s behind
The music moment is provided by the Tindersticks. Their song FROZEN from their recent album – The Something Rain.
… on… a thousand fading stars….
Night comes darkly
Bringer of dreams and nightmares
Floating in space
Flash of excitement
A thousand stars fading from view
Dreamers wake to light
Your music moment is by Mazzy Star – FADE INTO YOU
from their 1993 album So Tonight That I Might See.
… on… 3 new haiku attempts….
Squirrel sky highways
wires crossed to connect
away from the road
Autumn breathes In Moods
Warm days, cool nights and waterfalls
Time dreaming TWIN PEAKS
Driving brings limits
Destinations form in the soul
Spirits need no roads
… on… the wasteland….
“What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”
~ T.S. Eliot
WASTELAND #1
… on end of day/week….
Work is done, days end
Fluffy
Lavender and gilded tangerine
Clouds
My Winters evening skies
…on one spring evening…
…faint glow of incense burning
night of a thousand warriors
plum blossoms in the rain…
A memory…
I’ve been reading SEEDTIME, writings from the notebooks of Swiss poet Phillipe Jaccotet. His writings about the swiss countryside bring back so many memories. Memories of growing up on the farm near Kidron, OH (USA) So here are some thoughts of my own:
Murmured Lowing. Distant cowbells. Waking sparrow.
The light is dark at dawn.Blue-black sky. Green-black landscape. Summer morning.
Fence post sentinels line the pasture lane.Early to bed, early to rise. Morning chores beckon. Lids heavy slow response.
The bed is warmest when waking.
My Grandfather used to make trips to Switzerland our ancestral homeland and in 1948 he had a set of cowbells made that covered at least two octaves on the western musical scale. Here is an image of one of our family’s cowbells that I’ve been able to salvage. Not sure what happened to the rest. Bells were cast in Bronze, included the family name (Geiser), date (1948), image of a cow and decorative Edelweiss flowers, the text “Made in Switzerland” and name of the foundry where bell was cast (Barinotto Co. Fonderie La Chaux De Fonds)
And what do cowbells sound like? What sound became so familiar to me during summer?
(fyi – there is a 20 second gap in sound near the beginning).
Values
WHAT VALUES
Who co-opted our values
Who changed the primary meaning of the word
Who dared to stare at the face of God
and say, “Who are you?”
and, “How much?”
When did values change to only mean
deal
sale
cheap
bargain
When did the noun co-opt the verb
Will we ever be able to recover
prize
cherish
appreciate
those things
which cannot be defined
by material value
Maybe some day
it will be an innocent child
who recovers the truth
and once again
focuses and directs
away from materialism
the values of humanity
breathing new life
into old meanings
A Christmas Prayer
Lord God,
Father in Heaven
Thank you for this day
Today we celebrate the birth of Jesus of Nazareth
A man who would be, and did, become Messiah
The hope of all Israel and all of humanity
A man who taught, and showed us,
That we CAN have a relationship directly with you.
In this way he was the door, the gate,
Through which your spirit that dwells within us
Has been awakened.
We thank you for this awakening that removes all Hindrance
Even if that separation is political, social, religious
And now we thank you for this meal
And time of togetherness between family and friends
We bless this meal in the name of Jesus
That it may give us physical strength and stamina
We bless you that you may give us the mental and spiritual strength and stamina
To be a blessing to others we come in contact with;
Removing all wrong perceptions
In Jesus name, Amen.
I believe the best prayers are not prayers of thanks and requests (or to use consumerism terms – supply and demand). The best prayers are when we pray what we believe – not what we want or hope for. For example when we pray the Lords prayer do we hope these things are true that are mentioned OR do we really believe them? And how do we believe them?
Maybe some day I’ll dissect and expound on the Lords prayer specifically.
But for now – Merry Christmas everyone. Enjoy one of my favorite Christmas songs.
When the Crows Awoke
I was there when the crows awoke
I’d seen them the night before
Flocking to nearby trees
Under cover of night
A whole murder of crows
Ominous shadows filling up tree branches
As if the trees were in full bloom
Large black blossoms
Shimmering with city light
In the winter’s night air
Now at daybreak
I was there when the crows awoke
Their cawing and chattering so loud
Drowning out the sounds of morning rush hour
…and then…
With excited whispering wings
took flight and were gone
Only the rumble and buzz of morning traffic remains.
***background: I live in the city. And we have a lot of old trees still standing. Of course all the leaves are gone now. I was watching an old silent movie on TV and out of the corner of my eye saw perpetual shadows flickering past my windows. Finally my curiosity got the best of me. I went to the windows and saw the trees filled with hundreds of crows… their arrival continued for at least a couple of hours. Of course I didn’t think to move my car which, although not directly under the trees was close enough for the birds to leave their “mark”. When I went out to my little blue car in the morning it looked like a Jackson Pollock painting with streaks, smears, splats and lines of crow droppings in white, yellow and brown as well as small twigs that had fallen from the trees. What a mess. All-n-all it was a magical experience and worth a trip to the car wash. 🙂
Bravery
Nurses go
where only flies dare tread
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
Nurses go
strength in the face of weakness
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
Nurses go
to the place courage and kindness begin
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
Nurses go
with patience, understanding and compassion
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
wiping, cleaning, sanitizing
Nurses go where only flies dare tread
~ 10/2014 Aultman Hospital, Canton, OH
while at the hospital – 2 poems
Two poems while spending time in the hospital with Dad.
**************************************************
He
standing by the mirror
face unknown
memory of youth
now
naked
frail
weakened
memory of showers
remembrance of shaving
smooth skin
now
wrinkled
unsteady
dry
now there is trouble, shaving a chore
nothing is comfortable
and all you can do is wait
now
tests
results
hope
~ 10/13/14 Aultman Hospital, Canton, OH.
*****************************************************************
old skin hangs on old bones
through the back of a hospital gown
the time is slow
caution steps
one day at a time
ice cream melting in the sun
life is still present
but changed
my love is still present
but changed
a time of fast questions
slow answers
and wonder
~ 10/13/14 Aultman Hospital, Canton, OH.
*******************************************
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow’s rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime’s argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
The Only Thing You NEED To Know About Television!
Todd Alcott is an amazing spoke word artist.
Enjoy his poem TELEVISION.
... on being and becoming ... 