Category Archives: poems

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catch

Catch

What bucket can catch this light and color?
None, I think, and then I think I am wrong.
A bucket lowered and set in the water,
Turquoise and blue and black, a song.
Lift the bucket and the turquoise is gone.
Reflected light, a dance on on the riffles.
It’s like the happiness for which we long.
Caught for a moment, containment stifles
the reflection of joy in our face and hearts.
The face that lights from music or dance
or a moment touched by another’s art.
Let joy come and go, take the chance.
The light on the water will be gone at night.
Joy wants to be free and not held too tight.

I heard the band The Winetree last September in Ohio.

Sonnet 17.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bucket.

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Sinecure

Sinecure

Sometimes patients are a mystery.

A relatively young man comes to see me.
Problems, a bit intricate, I type a thorough
history as we talk. I make suggestions
and he is to return in a few weeks.
He receives a copy of the note and plan
spit out by the printer.

He returns. There is a pain component.
He does not bring the journal I suggested.
He seems no better. I add a little to the plan
and suggest that he return again.

And again and again. Fourth visit. No journal.
“What have you tried that I have suggested?”
He replies, “I haven’t read your notes yet.”
“You haven’t read my notes yet? In three months?
I’ll tell you what: how about you return after
you read my notes and try some
of my suggestions. Why come in if you aren’t interested
in trying anything?” I do not go to rage.
It is not my problem. It is his problem.
If he doesn’t like the plan or doesn’t want to read
(yes he can read) or doesn’t want change,
that is his choice. Don’t waste my time.

He does not return.

It is a mystery. What did he want?
Why didn’t he tell me if he wanted something else?
If it was opiates perhaps he asked around
and decided I am the wrong “provider”
since I am very careful about those provisions.

A mystery. I wonder if it could have played out
differently. Then I let it go and move on.

_________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: sinecure.

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The weight of water

Sometimes water looks light and flighty in photographs, but here is Crocker Lake, with the water looking thick and deep. A mirror, inviolate. A surface that we can almost believe we can step on. Water IS heavy.

_________________________

The weight of water

You don’t realize the weight of water

I say I am a sea, deep, the emotions on the surface only
you dismiss me, female, lesser, emotional, unimportant
except for your uses. I should be receptive, listen, not speak.
You have no interest in my life, except when you want
my services.

You don’t believe me until the day
you look down and fall. The waters close
over your head. The weights you’ve tied
around your ankles carry you down down.
Welcome to the depths.

Welcome to the weight of water.

___________________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: thick.

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Refusing to yearn

Today I refuse categorically to yearn
I miss stupid things: that you rise early too
still this morning it’s annoying to learn
no one to talk to at the hour of stupid, no you
Impatient with my feelings, I wish you ill
hope you wake and want to whine and moan
hope you wake early and feel over the hill
but have to be quiet and grouse all alone
hope your mind buzzes like a hive of grumpy bees
while you spy on the internet and feel superior
hope you gather more facts piled like logged trees
and wonder why the piles don’t make you merrier
I hope you slowly open and become aware
you think you know everything and nobody cares

_____________________________

Sol Duc is playing a game alone, capturing her back foot with her front, claws out on both. When she realizes I am watching, she puts her head down and pretends to be asleep. She isn’t asleep, I can tell by the claws and the ear tilt.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: yearn.

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Cautionary tale

I climb in a flower gullet
That’s eaten by a horrid pullet
Then an eagle with a mullet
Grabs and flies with the wicked pullet!

The pullet’s dead, I must escape
I climb the warm wet red throat like tape
crawl out her beak, I’m on her nape
Staring down at a far landscape!

The pullet swings in the thermal’s rise
I can’t believe I am alive
The eagle soars and then she dives
A nest with fierce small beaks: a hive!

I jump as the eagle lands
her greedy children shout demands
they tear the pullet wing to gullet
while the eagle grooms her bloody mullet

I crawl through the nest and jump away
eaten and freed in just one day
to tell the tale for many days
of eagle mullet pullet gullet

___________________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: gullet.

Why doesn’t bullet rhyme? Words are weird.

I took the photograph in Michigan in 2017 in July, at my friend Maline’s garden.

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Sometimes wise

Sometimes the wisest thing to do
is to refuse to watch the news
to go for a walk alone
and then go quietly home

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: wise.

Quieting the sympathetic fight or flight state to the parasympathetic relaxed state: http://www.wisebrain.org/ParasympatheticNS.pdf.

This is one of the pieces Rainshadow Chorale is working on:

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The brim of the ocean

The beach is the brim of the ocean
we dabblers play at the rim
The tide overflows up the land
What to a whale is a sin?

We walk at the edge of the ocean
we run from the waves rolling in
we swim in the sea or float in a boat
What to a whale is a sin?

Leviathan live in the ocean
breech sprays to breathe at need
the brim of their home is the land
The sea is the place that they feed

The land is a tide to a whale
Boat islands sometimes approach
Do whales wander and wonder near land?
Wonder why land must encroach?

_____________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: brim.

I think I need a tune.

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Undulating ungulates

I wrote a poem titled alphabeasts quite a while ago.

The letters u, v, w, x are here:

Undulating ungulates
veer vivaciously 
wondering why whales
xerox xylophones

It turns out that whales and orcas and dolphins are ungulates, along with hoofed mammals. That is a surprise to me. Amazing what I learn regarding the Ragtag Daily Prompt.

Today the prompt is ungulate.

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Imprecation

imprecation

damnation

what a nation

what a notion

needs some lotion

or a potion

to awake

not be baked

by booze or sun

just no fun

we’re on the run

after the clock

time in hock

where are our socks?

get up woke

or you’ll get a poke

job loss no joke

worry re banks

sink or sank?

money there give thanks

worry heaps

til back asleep

falling deep

imprecation

what a nation

__________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: imprecation.

__________________

I was looking for a song with imprecation. I did not find one, but there is an infernal Texas horde (aka a band) named Imprecation. The band’s new album, Damnatio Ad Bestias will be the first since 2013’s Satanae Tenebris. Here:

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=yYOPr4SSSEo&list=OLAK5uy_mRyE2ZBb8s_LYFam77uMP76ayELbYtVd8
I did listen to a little. Maybe Elwha or Sol Duc is into infernal Texas death metal. Now, is Sol Duc begging me to keep it on or turn it off in the photograph?
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Intransitivity

Intransitive verb

Intransitive? But you know
sometimes it will snow snow
sometimes it will snow sleet
while I’m awake or when I sleep
it may be snowing sleet or snow
but really I’m not sure I know
if it can also sleet snow

_____________________

Intransitive

He’s intransitive, just so annoying
Intensitive bastard, good old boying!
Sentensitively prosing about bird wings!
Insentivizingly verbing almost all things!
So intransitive, just boycloying
Intensitive batshard, boyhowannoying!

_____________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: intransitive.

There is a red headed woodpecker in this picture, though it is not a very good shot. No, it’s not a red headed, they are east of the Rockies. A red breasted sapsucker? https://wildyards.com/woodpeckers-in-washington/