Tag Archives: poetry

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Control

If control is the goal
this is not love.
If I listen to others
yet don’t share myself,
this is not love.
If you hoard information about others,
this is not love.
If I reject people I can’t control,
this is not love.

If you have to be the smartest,
this is not love.
If I have to know the most,
this is not love.
If you keep everything secret,
this is not love.
If I share nothing with others,
this is not love.

Is it fear that keeps me from loving?
Is it anger that keeps you from loving?
Is it hate that keeps me from loving?
What keeps us from loving?

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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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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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Love sorrow

Love sorrow

There are a lot of people that I love

that don’t love me. The family that

believed my sister’s stories, about me,

my father, and her daughter’s father.

My sister died ten years ago.

I wait a decade, trying to repair it,

and now I give up. I do not want to

see them again, any of them, though

I still send them love. They may not

have my presence, after a decade of

cruelty or indifference.

Work, too. I am labeled malingerer

twenty years ago, after influenza.

“I don’t understand how you could be

out for two months from flu. I could understand

a heart attack or cancer, but not flu.”

Do you understand it now? I had

Long Covid before Long Covid existed,

after pneumonias: influenza, strep A

strep A and then Covid. Each time it

takes longer to recover. After the third round

and a year, I know that I have chronic fatigue.

I don’t bother my doctor as I am a doctor

and I know we have no cure. I can work

half time, see half the number that we are

supposed to see daily. I work anyhow.

The money ends almost meet. After a decade,

Covid closes me down. I go to work for The Man,

suspecting I’ll get pneumonia. I walk in rooms

to patients with their masks off. I react

with PTSD each time but take care of them

anyway. It only takes five weeks to get

Covid. I am on oxygen for a year and a half,

chronic fatigue magnified. How did I not get

it in my clinic? I masked everyone with a cough

or cold from 2014 on. My patients were USED

to masks and I masked too.

I am on oxygen and suddenly the doctors

who thought I lied, are pleasant and stop to

talk to me, while I think cynically, you’ve

disbelieved me and spread rumors about me

for 20 years. Do you think I forgive you now?

And one who said he’d be my friend forever

no matter what. And also said that when people

go over his invisible line, he never speaks

to them again. I think, oh, that will be me,

this is a set up. It is. But Beloved, Universe,

Earth, Sun, and Moon

why do I love them all anyway?

______________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt stable, because maybe love is the only stable thing in an unstable world.

The bones of the great blue heron are so light, that I think it is standing on the floating kelp beds. I’d wish my bones were that light, but that would be osteoporosis. Maybe I could come back as a heron.

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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.

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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

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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/

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Junction

Sometimes paths meet and we walk together for a while.

Still we are separate. Promises made, friends forever

and yet the path diverges, one person leaves. We

can’t see that in the future. I am wary of always and

never, I try not to use them. I will not promise friends

forever: addiction could drive me away or lies or betrayal.

I might still love. I might return to be present for death

but still, I will not say forever.

Because that is a lie.

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I took the photograph yesterday blind. We were on Marrowstone and could not see what was out in the water. It changed shape though. I took this zoomed all the way out and then still couldn’t see what was there until I downloaded the photographs. We thought it was a stick. Or a turtle. Then we wondered if there are turtles in the Salish Sea. I googled Salish Sea turtle and get this: https://www.epa.gov/salish-sea/marine-species-risk. That’s a bit sad. Read on down, though, because it lists seven things we can do to help.

No Salish Sea turtles though.

What about the Olympic Peninsula? Here: https://www.nps.gov/olym/learn/nature/amphibians-and-reptiles.htm. Not an ideal climate for reptiles, it says. Well, no, I agree. No turtles listed, but there are some other reptiles.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: junction.

And still, people are being found under the rubble alive, though far more dead. Prayers and praise for the searchers and the victims and families. A song for them: