January 2012
1 post
It is stark madness
To feel claustrophobia
In this universe.
December 2011
1 post
A Bird
Unexplained
In the salt meadow
Lay the dead bird.
The wind
Was fluttering its wings.
— Sheila Wingfield
November 2011
9 posts
Once I wondered why
Old folks walk so bent & slow.
Now I really know.
Blackbird in the rain -
Are you wet under feathers?
Is your heart as dark?
— Image from “1Q84”, Haruki Murakami
Morning wind & rain -
One lone coot bobs in the waves
Where once were hundreds.
You are a house fly
On this November morning.
Memento mori.
The wolves are silent.
In the depth of the forest
The moon is howling.
Go tell the mountain,
“Just meditate without me.”
I’ll climb up later.
Walking in deep woods,
Making love in pitch darkness
Escape right angles.
— After Poetbabble http://t.co/5CciiAFQ
October 2011
2 posts
Empty House
The Realtor’s sign
Slapping up against its post
In the Autumn wind
klindbeck:
Office allergy her third sneeze goes unblessed
August 2011
1 post
Spurned the ham sandwich
But ate each yellow jacket
That swarmed about it.
July 2011
3 posts
I asked my dog why
He’s enthusiastically
A dog and got licked.
“Water is H2O, hydrogen two parts, oxygen one,
But there is also a third thing,...”
– D. H. Lawrence - The Third Thing
Mocking bird above
Sings: “Repeat!” “Repeat!” “Repeat!”
Or is it “Replete!”?
June 2011
2 posts
klindbeck:
After dark the robin can’t stop singing in the rain
Tanka poem from "Gaijin Diary"
journalofanobody:
The telephone wire, heavy with hungry sparrows watching restlessly as, in slippers and robe, I sleepily fill their feeders.
—by the author of this blog.
For more, see http://www.tumblr.com/tumblelog/aki-no-niwa
May 2011
5 posts
morningporch:
Coffee in my left hand, I weed the herb bed with my right, muttering at the clover: out with you, foul sweetener! as my fingers turn black.
Far Now from Sendai: Five Haiku
journalofanobody:
Sakura open
even without me to see:
another spring gone.
**********
If I were still there,
I would take them for granted,
those soft clouds of pink.
**********
Counting lost springtimes
in a place beyond seasons,
they pass in my heart.
**********
Where a house once stood,
a jumble that was a life,
sakura flowers.
**********
I bend to retrieve
from the mud and...
At the dawn adhān
“Prayer is better than sleep.”
Wails from the towers.
Barefoot all summer -
Only children & elders
Tread the naked earth.
April 2011
5 posts
One thing is certain -
I’m now too old to die young,
Promises broken.
Jen Hicks - Morning Walking Song
I’m a...
Parting of the Ways
Trunk over the trail -
Girl dog leaps high above it;
Boy dog crawls beneath.
Trail Wandering
One babbling mind Pollutes the silent landscape - Or all just one song?
(Forgetting again to bring myself back to the dogs & the trail, I cut & fold these words to fit 17 syllables instead. Maybe I’m not responsible for the wandering But for remembering to come back home.)
To which my daughter Ariel responded:
quietly sitting no thoughts interrupt, just feel sunshine on...
Duck Estate
Two mallards stake out This fine potential nest site. Dogs rush by - No Sale!
(This duck couple is just standing in the rain. But do I know exactly what’s running through their minds?)
To which my daughter Ariel responded: Disgruntled quacks!
March 2011
9 posts
Intersection - Richard T. Rauch
There are in a crossroads four options: one ridden and known, one unpredictable, two opportunities —
slow corners anchored by a gas station, post office, convenience store, bank -
safe cliches backlit in relief against horizons — waiting
for the light to change, easing off the brake:
your turn.
Straight up in the air!
Nobody else flies like that —
First osprey of spring.
klindbeck:
I am not here but these red peppers are so I buy one
klindbeck:
**
Wind in the trees I want it to be louder than the traffic
**
My dog lifts his leg -
“Not on my camellia!”
Screeches the neighbor.
east wind
klindbeck:
Resisting this east wind moment: scarlet palm fruit scattered on the ground
*
East wind the wind chimes singing all day long
klindbeck:
After sunset a blue heron circles overhead wings of descending dusk
7 tags
Did you ever hike To become fond of your pack Inordinately? The heart is where the home is So long as the load is lite.
8 tags
Likely Epitaph
Tom Hobbes’ epitaph,
“… the true philosopher’s stone” -
Tomb bumper sticker.
February 2011
2 posts
morningporch:
A thumping in the crawlspace under the house and muddy footprints in the snow: the resident woodchuck is in heat. Rain drums on the roof.
klindbeck:
Some Small Stones
Cool sunset the peach ice cream clouds all fade to gray *
In the black silence between crickets and bird song your sleeping breath
*
this plastic container just the right size for taking a tail-less lizard outside and depriving the cats of their toy
*
This chipped mug from a broken set painted with irises from someone I love
*
A golden swirl of cirrus crosses...
January 2011
6 posts
8 tags
A Month After the Solstice
The sun stays longer.
The momentum of winter
Carries the dark chill.
6 tags
Espresso Synesthesia
Many times I’ve pressed the lever And watched the shot ooze from the spouts Like mellow honey lather; Counted breaths to time the shot, Neglected pangs of hopes and doubts - Each pull what another’s not. Pressure varies with the tamp (Too loose and I’ll fall clear through); To make each grain hot and damp. As this stroke wavered, lite or strong, Sweet or bitter shifted too In...
7 tags
Old Master Laotse
Was surnamed the “Long-Eared” -
Ancestor rabbit.
- (Ref: Kakuzo, Book of Tea, p39)
klindbeck:
The wavering rose of sunset on the pond for a breath it filled my tired mind with reflected light
8 tags
Cold enough to drift,
Snow blows horizontally -
Carolina pines.
7 tags
In the air, then down,
Spine against the iced porch deck -
Yanked by my leashed dog.
December 2010
7 posts
5 tags
We never stop dreaming.
There’s one root difference between asleep & awake:
In “wakeful consciousness” we modify,
sometimes nearly overlay,
our dreams with the input of our senses.
So the difference is:
When asleep we have no conscious sensation or control
of our bodies;
When we wake
our bodies feed us our sense of identity & reality.
We never stop dreaming.
8 tags
With my two dream dogs
I’m walking down the dream trail
On this bright dream day.
7 tags
Face in the mirror -
All of the old man creases
Are of bright laughter.
7 tags
My children, all three,
Are human beings in full bloom.
The angles rejoice.