Saturday, September 29, 2007

Poem: Hopeless Crow Quote:Miguel de Cervantes

Hopeless Crow

Crow sauntered sideways in wind
And rain. Avoiding a lifting gust
Making crow an awkward display.
Crow in the worst part of the lot
Is a leftover of the dozen
Who divvied daily for food.

This crow’s genetics-
Last sweeper of this gravel patch.
To find a bauble
Would mean an elevation of status.
Scouring, is mission hopeless.

Miguel de Cervantes said, "Too much sanity may be madness and the maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be."

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Poem: Note Fever Quote: Stephen King

Note Fever

It’s all jazz in my head-
Miles, Miles, Miles, sketching
Spain and fusing it to a dream.
Man, it’s dizzy making my path straight.
Hubbard- who keeps my cupboard in dis-
array. Gershwin moistens my mershon pipe
as damp as a clarinets reed.
Coltrane, Coltrane, Coltrane, chugging
in the synapses of my cerebellum, and Basie
getting lacey with his wand.
Its Chet making licks full of love
with voice and metal hum.

All this gives me note fever
and I pray
no cure!

Stephen King said, "I'll try to terrify you first, and if that doesn't work, I'll try to horrify you, and if I can't make it there, I'll try to gross you out. I'm not proud."

T A Delmore

Monday, September 17, 2007

Quote: WC Williams/Poem: Parallel Myth

"The goal of writing is to keep a beleaguered line of understanding which has movement from breaking down and becoming a hole into which we sink decoratively to rest."

Parallel Myth

We were like Roman soldiers
Divvying up Jesus cloak.
Dads dead.
We enter the tomb
Of the basement; an eye
For an eye.
We could never in life
Gouge his hateful stares
As he had done to our unfolding eyes.
Now we toss no bones.
Like starved dingoes
Going for the blood of his materials.
Electrical cords lead
To sanders and scroll saws. Bits
To a hand drill, hammer and nails.
It was not enough those tools
They could never construct
A resurrection to speak of.

Saturday, September 8, 2007

Poem Angels

Lately I’ve been seeing crow beaks
On scuffed stools, posts that protect
Light stanchions and angles
A crow brother can see.

My son says angels don’t look human
We were created in the image
And likeness of God. Cherubim
And seraphim. What I see
may be angels in the angles.
A feather found changes
Ordinary to holy ground.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

Poem: Autumn Quote:William Trevor


Feast of crow
Feast of black
Feast of wings
That do attract.
October no,
October late
Is this birds
Festival of fate.

Crow is numerous
Above the grotto
Shielding Our Lady
Of wounds and sorrow.
Everywhere crow appears
No miracles, just tears.

Such nuisance
That creates belief
And suspends grief.
Only by faith do we
Twist and bend
To kiss autumn
and count leaves.

William Trevor once said, "If anyone asks why I write gloomy novels, they need only know that my father came from the South and my mother from the North."
He also said, "All my writing is about noncommunication — which is very sad and very funny."