Monday, May 31, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 31

How
many days

can be
this grey?


Sunday, May 30, 2010

THREE from
THE OLD POET SAYS


“You can't plan
what to write,

but you can
come prepared.”

*

“Am I lost
if I wonder

where I am?”

*

“You have
biscuits and gravy

and still you need
inspiration?”


Saturday, May 29, 2010

THREE from
THE OLD POET SAYS


“With your going,”
he said, “consider

how many miles
per poem.”

*

“What? - you think
silence

will stop me?”

*

“You've said enough
about the poem, if

you've said nothing.”


Friday, May 28, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 28

Broad
wings of the hawk,

bright
eyes, her terrible

claws.


Thursday, May 27, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 27

Barns and
churches,

the places
that farmers

do their
business

with God.


Wednesday, May 26, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 26

So sad
some days

you can't
even

put your
pants on.


Tuesday, May 25, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 25

Wind, like
water

disturbing
the edge

of things.


Monday, May 24, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 24

Pushing sun.
Curve of road.

Turn. Turn
again.


Sunday, May 23, 2010

THREE from
THE OLD POET SAYS


“The poet's
deity,”

he said,
“would be

a craggy-
faced God,

rough-handed,
fierce,

without much
mercy.”

*

“You run a lot of
make-ready,” he said.

“Poetry is only
efficient

after the fact.”

*

“This is
a waste,”
he said,

“yet I must
waste it.”


Saturday, May 22, 2010

THREE from
THE OLD POET SAYS


“Go ahead,”
he said,

“read your
long poem.

I can take
a snooze.”

*

“Left to themselves,
rivers and poets

have wandering souls.”

*

“The roughness of God,”
the poet said, “is

my kind of wisdom.
Batter me, Lord.”


Friday, May 21, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 21

Restless sleep,
dreams of wild
horses running

away.


Thursday, May 20, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 20

Rock, paper, scissors.
Sadness trumps hunger.


Wednesday, May 19, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 19

Slide under
the darkness;

turn towards
morning's

sharped edge.


Tuesday, May 18, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 18

Crazy
trees in the switch-

back wind.


Monday, May 17, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 17

Sudden slap
of morning light

and hard wind
breaking the

silence.


Sunday, May 16, 2010

THREE from
THE OLD POET SAYS


“Turn or do not
turn, but don't

talk of turning.”

*

“A bad poem,
like a hand grenade -
you must

fall on it
to spare
your buddies.”

*

“We are beasts.
Why

do we do
noble things?”


Saturday, May 15, 2010

THREE from
THE OLD POET SAYS


“Dig a ditch.
Write a poem.
Make something

happen.”

*

“You never get there looking
back over your shoulder.”

*

“Enough,”
the poet said,

“of your rude
hammering.”


Friday, May 14, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 14

A pushback day.
Wind in my hair.


Thursday, May 13, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 13

Is it

water,
sky?

Is it

what,
why?


Wednesday, May 12, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 12

Tssst of tires
on wet asphalt,

insistence
of a slipped

season.


Tuesday, May 11, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 11

Fit of rain,
this morning,

and the grey
bucket all day.


Monday, May 10, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 10

Flash of blue
bird. Oh, blue

of blue bird!


Sunday, May 09, 2010

THREE from
THE OLD POET SAYS


“You can never
say enough

to explain your
nakedness.”

*

“Don't force
the words.

You will
break some-

thing and
it will

be lost
forever.

Better
to wait

and catch
its shadow.”

*

“How long, O Lord,
must I endure?

How long must I
write these words?”


Saturday, May 08, 2010

THREE from
THE OLD POET SAYS


“Work it hard,
your poem-maker,

but do not break it.”

*

“Ah,” he said, “if only we
could write poems that would

get us arrested.”

*

“Like a girl with nothing
on but a smile,” he said,

“whatever you call it,
a poem is trouble.”


Friday, May 07, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 7

Water in the ditch.
Crow in the gravel
along the road.

Spring now seems
a possibility.


Thursday, May 06, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 6

Sky crowds the earth.
Trees
split the difference.


Wednesday, May 05, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 5

The river
runs high and fast.

Follow your heart.


Tuesday, May 04, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 4

Grey chunk of dead beast.
Fog for hundreds of miles.
Disappointment like cold soup.

Which way is home?


Monday, May 03, 2010

LINES FOR MAY 3

The world
closes in again,

too much, too soon.
Fog hugs the road.

I'll find my way
through sadness.


Sunday, May 02, 2010

THREE from
THE OLD POET SAYS


“I am,” the poet
said, “a blind man

begging at the gate.”

*

“Nothing
at heaven's gate

is too much.”

*

“Poets, like crows -
first they eat the eyes.”


Saturday, May 01, 2010

THREE from
THE OLD POET SAYS


“If I did not
drive," he said,


I could not
write.”

*

“To keep
leaving

eventually
is to be

returning.
Going away

becomes
coming home.”

*

“Ah, yes, always
more blank paper

than things to say.”


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