ringo

Ringo, Ringo is eighty
happy birthday drummer
we remember you as it happened.
the Beatles explosion,
hah, from New York the Ed Sullivan TV show.
how wound up we all were.

then there they were.
"She loves you."
here back in 20 20, the year we are
in up to our necks and tired
of trump and want less of him
and his family.
clean the way please.
dump the viri while you're at it.
 okay, viruses is the correct word.
not as attractive, like nothing about it.
we have to clear the counter of all
unappealing clutter.
simple again is where to get to,
where we want to go.
we want less to worry about.
better conditions
let the old tunes play
with nothing in the way
for enjoyment, we all. for us. need some.
 heaven help us, why not. and for our friends.
and strangers, they want it too, goodness.
we'll be better. we will do better.
Ringo is eighty today. he's good,
so for him and us.
yeah, yeah yeah.

seasonal heat

well, if it were a winter storm

i'd stay indoors until it passed.

yes, now comes heat again.

heavy this time. 93 and humid,

that is the difference. this temperature is nothing

out west where humidity is low.

at least we have thick walls

and air cooling. so all is well.

the projection is nothing too much.

here out the window, she is cleaning weeds,

a few, and i asked of the small white bulbs.

she said they are wild onions or garlic

and i can eat them. one will kill me

the other won't. when we were kids

we ate a bite of a lot of plants.

not knowing which are deadly.

we heard about the deadly plants

but never had a bite of one, evidently.

warm days

 creating warm days
seems to be what's up.
tied in a row.  day after another.

although here is an idea not happening now,
i can picture riding in the country,
far out. pretty, and peaceful.

thinning out

definitely fewer people
out making loops,
it seems to me.
watch them pass
going around the block
or where they go, usually.
not counting how many, you see,
notice is all. it happens.

can't stall the temperature rising.
for sure, rising. noticing that too.
 yeah, and it is easy to take.
can enjoy the out of doors.
i think of the lake.
and paths through the woods.
we are given well.

Hot

this is the opposite
of winter.  all the things
you can think of. all the
food and clothes, places
 to go, what to do. here is
summer giving you a hug.
laying it all on a table nicely
set with the finest silverware,
napkins, glasses, soft music,
smells from the kitchen,
and you ready for it all.  like
your dreams. complete.

seventh month

we never called the month by number
although it's recognizable.
the number name emits a flavor.
seems solid.
here's another particular to month seven:
lightening bugs, an all-around favorite.
they too have their season; this one, and we love 'em.
the reason is obvious,
they've come up with
something beautiful and unique.

when they begin to show

they don't sting and they
don't make any noise.
you want to follow them around.

keeping words lined

keeping words lined
to the point, I wasn't sure of
the significance when I wrote those
words until I looked at the cement birdbath
and saw it on the ground.
catastrophe.

no doubt squirrel brought it down,
jumping on the edge. not continuously,
a jump at a time, and hanging on the
side until he brought it down.
i say he because i'm not used to animal talk
where you say which animal without
reference to sex.

the squirrel didn't break, merely upset the heavy dish.
This is living in harmony with animals,
with the animals kept outside.
where they ought to be.
Squirrel especially.

To think a few years ago i fed
one squirrel by hand.
and keeping words lined,
 like you, i don't know what it means.

return

where dream world is,
i keep going

two some from B4

Saturday, November 12, 2011

industrial music please

the industrial music on TV Oh Boy
during wake-up early Saturday morning off-hours
when no sane sponsor would pay a dime to advertise
ergo there was nothing decent to view

we watched until it made us tap our feet in joy
to see new clean shiny bottles passing by,
row on row, on conveyor belts,
endless bottles sans commentary

gleaming bottles galore
whoa, wha’cha watchin’ zombie kids?
watching bottles
passin’ by, nothing to talk about

only that music and bottles on parade
you have to have loved it, or hated it or been mesmerized
here they come empty, watch ‘em now
then full, then lidded – get the lids on will ya

sometimes you tuned in and saw the end
when all those full bottles were
boxed, packed, trucked, then sped away
all to that appropriately endless industrial music.

