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Taiwan Earthquake

Taiwan Earthquake

Earthquake in Taiwan
Souls are trapped
In falling buildings
Still falling

I might not last
Through rescue tries,
For my soul must be
In open space

And that’s simply personal

Not rising yet to singe the skin
The surrender of
So many lives

And living the rest:
Not any victim’s future
Understanding that
Life has
Security

World, respond

Save and stay to help,
Rebuilding human sanctity

Gender Mutilation

Gender Mutilation
(against FGM)

If justly turned around
Pleasure will be erased
In the journey of
Humanity

Men, awake

Not because men are
Called to save the
Lady in tower

But are signaled
To remain below
To lift from the mire

Of earth an ownership
Of villainy

C L Couch
(http://www.theguardian.com/society/2016/feb/06/ban-ki-moon-end-female-genital-mutilation-fgm-guardian-campaign?utm_source=esp&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=GU+Today+USA+-+Version+CB+header&utm_term=155343&subid=16706344&CMP=ema_565b)

Meanings

(from a photo-prompt of cows; photo by Annie Spratt)

 

Meanings
(nebby is evidently a Pittsburgh expression,
a compressing of neighborly and nosey)

definition of a cow: trying to be a horse
of a dog: doesn’t understand the diplomacy of cats
of a cat: one who perceives dogs as pointless

definition of a child: not a miniature adult
of a parent: nervous the length of child-life
a soldier: serving with all there is

definition of democracy: each one matters
of an earth: that without which we do not live
of God: maker; providentially nebby

Journaling at the Start of 5 February

Journaling at the Start of 5 February

Added coffee to the canister. Drank from a
Mouthwash bottle nearly empty with a full one
Beside. Same with toothpaste, when it’s time.
These small abundances matter much.

It’s a bunch of days. So the television tells me.
Something to do with weather, with a kind of
Food, and with the heart. Maybe something pre-
Valentine’s. I slept five or six hours, which is not
Enough. I slept under a throw, which is not enough
Though better than a blanket making me too hot.

Too hot in winter. (In a cold-winter clime.) That
Should be a blessing.

Rescue

Rescue

The Coast Guard in alliance
With Texas Parks and Wildlife
Rescues six (among these, two
Children) from a sinking ship
Off the shore, out into the
Sea-like water, near Corpus
Christi (a city named for
A savior)

It happened—it really, really
Happened—and it will take
Place again

There is good news

And, somewhere near you
And me, there is good news
As well

Duck

(my brief cycle of nature poetry,
fractured and otherwise, ends
with this animated entry; maybe
I have been stir-crazy or simply
become, you know, duck soup)

 

 
Duck

I know there’s Aflac
And classic Disney Donald

But I tend to think
On Daffy of Looney Tunes

(TM and circle-R, I’m sure
And circle C for these icons)

Remember when he
Wanted to be rich (well,

That would be always)
And then he angered a

Genie?—in the final scene,
Bugs Bunny opens up an

Oyster, discovering a
Pearl; then a transformed,

Tiny Daffy runs up Bugs’s
Arm, cradles the pearl under

The ceiling of the shell
And, while the shell (and the

Episode) is closing, mutters in
A high pitch to himself,

“I am a wealthy miser.”
Now, children of any age,

Aren’t those words
To live by?

That’s all.
Folks.

Keystone Groundhog’s Day

Keystone Groundhog’s Day

Tomorrow—that’s 2 February—
Is, well, Groundhog’s Day

And since I am in Pennsylvania,
Maybe I should say something
(Maybe not)

The groundhog is a creature
With variants: prairie dogs out
West (USA), like Texas
Armadillos in attitude and in
Treatment, so I’m told

Nuisance-being that somehow
Makes a hole we all attend to
On this day

Origins are fought over (the day,
That is, not the groundhog
Itself, made in the perfect,
Chortling humor of the mind
Of God), though likely it’s a time
And rite of spring brought up
Into present cultural moment

There is a town, and here it is
(Here’s how it’s spelled)

Punxsutawney (too bad—Spell-
Check defeated me again, this
Year by only one letter)

Here in top hats people (not
The beast—and I don’t know
Why anyone wears the hats)
Will withdraw the toothy animal
From its artificial den atop a
Hill in or near the town (pardon
Me, the borough, there being
No towns in Pennsylvania,
Municipally speaking, save one
Town for another day)

And then winter’s prophecy-
Predictor takes over the day via
Shadow—and that’s all

But I like the day because, unlike
Christmas or Easter or Thanksgiving
Or Memorial Day, we have not
Wrecked this one

There are no Groundhog-Day cards
(I know of), so you must make your
Own—and thus enjoy the day (or

Maybe not) in whichever way you
Groundhog-like

(Legend has it that on this morning, if a groundhog can see its shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter. If it cannot see its shadow, spring is on the way. InfoPlease.com.)


ShenandoahNPS / Foter.com / CC BY via Google Images

Mammoth Find

Mammoth Find

Something fantastic was
Found under OSU—now,
In my part of the land,
OSU stands for “The”
Ohio State

Here, however, we’re
Talking about Oregon,
Where by the way members
Of my family have
Attended

Though none ten thousand
Years ago, which is the
Counting of this find—
Generally, we (and I
Mean you and me) were
Around as early wanderers

And inhabitants and so
Might have run from the
Massive body of the bones,
When enfleshed and nature-
Armed, we have now
As a mammoth—you
Know, the woolly kind

We’d have eventually
Turned and hunted down
The one in stone calcified
That we treasure now

Free away from
Primal scenes and needs
We may make friends
And maybe make amends

With its bones dryly,
Comfortably
Without tooth and claw
To rend in red our fragile
Skin

We (less bravely, perhaps)
May say:

Welcome, Ice-Age ally, to
Our better art and science

(“Nature, red in tooth and claw”—In Memoriam, Tennyson)

Willow, on Three Legs

Willow, on Three Legs

Willow, on three legs—
A wolf, one leg ruined
In a trap

Willow protected now
In sanctuary

We had a feline with
Three legs, one leg
Caught in a trap

She was purebred,
And the vet reasoned
That, once marred in
The trap, the cat
Could not be shown
For ribbons and so
Was discarded

My sister gave the
Siamese an exotic
Name, Scheherazade
(“Shahrazad,” the teller
Of one thousand plus
One tales, the tyrant’s
Wife who lives), and
For seventeen years
We lived with her

She was a gentle cat
Except for one trait:
She was the best
Birder in the cat pride
We kept then

Tragedy turned cat-
Happy life (well, not
So much for certain
Birds): Well done!

Well told,
Scheherazade

May Willow live as
Happily and as whole

(Willow introduced
To me, as with so
Many things, on PBS)

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