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that’ll do nicely

November 5, 2012 Leave a comment

Tom to me (via Twitter): Could you send some daylight back this way?

Me to Tom (via Twitter): Can’t send that, but will this help? http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2012/11/03

Tom: That’ll do nicely!

Here’s the actual poem, The Fall Almost Nobody Sees, by David Budbill. Click the link to hear it read by Garrison Keillor.

Everybody’s gone away.
They think there’s nothing left to see.
The garish colors’ flashy show is over.
Now those of us who stay
hunker down in sweet silence,
blessed emptiness among

red-orange shadblow
purple-red blueberry
copper-brown beech
gold tamarack, a few
remaining pale yellow
popple leaves,
sedge and fern in shades
from beige to darkening red
to brown to almost black,
and all this in front of, below,
among blue-green spruce and fir
and white pine,

all of it under gray skies,
chill air, all of us waiting
in the somber dank and rain,
waiting here in quiet, chill
November,
waiting for the snow.

poem: pondering

October 18, 2012 Leave a comment

old dog
pondering
the first fallen leaf…

the quiet world

September 24, 2012 Leave a comment

I was playing around with the Poetry Foundation‘s smartphone app, where you can search for poems by subject or mood, or even use a roulette-wheel style randomizer, and I found this lovely poem that seems very relevant to our Twitter-oriented culture. (Even though it predates Twitter by 8 years.)

I agree with Nancy’s observation that this poem reminds her of when she and I were first dating long-distance :-).

The Quiet World by Jeffrey McDaniel (1998)

In an effort to get people to look
into each other’s eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn’t respond,
I know she’s used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

poem: still gets me home

April 27, 2012 Leave a comment

walking home

by the ugliest way

still gets me home

poem: dusty guitar

February 17, 2011 Leave a comment

the dusty guitar
leaning against the TV
by a well-worn remote

Sad, isn’t it? OK, more reading and guitar playing, and less TV-watching, is on the agenda.

moon viewing

September 25, 2010 Leave a comment

Two haiku I wrote at the autumn moon-viewing at the Portland Japanese Garden:

melancholy flute –
sunset reflected like fire
in distant windows

eyes closed –
murmuring voices
and the piercing flute

Can you tell I enjoyed the shakuhachi flute music? :-) The koto playing was amazing too.

The night was clear so it got dark quickly, even with the full moon. Resting my camera on a bamboo railing I was able to take a long-exposure picture of the path:

A hand-held long exposure of a five level lantern, just for fun:

poem: november roses

November 16, 2009 2 comments

november roses,
still blooming
as the maple leaves
gently fall
on the old broken birdhouse

(or as a haiku)

november roses
bloom as the maple leaves fall
on the old birdhouse