at Saturday, November 12, 2011 2 comments Links to this post

words and music by jack s.

part decorative wood from Lincoln’s time
half recently constructed stone storage space
all overlooks the economically withering small town and an ugly
car wash across the street, with a coke machine that lights up

i have obtained the three thousand square foot
industrial building to write and play in.

i have embraced this space

have photos and dreams of being there
producing massive amounts of gems.
piles horded and distributed to the urchins

that look like overweight immature vandals;
short people not developed in any sense,
running in wild packs, probably to and from
that elementary school around the block,

and the legends will be created
by slouching legions carrying torches in the night
mobs of outcasts cutting vegetables for soup
blocks away from any used car dealership and

churches with a monument for the saints of another culture, generations ago
that are told in prayers and whispers to salt the wound, would you do that

to yourself or animals unless for cooking?
i'd get a caldron, check if open fires are legal

but they won’t stop me from
dreaming
for all the belching smoke and stench
i can produce in my dream caldrathon

Quiet now

Several spaces are open
for cars, for walking,
for anything you want
because no one is out
doing anything nearby.
the mailman and occasional neighbors
are seen
the sky is a thick grey
full up cloudy,
while we have temperatures locked in the mid-eighties
and all the humidity you can bear.
still, i find the day to my liking.
delightful.
because of the virus there are
not many folk visable.
the internet takes me around,
the radio too.walking in the yard,
seeing the birds, chipmunks,
tracks of the deer
keep me aware.



Gee i say folk in the vernacular
and get leaned on for it.

blank shore

trees were rocking,
sounded like the sea.
blowin' up a storm
right above me.

a lot of power
beyond my reach;
blew hard for an hour,
now let's go to the beach

rain more

this morning pressed in
with packages of gray clouds
filling the sky.
there is no mist.
wind is rubbing tree branches,
making clicking sounds.
 birds some call clearly.

feel the air and wow.
humidity, how you're
grabbing us.
there would be
a smack of sun if big sky
 felt able. but now no,
maybe later.
 we haven't used sun up
so, wait, see how
this day develops.
smile patiently
from your heart.

deer and eagles

we're not in the country

just down the street aways;

enough so when we

look out in the mornings

we see deer now and then

slipping by in quiet hours

with their family.

they have no natural predators

large cats and bear are gone.

in Ohio 184,000 deer were

killed by hunters last year,

the only pretators they have.

when i was young

they were a handful.

now there are 707 bald eagle

nests in ohio.

that was the figure for May.

they're multiplying.

river side

the river i recall
wasn't far at all
from the creeks we walked in
when we talked on
summer days.
 of sweet corn and baseball
and when we'd be old enough
to get a car of our own.
that was just a day cause i know i worked
only thinking this is what i had
my mind on.
the future was too far beyond to consider,
unless it was icecream later in the day,
that i could think, it wasn't far away.
cheers for our summer day.

day's song

starting out warm.
 brief dawn rain.
half the storm hangs there,
half goes down the drain.

flowers, wake and take a drink will you?
take enough to fill you
for today, for today.

2:35

90, humid ... the break
is rain at last ... take your time.
we're ready for wetness.
hear the light thunder
now fading in the background.

rushing leaves with a car going by.
splashing like a dream.
i hear birds calling.
they like the cooling water.

mostly still again.
a crack a thunder broke the silence.
yeah ... and a bird sings

cleaning the mess

morning air fresh
as most any quiet day
as Good as a boat ride
i suppose.
haven't had one for a while;
it's in my head.
just mentioning a float on the water.
while head down she's out there
working in the weeds
making a nest in the grass, practically;
you'd think so anyway,
out there half the day.
if we had some rain to clear
her and the squirrels and chipmunks away.

what can be done? it's only cleaning
the wild away. brush trimmed.
lawn clipped. salvage work
for the yard and her head? you suppose.
it's too cool for me to think too hard about it.
get the warm weather back again why doncha.

