Tuesday, January 22, 2019

RANDOM JANUARY - (20) 


The pale
first light,

like hope.
You can't

know what
the day

will bring.



RANDOM JANUARY - (19) 


Moonlight
that was on

the water
is on

the ice now.
Nothing is

the same and
everything

is.



from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Like Coyote 


Like Coyote
Crow is
thankful

for sweet
dead things.
Eating is

praying
in both their
languages.



INSTRUCTION TO THE POET 


Tell
enough

but not
too much.

Let them
find their

own way
home.



Monday, January 21, 2019

RANDOM JANUARY - (18) 


January light.
Like Joni says,

You don't know
what you've got

til it's gone.
Yet the wheel

of stars turns
and keeps on.



RANDOM JANUARY - (17) 


January
wind and snow.

You know
what you want

but you're not
going to

find it here.



RANDOM JANUARY - (16) 


Who walks
his way

this grey
day walks

his way
home.

Old man
follows

his own
tracks back.


from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Faith and Fact 


The sun
works the frost
on the grass

whether
the grass
believes

in science
or not.



WHEN FINALLY 


When finally
that which

had no bones
has bones --

the poem.



Sunday, January 20, 2019

RANDOM JANUARY - (15) 


The pale wash
of dawn

light among
the cedars,

as cold as
small birds,

their lost color.



RANDOM JANUARY - (14) 


You think
"lonely

as that
far star"

and then
you see

the sky.



from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Lesson Along the Keya Paha 


Patience
like the river
working its way.



SPEAKING TO THE STARS 


I want to be
a witness, to say

here in this part
of the immenseness,

yes, something was.



Saturday, January 19, 2019

RANDOM JANUARY - (13) 


The moon is
only half

a promise.



RANDOM JANUARY - (12) 


Ah, tenderness.
The river

washing away
its meander

where all things
turn.



from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Praying 


When they go to church,
I go to the river.



RANDOM JANUARY - (11) 


Winter wind
against the house.

We hold
each other.



POET'S QUESTION 


How to
leave
meaning

without
bald
statement?

You know
it's
never

easy,
not
as sweet

as some
will
promise,

this work
which
doesn't

always
work
out quite

right.



Friday, January 18, 2019

RANDOM JANUARY - (10) 


Sheered light
across the field.

One crow
against the wind.

All the world
shows in this,

which is what
love is like.



RANDOM JANUARY - (9) 


Dust
the color
of snow.

Snow
the color
of light.

Everything
disappears

into the day's
desire.



RANDOM JANUARY - (8) 


Wind
as lonely as
winter birds.

All they have
is want.



THE GATHERING 


And they came from
the mountains, the
mountain poets. They
came from the river,
from the plains. Old
men and old women,
younger ones, those
just learning their
gift. They came from
every age, singing.
They did not know
each other but were
sisters, brothers. They
spoke a thousand
languages, more, yet
as poets seem to,
they understood.



from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: The Keya Paya 


What is important
and what is not --

the river sorts it.



Thursday, January 17, 2019

RANDOM JANUARY - (7) 


Pine trees in wind.
The sounds only
the dying hear.



RANDOM JANUARY - (6) 


What of
these hands

which hold,
let go,

like my
father's.



from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: All the Way 


All the way
home I bring

the stillness
with me,

within me.



THE POET'S LONELINESS 


The loneliness, one
poet wanting
to address all
the others, English-

speaking and every
language, on every
living planet
of every far

star, where they have
been pushed into
wonder and find

themselves alone,
alone and looking
this way for solace.



Monday, January 14, 2019

RANDOM JANUARY - (5) 


The quiet
this evening,
as if

the monk's bowl
is singing.



from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: What You Need 


What you need,
the world has

along this river
or any other.

You must want it.



CUTTING POTATOES 


Cutting potatoes
and not potatoes,

cutting thumb and
thumbnail deep

enough the blood
won't stop. Flesh gasps --

the insult, sharp
steel and motion.



Sunday, January 13, 2019

RANDOM JANUARY - (4) 


The cream
of light

on snow.
Winter's

beauty.
Beauty

is not
much

comfort.



RANDOM JANUARY - (3) 


Finches
and sparrows

fluffed
against cold.

They feed
on the ground.

The wind.
The grey sky

offers
no solace.



