Tag Archives: Poetry

ONCE MORE ROUND THE MAYPOLE

ONCE MORE ROUND THE MAYPOLE

In leisure he revisits
things seen but never noticed in his youth
though they lay but a short arms length away

Cow with ingrown horn
then a saw-wire from repair
now metaphor for defense gone wrong

The deep snow forts of play
two Fahrenheit degrees away
from smother and a crying mother

Frost on a winter window
a forest of trees of finest lace
meant too cold to go outside today
now the music of the spheres in form

Best not to be a poet young
very little would get done

WRITING THE AUSTRALIA TRIP

WRITING THE AUSTRALIA TRIP

We went to teach, we went to learn
we did a lot of both and more of some

We met amazing people – they met us
perhaps none will be the same again

Details I leave for further poems
which I hurry to hurry to write

before the ripples rippling out
are lost
clockwise and counter clock
down the toilet bowl of time

WRITING ON STONE

WRITING ON STONE

Pop Bukowski in his coffin
dead as hell
but reaching for one last beer
and almost making it.

Al Purdy

On the stone on my grave
I have asked them to write

I’LL TRY TO WRITE

And I will

Seeking still
some simile or metaphor

What is it like, or most unlike

Am I below or above
does it taste like dust or love

If I can’t write about it
how will I know I’m dead

How will you know
I’m still alive

BARBARIANS 2003 AD

BARBARIANS 2003 AD

“We thought of ourselves as people of culture.
How long will it be till others see us that way again? “
Iraqi friend of poet Naomi Nye

The collected works of Hafiz
still outsell the Koran in Iran

Today in Baghdad bombs and fear
scattered lovers of Rumi and Kabir

Museum of modern man’s cradle
lost eighty centuries in a day

Book starved minds, educated thumbs
video game cowboys blew it all away

We thought ourselves people of culture
how long before we can look
at ourselves that way again