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May 2016

This Is What I Care About

This Is What I Care About

 

This is what I care about

Family—three brothers, sister,

Brother-in-law, sisters-in-law,

Too

 

Niece and nephews, two

Children in the next generation

Four dogs for now, no cats

I know of (since mine died)

 

Friends—those who have

Work and those who need it,

Who are healthy and who

Struggle to get through the

Day without so much pain

 

Neighbors—those who make

Up my community and those

Who try to disfigure it

 

Peace that hardly yet prevails

Love and grace that it might

Abound

 

God who doesn’t need me

But regards me as one part

Of creation, anyway

 

And you

 

For so many reasons

 

For I know that you care, too

10

No Time for Corruption

No Time for Corruption

 

Hell, no time for disagreement

The Kurds need recognition

Identification as a community

Militias need discipline

 

If they’re going to exist at all

Iraq needs to find its center

If it’s going to overwhelm ISIS

And not defeat itself

 

What do we do, we from the

Outside?

 

We have resources, maybe we

Have time, we have perspective

 

More importantly, we can care

 

Stratagems and de-stabling

Agendas aside, sixty-six persons

Died—were killed—in a bombing

In Sadr marketplace

 

I know we don’t know this place

We might not know how to say

It

 

But sixty-six

 

How many families is that

 

I swear, we should invoke the

Real Isis, god of wisdom and

Brother to the god of the dead

 

Let her sort it out, if we cannot

Find the wisdom in ourselves

 

 

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/may/11/baghdad-car-bomb-kills-dozens-sadr-city?utm_source=esp&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=GU+Today+USA+-+morning+briefing+2016&utm_term=171647&subid=16706344&CMP=ema_a-morning-briefing_b-morning-briefing_c-US_d-1

8

Young Frankenstein

Young Frankenstein

 

This phrase came to mind

Out of the season’s time:

When the veil fails, speaking

Of Hallowe’en

 

This is what those of ancient

Lore believed—that gossamer-

Iron webs and steel-misty

 

Vapors held the other side

On a spellbound, ritualed

Line

 

Except for

 

This one time each year

 

I don’t know what this means;

The child in me didn’t

Care

 

I dressed colorfully, unusually

 

Looked through eyeholes

Of masks sweated ’round

The fabric on my face

 

I was young and relatively

Free

 

To run my neighborhood

 

Receiving chocolate reward

For feeling the thrill of cool

Air as more night rushed

Over my skin,

 

Through folds in costumes,

 

The faster that I moved

7

Seasonings

Seasonings

 

Winter was hard

Not because I was cold

But impoverished in

Other ways

 

The white was too much

Too tall, too unusual

For me, anymore

 

I live in the southern part,

Now, of the state

(Okay, a northern state)

And don’t expect such

Walled-off weather

Often, if at all

 

It was anxiety; I took

A pill, and pretended

That would be enough

 

Now spring is here

I wonder which came first:

The verb or the season’s

Name

 

I could look it up

But I’m not sure that

Would tell me

 

Ancient stories, after

All, have variants

 

Winter and summer

Are, as coined by my folk-

Literature teacher,

Hilda Kring—they are

Characternyms

 

We know what they

Are because value

And form make sound

Thar tell us

 

But the other two,

Spring and fall, might be

Named for what they

Do—or what we do is named

For what they’ve done,

First and longer

 

We’ll, I’ll spring

 

Then you and I, we’ll

Summer (because

We know what

That means), and then

 

Let’s drop like leaves

Of fall, onto an Earth

Softened by snow

And ice, dew and rain,

 

And the gentle

Wearying

Of all other

Seasons

 

 

(Hilda Kring was a professor of

folklore and folk-literature at

my college, while I was a student

there; she made the term

“characternym” for names of

characters who sounded like what,

in depiction, they were, such

as Uriah Heep in David Copperfield

–and maybe Copperfield

himself; she requested someone

to publish this term for her and to

her credit–and here is my try,

“characternym” from Doctor Hilda Kring)

13

Cosmology

Cosmology

(who we are, materially)

 

I look away

Not always with my eyes

And I think

 

I cannot see my thought

I cannot see yours

Though I might fancy

In the expression of your

Eyes, your face, your

Body lines

 

That I know something about

What’s going on inside

Of you

 

And if you want something

(Hopefully good) from

Me

 

And I can become

Frustrated knowing that the

Container of my thoughts

Is simply this body

Nothing more

 

How do we get together

How do I get myself

Over to you

 

Maybe I don’t

At least not for now

Somehow electric thought

Remains inside flesh

And form, which

Move if my synapses

Are moving

 

For the better day

When we can do better

Than this to have,

To hold each other

10

Null Island

Null Island

 

It’s busy but does not exist

Zero-zero for map-keepers

 

Center of everything and

Nothing

 

Ever have the feeling?  If so,

There might be some real

Estate for you

 

Real?—well, estate as in

Old echelon of society

 

This one’s all yours, since

No one can possess it

 

Yes, mine, too

 

 

null-island-2

www.atlasobscura.com

 

Null Island is an imaginary island located at 0°N 0°E (hence “Null”) in the South Atlantic Ocean. This point is where the equator meets the prime meridian.

(source Atlas Obscura)

7

Work in Process

Work in Progress Process

 

Blank page awaits

No, it doesn’t wait on me—it’s a

Blank page

It doesn’t do anything

 

But I do

When inspired

Wait—must I wait for that?

 

It’s a process, you know

Discovery and meaning

I might not have just now

 

I might have them later

When in composing

Something happens

 

It’s here—hang on, it’s

Coming

On the way, I’m sure

 

And maybe with regret

I’m late waiting for Godot

The sun sets on my day

 

But wait—the

Breath of day is ending

Yet exhale and breathing-in of

Night is more inspiring!

 

 

(Waiting for Godot, a play by Samuel Beckett)

12

Mother and Father

Mother and Father

(on hearing five of the Solomons

have sunk due to rising sea water)

 

Once and once again

There was a child

The child is Earth

And we are her protectors

 

We are the parents

Of the Earth (earth and

Air and water)

 

For our children

Whom we leave

The planet of our future

10

Favoring Neighborly Respect

Favoring Neighborly Respect

(greetings with a sigh from USA)

 

We’re not all like Dwayne Wade

Canada is our neighbor, deserving

Of respect

 

And you are liked

 

There is enough to contend with

 

Fire, life of First Nations, economy,

And government—correlations in

USA

 

Antics courtesy of the NBA are

Neither needed nor liked nor

Incumbent here

 

We are friends—maybe we will

Match our amity in action, as

We do in many things

 

But, as with national songs, a

Kinship should be lifted,

Celebrated, and served, O

Canada:

 

The land of hope for all who toil,

The true North strong and free!

 

Thank you for forbearing,

From your friend

12

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