Tuesday, June 30, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 30

Wet sky
keeps the crow

low. No
place to go

today, no
place to come

home from.


Monday, June 29, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 29

Your riches mean
nothing to me.

My nothing
enriches

both of us.


Friday, June 26, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 26

Stone.

The earth
works

water
and air,

the fire
of light.

Sand.


Thursday, June 25, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 25

I turn down
the news,

turn away,
listen for

the wisdom
of my

own heart.


Wednesday, June 24, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 24

Sundog,
like the hope

of light.


Tuesday, June 23, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 23

A web of branches
catching wind.

What holds us?


Monday, June 22, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 22

Thick light on a dull
day. Too warm for much

of anything – some
beer in the shade and

a good stretch of
doing nothing.


Friday, June 19, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 19

Today,
broken-handled

cup of wind.
Tomorrow,

torn silk.
Last night,

darkness
all the way

home.


Thursday, June 18, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 18

Another redwing, like
an unhappy soldier.


Wednesday, June 17, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 17

A kick of
wind in the face,

the surprise
of morning.


Tuesday, June 16, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 16

In the rearview

mirror

water like sky.


Monday, June 15, 2009

UPDATE: CONSEQUENCES

Another post has been added to the ongoing online game of Consequences I have participated in. Each successive entry begins with the closing lines of its predecessor. Entries are 250 words long, and are linked thematically. The postings in the series to date are these:

Consequences #1 - No Man Is an Island: Hydragenic.
Consequences #2 - Entire of Itself:
Patteran Pages.
Consequences #3 - A Part of the Main:
Porous Borders.
Consequences #4 - To Belong:
The Middlewesterner.
Consequences #5 - Be-longing:
Feathers of Hope.
Consequences #6 - Expats, or: La Vie En Rosé: Blaugustine.

As additional posts go up, I will update this log at my earliest convenience. Enjoy!


LINES FOR JUNE 15

A gauze of sky
hides the distance

the hawk would watch.


Friday, June 12, 2009

CONSEQUENCES 4: TO BELONG

Sometimes it is the flame that goes out, looking for the moth.

Sometimes, writing the poem, I am terribly alone.

Sometimes I need to belong, need the companionship found in being part of a band, need the kind of conversation that music is. I need to play root and fifth to the guitar's flatted seventh.

What is to belong? "Long" is from a root meaning "to go along with." "Be" means "completely." When you play bass in a band, you lay foundation for the music. You go along completely, because the other instruments come with you; they are going, by devious path, where you are going. Even when you cut loose, especially then, you make a promise to always be there, in the right place at the right time: that is the bass-player's compact with his companions.

I have more trouble in my role writing lyrics for our songs. I think the words in some way represent who I am; if the words are changed, somehow I am changed. A fellow sets my words to music. Another fellow sings them. Like me, they believe the song represents who they are.

Sometimes they want changes, so lyrics and music belong more completely to one another. Do I go along? Not always. Yes, words and music must fit each other. Yet sometimes the words have made other promises; thus is poetry an inferior art. And thus, seeking to belong, sometimes I find myself strangely silent.

Only the music belongs completely to itself.

_____________________
(This is the fourth post in an ongoing online game of Consequences. Each successive entry begins with the closing lines of its predecessor. Entries are 250 words long, and are linked thematically. The postings in the series to date can be found as follows:

Consequences #1 - No Man Is an Island: Hydragenic.
Consequences #2 - Entire of Itself:
Patteran Pages.
Consequences #3 - A Part of the Main:
Porous Borders.
Consequences #4 - To Belong:
The Middlewesterner.
Consequences #5 - Be-longing:
Feathers of Hope.
Consequences #6 - Expats, or: La Vie En Rosé:
Blaugustine.


LINES FOR JUNE 12

A hawk
broad of wing
above.

I touch
its shadow,
or it

touches me.


Thursday, June 11, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 11

Ah, hawk.
Ah, rough

sunlight
on it.


Wednesday, June 10, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 10

"There's
only

so much
juice,"

the poet
says,

"and then
you're

empty.
You can

keep writing
but you

won't
say much."


Tuesday, June 09, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 9

"Ah," the poet says,
"the silence is

rich with story."


Monday, June 08, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 8

"They are
not their

names,"
the poet

says.
"They are

the things
themselves."


Friday, June 05, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 5

"Stand there,"
the poet says.

"Be patient.
Just wait.

They will come.
They will take

your breath away."


Thursday, June 04, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 4

"They are,"
the poet says,

"just words,
just shapes

the mouth
makes, just

air."


Wednesday, June 03, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 3

"Don't force it,"
the poet says.

"The poem does not
answer to fear."


Tuesday, June 02, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 2

"I don't know,"
the poet said.

"I just listen
when they speak.

Don't you
hear them?

They are all
around us.

The sky is
thick with them.

Shut your
pie-hole

and you too
will hear them."


Monday, June 01, 2009

LINES FOR JUNE 1

Words
rise like hawks

flirting
with thermals.

The poet
speaks.


This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?