Tuesday, November 20, 2018
Random November (23)
Random November (22)
from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Dead Cottonwoods
THE POET 11-12-18 (7)
The poet like a man
with a hammer cracking
rocks. Sometimes he finds
it's only common granite.
Sometimes it shines like
sun in all directions.
You cannot know until
the stone is broken.
Monday, November 19, 2018
Random November (21)
Oh, yes,
the water
still loves
the wind
and will
until
winter
chills and
smooths it.
Then the
wind will
love what
water
has become.
Random November (20)
November's
code, something
secret
from the sun,
grey, of course,
lonesome.
We worry
we have lost
too much,
yet we don't
know what, or
when, or
what it means.
We don't know
whether
we should
even begin
again.
from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: What Measure
What measure
but my stride,
the ravens'
dark flight,
the cottonwoods
holding to
what they know
of water.
WHAT IS THIS 11-12-18 (8)
What is this
that we cannot
say, out beyond
where words are
uttered. Not
silence, not
emptiness,
the fullness
of wonder.
As if love
and loss live
at the edge,
with hope
between them.
Sunday, November 18, 2018
Random November (19)
Random November (18)
The monarch
butterflies
crossing
the border
south of here,
how the wind
has loved them,
how they
love the wind.
from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: October Moment
CHINESE LANDSCAPE IN WISCONSIN: NOVEMBER
All the grasses tend to bend
the same in wind -- no reason
not to. Bending is the choice
to make when you have the earth
to hold to and the power
of wind is only passing.
Saturday, November 17, 2018
Random November (17)
Random November (16)
from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: The Poet Examines His Method
NIGHT. DARKNESS
Night. Darkness
wants to take
this old house.
Cold abounds
now, in late
November.
Wind pushes
at the eaves.
What assures
is knowing
this is what
we've chosen:
the warmth of
light shows out
the window,
tells the world
this is so.
Friday, November 16, 2018
Random November (15)
Random November (14)
from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Sounds
The sound of a jet
overhead, of cattle
in their pasture.
Wind in the small grass,
you can hear that, too,
if you listen.
I SING LIKE
Thursday, November 15, 2018
Random November (13)
from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: And Shall I Walk?
And shall I walk
this walk tomorrow?
And shall I see
the world still shining?
Will I hear
the birds, the sound
of water moving
towards winter?
And if I don't, I did.
The birds know,
the water knows.
That's enough.
MONKS CHANTING
Wednesday, November 14, 2018
Random November (12)
Random November (11)
from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Chance Upon
Chance upon
the river.
Chance upon
the dead cow
the coyotes
have opened.
Chance upon
the moment
when truth
kind of stinks.
OLD POET SELF-EXAMINATION
Even after
a lifetime
he doesn't
understand
what it is
he is. And
how can he?
He's always
last to know.