EVENING COMES 


The light fails.
Evening comes,
the quiet
darkness which

harbors us.
The sound of
wind, the sound
of the train

pulling hard
through town. All
of us do

what we must.
And the heart
wants to stay.



from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Leaving the Keya Paha 


And now a crow
and not those coyotes

leading me home.
Another kind of loss.



Friday, January 11, 2019

RANDOM JANUARY - (2) 


Arms
at her side,

her naked
breasts

before her.
All

these years,
the love.



THE SKY DOES NOT 

I have a recent poem up at Independent Variable. Take a look:

https://independentvariable.co.uk/the-sky-does-not/

RANDOM JANUARY - (1) 


Sometimes
I say

heart
when I mean

heat.
That which

pumps
pumps hard.



from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: The Grass Is Frosted 


The grass is frosted,
tall, dead stalks.

The sun waits.
The hawk waits.

Tonight the stars
will do it again.



AS IF 


As if
God is electric
and touches you
and you are
surprised by
the sear of it.

As if
the silver of it
is fire released
in a rush and
you don't know what.

As if
a wire in wind
sings and sings,
then goes silent.



Thursday, January 10, 2019

from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Leaves Are Falling 


Leaves are falling.
The silence

of the trees is
not sorrow.

They have seen it
all before.



THE POET 


He puts himself out
there where all is edge

and margin and
nothing is center.

As if loss and
emptiness are

enough to make
a life and life is

enough to make
it mean something.



Wednesday, January 09, 2019

from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Leaving the Keya Paha 


Leaving,
yet not saying

good-bye, saying
until we meet next time.

The wind eating
the miles behind us.



JUDGMENT 


Her poems
are superior
to his:

they do more
than re-arrange
her wishes,

more than
annoy
the birches.



Tuesday, January 08, 2019

from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Dawn, the Last Day 


So much
and not
so much,
the sun

taking
its time
to fill
the sky,

the sky
taking
its time
with me.



WANT WANTS 


Want wants
what want wants.

Urgent as mortal sin.

Slow in the offing perhaps,
frenzied at the end.

Blessed is the silence
of silence then.



Monday, January 07, 2019

from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: I Don't Choose 


I don't choose
what I do.

What I do
chooses me.

You may think
this backwards,

but it works.
See the sky.

Say sky. Say
hawk rides this

wind into
your shadow.



HOW FAR 


How far
the north wind comes,
blown here across

muskeg,
forest, lake, mud.
We can't know what

that wind
has seen, and we
can't understand:

the more
it knows, the less
it needs to tell.



Sunday, January 06, 2019

from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Low Ground 


Low ground where
water gathers

and everything stays,
I call you sorrow.



SUCH EMPTINESS 


Such emptiness,
the poet so poor

he can't afford
a begging bowl.



Saturday, January 05, 2019

from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: In One Moment 


In one
moment

Coyote
is that

patch
of sun,

a stone,
a bunch

of red
grass

waving
in wind,

everything
but what

you want
him to be.

And then
he's gone.



OLD MAN'S WISDOM 


Old man's wisdom,
ragged clouds dragged
across the morning.



Friday, January 04, 2019

from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: Well-Shouldered Hills 


These well-
shouldered

hills shelter
the coyotes

and the coyotes
shelter them.

Trust wanders
like water

in the creek
and keeps

coming back.



POET AND BIRDS 


Poet and birds,
neither with much to
say today.


Thursday, January 03, 2019

from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: The Land 


The land is this
moment. This pair

of hawks above
the wind where

silence lives.
The river talking

to no one, everyone.
The lost poet

who is a cricket
forecasting

November,
who can't see

his end from here.



SOME DAYS 


Some days
not so much
is enough.

Acceptance
is blessing.



Wednesday, January 02, 2019

from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: What the River 


What the river
wants to say,

it does, whether
you care or not.

There is an
eternity

here you know
nothing about.

The river knows.



AH, THIS WORLD 


Ah, this world
coming apart.

Even in loss
its loveliness.



Tuesday, January 01, 2019

from The Wishin' Jupiter Poems: More Coyotes 


More coyotes
than God has

time for. One
turns and he

disappears.
I turn, and

another
one is gone.

Still the wind
and sun, the

grasses talking.



THE WIND 


The wind gets tired
knowing his business--

the hawk lets off.



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