2 poems for a Friday in Lent
the ungood Friday
well through Lent
it could be Good Friday
since it is
the season so we’ll be associating
anyway
and this is an irony of good as
well
as there’s a featureless covering of gray
lacking definition
and for a word
would mean no meaning
gray to hear
gray inside as well
there is no joy under here
we scurry
rather
not like rats
rats scurry like us
a blank day without mercy like
that good
day
enacted
coming in two Fridays or so
above all other
word
the word is genesis
to tell the story
and
to have the story happen
first enacting
word that makes
that made
and keeps on creating
the word that is a person
and a telling
with
an action
all words subserve
as all matter underserves the perfect
omnipresent
a word
who is
such power in a unit of some letters
though from the alphabet
of God and should
there be another word
well
there could be three words
to realize
all others
and
by way of existing first
for all should offer meaning
as
words do
though taking care
as these words insist
and if you want
read
the first of John and following
aware of oddity regarding
words that
act
with nothing but the word
to make things happen
one little word shall fell him.
4 That Word above all earthly powers
no thanks to them abideth;
(translated) Martin Luther contending with “prince of darkness”
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photo by Ivan Aleksic on Unsplash
free verse + haiku
(current event; end of day)
board room
the war accompanied
by a board for peace
called
by someone who took billions of dollars
from people
to fund itself
we need this magic
instant gold as if a spell
sun cast for day’s end
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photo by Hasan Almasi on Unsplash
it’s a lovely day
gray if dull by promising
should the heart select
two enormous birds
predators of tan and brown
over the perished
nature doesn’t judge
often the quake or flood by
our instigation
amoral nature
save that flora and fauna
anywhere might weep
participation
nature allies death with life
relents the day’s night
creative life calls
work and play quotidian
sponsor something more
progress of haiku
no more than eased scenes required
nature bears wisdom
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a kind of progress beginning with looking outside (each should stand on its own as well)
photo by Manish Shah on Unsplash
a series of haiku in which nature is partnered with religion
devotion has it
we should love the Earth as God
has made all wondrous
breathing in and out
some days it’s hard for nature
thick by pollution
white and pink blossoms
Japan gives us cherry trees
to bloom in D.C.
shall the Earth give back
opens not what we deserve
receiving seasons
all the problems here
co-op of virtue and fall
first to third chapters
praying goes to God
not thought but by intention
doubt also received
responding to Claudius in Hamlet at 3.3.97-98
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photo by Yan Liu on Unsplash
cats are black watch out
we do get superstitious
Friday by number
it’s a pastel day
brushed colors as if painted
by the art-maker
it’s not that haiku are easier except physically to type; while sometimes impulsive, the content often takes as long if not longer than to set down more; I have a friend who says that of Mark, the gospel thought written first because it’s short; my friend (with a related PhD) realizes, as I understand from teaching composition, that writing down is harder than writing out
not that I command haiku (goodness, no); I simply try and learn and try
I’m still struggling for breath—yes, the process for inspiration, I suppose—but I mean literally; someday I’ll be living somewhere else with clearer air to get back some health, while the ongoing issues are the main ones that have to be ongoing (heart disease and such)
I hope each of you is well
thanks for your concerns expressed—and thanks to all of you always
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photo by Anton Ponomarenko on Unsplash
cat in London home
2 poems with one poem an expression of thanks then the other a preachy story
given means
someone brought me
food
and others cleared my car
and I imagine that I’ll
lose the space
as soon as I go somewhere
but
I’m thankful
I can eat
and I can move away
when
needed or desired
in the parable
these helpers would be sheep
though busy sheep
helpful
and loving
the givers have the designation
sheep
or goat
and I wonder what
the receivers
such as I might be
maybe
lambs
or kids
Matthew 25:31-46
the one arrives for whom there has been waiting
a story with a king
