Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Mirage Oases By Kay Ryan

First among places
susceptible to trespass
are mirage oases.
Whose graduated pools
and shaded grasses, palms
and speckled fishes give
before the lightest pressure
and are wrecked.
For they live
only in the kingdom
of suspended wishes.
Thrives only at out pleasure

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

November 28, 2012

End of autumn,
Beginning of the winter
Fall semester is almost over.
Thanksgiving is over,
Instant switch of holiday season,
Colorful lights flash.
Shopping malls,
Weekend customers are full,
Gifts in bags, blissful.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The World We HAVE To Have by May Sarton

In the evening we came back
Into our yellow room,
For a moment taken aback
To find the light left on,
Falling on silent flowers,
Table, book, empty chair,
while we had gone elsewhere
for hours.
When we came home together,
We found the inside weather,
All of our love unended,
And we give, in a look
at yellow walls and open book.
The deepest world we share
and don't talk about
But have to have, was there,
And by that light found out.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

New Clothes of the Emperor

It is in elementary textbooks,
The mighty emperor's new clothes
are simply nothing but his own pride.
The tailors he has hired are heroes,
They have the nerve and wisdom
to teach all a lesson.
How sad that they've done nothing for days
while the emperor and his generals pretend or believe
that they see works be done ...
Innocent children speak of truth,
Sinful adults are blind to simple insults.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

A Morning Meditation By Daniel Roselle

Today let me touch the Earth
with gentle hands
and build anew.
Tomorrow let me remember
that all that I have built
belongs to Earth alone.
And always
Let me ask for no other blessing
than the one that God has already given me:
To Be!

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Friendship and Nature


Hungry 4 friendship,
The child in every one of us,
Human thread in nature.
take risks and march on,
Beat odds of damaged way,
The nature to win.
Music inspires us,
Listen to it more often,
Cool bound in nature.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Early Mornings (Haiku)


Get up, put on shoes,
Run, walk, run, walk, three circles,
Back at front year path.
Pushups, eye on stars,
Dozens of them, twinkling above,
It's 6:45am.
Remote control, socks,
Garage open, and shut, waters,
Breakfast after shower.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Nothing More? By Carol Stillings HuFF

Between birth and death-a time-
A mountain of hardships to climb,
Always struggling to open doors...
No place for me?
Nothing more?
An endless battle to live
is that all life has to give?
How many times I've asked before
No place for me?
Nothing more?

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Video Cuisine By Maxine Kumin (REvised Version, from 1997)


Thursday Short Story Slam Week 29: Dramas and Freedom

 Babies are weighed on color television again,
Tiny bags of bones are hooked to canvas slings
to be identified, which ones will receive dried-milk mush,
the concentrate made out of ground-up trash fish.
For years we've known them, back-lit by the desert,
These miles of dusty hands holding out goat skins or cups,
Their animals dead or dying of pest,
and after the credits come up I continue to sit.
Through dinner with Julia, where, in a Golden fish
poacher big enough for a small black baby, an
Alaska salmon simmers in a court bouillon, the palate
For a first course, steak tar-tare to awaken.
With it Julia suggests a zinfandel. This scene
has a polite, a touristy flavor to it,
And I let it play. But somewhere ox fam goes on
spooning gluey gruel between the parched lips.
of potbellied children, the ones who perhaps cab be saved
from Kwashiorkor- an ancient Ghanaian word-
Though with probable lowered IQs, the voice over explains
caused by protein deficiencies linked to the drought.
and the drought has grown worse with the gradual increase
in herds
overgrazing the thin forage grasses of the Sahel.

Friday, October 5, 2012

Summer Waves (1977)




Hyde Park Thursday Poets Rally Week 74 (October 4 -October 10)


The moon swims under the agate veins of clouds,
And it has no satellite,
The yacht-jammed harbor sits unattended,
Pictorial as if posed artfully on the cover
of the Magazine Fortune, including Italian, skiff,
Things turn stormy without warning,
The chestnut tree boughs swing by bolts of flashing,
While the wooden chair murmurs in creaking rhythm,
It's impossible to get on the boat
with disturbance wind from all directions,
and no mood for logical interrogation,
I think of my boys, at home,
or away from home,
I let time lend its wings to sort out things.

short story slam week 90, poetry and story inn fridays week 20

Bluebell Books Twitter Club! short story slam week 90, may 24 --- June 10, 2018                handsome forrest the gree...