who dispenses justice
a righteous king
who
has the power with discretion
and the role
given
to play
and shall people be judged
by this wonder who could
be
man or woman
or those gender parts
in God
and so the king
metes
as if the word were ready for this one
alone and
throughout
time
and a throne is
set
the the judgment happens simply
you were me and in
need
and these came to help you
though they needn’t
have known you and you had comfort
even
more life to give
and for the metaphor
I call the helpers
sheep as I
frankly
am the shepherd
and sorry for goats
to call the others goats
and
I guess goats are famous for consuming
and
these goats to judge as people
keeping all
if by degree and giving nothing
not
what would have been easier to share
let alone what might have
been harder
to share
and I must welcome sheep
then
outcast the goats
not
for species judgment
except for those of you
people
whom I made
to whom I gave
but chose
not
to give back or out
toward loving benefit of others
so I judge
and so it is as it was
set
so long ago just after Eden
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same verses
photo by Jay Gomez on Unsplash
2 haiku for Minnesota
what is it we need
the warmth of peace most of all
Minnesota iced
know there’s loss of life
anger with the fear in that
to pray and protest
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photo by Blake Harbison on Unsplash
Lake Superior Lighthouse
Minnesota, United States
names
Our Lady has a day
Juan Diego anglo named
she gave him roses
(12 December, Our Lady of Guadalupe)
I am Christopher
bearer of Christ and walking
hundred-acre woods
your name is your name
assigned you for a reason
there is a story
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(a series, I suppose, though I think each poem stands on its own)
there are good stories [a line while drafting that I thought I’d let stay on the page]
photo by Aida Batres on Unsplash
two poems for Thanksgiving narratology
[narratology = dealing in story (sorry)]
this Thanksgiving
(mutuality)
say
find something to be thankful for
still here
a body
with a spirit inside
a mind
if the high point of that arc
was a long time ago
and everything’s been gradual
since
then
the bandage from last blood test
fell off
somewhere
hopefully not
to create a gross moment for someone
for me
the continuation of a series
gross
if bloody
that began with the first heart attack
or with
fall off the sofa when I was
four or so
and
there was a pool on the hardwood floor
that I could see
this is the past
highlights
or
lowlights
and how do you remember things
your own time
with time
nature
others
your own inventions on your own
and when dealing in
perception based on how others
treated you
that part of the play
when
Eliza says she is a duchess
because Pickering treats him
that way
and
there is
how we treat ourselves
now add the theme of thanks
for the day
Pygmalion/My Fair Lady (cited)
starspeak
and where is God in this
and sad
if not tragic
to
have to ask
maybe it’s because there are no easy
answers on the planet
except the gift
of
itself
in the cosmos
either
except to look with whatever combination
of our senses
to wonder
to measure
too
if there are no numbers for the wonder
we say
in certain liturgies
that
a star is coming
though they’re not supposed to be
loosed from their places
there’s that
wonder
the exercise to call it something else
by which it’s easier
or
to admit there is no knowing
and so let it unbound
unidentify its place
except it flies
and
also famously arrives
with a doctrinal purpose
but that we also leave it
simply as
astounding
also passage in an
extraordinary
narrative
that might beg belief
while
not insisting on its truth
on
what it represents
like the fictive guess
in “The Sentinel”
in which
Arthur Clarke invents a dying star
with
sentient civilization ‘round it
its last explosion
seen over the skies by
magi
of western Asia
and we could write our stories
too
as well as listen to what’s
set
and shared each season though off-season
makes your guesses
takes your chances
give
other versions a chance
allow imagination
serving
as an ironic stretching as a building-up
of credibility
“The Sentinel” is a short story by Arthur C. Clarke. The story is said to be the inspiration for his and Stanley Kubrick’s 2001. (Clarke having written that novel for and from the film.)
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Happy Thanksgiving! which should be a day of thanks for all, everywhere—or of hope for such with those in unthanking situations. (Sorry, need to bring up both.)
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