June me

last January sure is far away.
now, i've had corn already,.
tasted fine as ever.
where did they grow it?
fields aren't ready round here.
 Hahn, everyone's favorite grower
is retiring. that's big news.
the family has been growing sweet
corn all of my life. the oldest son
died when i was young. the other boys
aren't staying on the farm
.
some nights have gorgeous
stars.
friends are good to recall. '
the best days are fine, and most
summer nights are under stary
skies.
pour out, Ohio beauty,
we can take you in.

light stepping

good shoes, the right jacket.
open land to the end of the field.
cross the piece of woods beyond.
dry weeds crack as you walk
through the short stretch
to the pond. it's morning
and alread.y a pleasant day
is ahead. good sun, light
breeze. sit and listen for a while to the sounds
of the day. a bird or two and
large clouds. enough to make a
full world. make a note: very good
time of day for an easy hike

heats on

waited all winter for warmth

now it's so fine, run the good
by me. i'll stick like glue.

in idle time ...

 looking at Trevi fountain live cam

my bank was around the corner

a minute or two walk away

from the fountain.

i always stopped at the fountain

when i had to go to the bank.

now I've closed my bank account
and returned to america.
i can't walk well enough to get
around. this story is not going
well. so, the days are moving on.
  and i get along with help.

i have to look at it like this.

when the writing is going well

i'm satisfied. how is your head?

heavy sun, no rain

monday is 14 days
after the holiday packed when
folks seemed to forget about the virus
and relax.
so will relapse occur or
seem a joke mistake,
thinkin' it's gone away,
no more than me and you.
how do we figure.
passing the time.
words are clumsey bumbling
waiting to see.
i'll have another long coffee
and watch the sky.

now the weather is a wreck

you can wait, wear a sweater. just
don't think of swimming in the lake,
work on something else will ya.
and remember summer's coming
later this year.
been saying for a month now.
it will be pleasant soon.
corn will grow high,
we'll have breakfast out somewhere.
all the goodness of the season
will leap up in front of us.
what a fine surprise that will be to regard.
i never had a doubt .. a tiny bit, that's all.
with the unexpected virus attack
we've seen a few places closed that
don't look as if they'll ever reopen.
set back a paltry, that's all,
weather probably has nothing to
do with it. hold tight.

Pond wind

the river never still
has movement as a whole.

there is motion,

i see it moving

coming down to the mouth

through the reeds

with the carp, frogs and the lilly pads,

ultimately joining the body of lake

slow rolling toward the ocean

sweet is the wet cool water.

you know how june goes

have seen a few.

Pragna stopped by to compare notes,

we all traded local info

and found out twhat we could.

our best month is here,

and this is day two of it.

we need this month to get

used to perfect.

zoom partied

we did it,

a little difficult, need experience

12 people, that is a guess.

some children too young to count.

wanted to say hi to Lane and Krista,

Meri said Tommy asked me how i was doing.

i couldn't tell,  where was Terry?

Travis from Texas hadn't seen for 22 years.

never got to say hi to him.

hope i said happy birthday to Tommy.

without a moderator confusion reigned.

many faces. session rushed.

couldn't say hi to Dona, too much noise.

Gerry and i communicated the

way old men 75 do,

in a flash of understanding.

getting used to a warm summer days

wearing shorts, until now unheard of.
deliberately a breeze came by...
 drifting, 
and unmistakenly passed with the scent
of field green and wild-flower sweetness

occasionally lifting birds on wing
over singing clusters of bubbles and
trickles from the falls near the pond.

final cool days

runnin' by May

stretched thin,

into warm from cool.

planters rule now:

holy cow.

let the garden grow.

you can watch it,

you can weed some,
up, up, up. here we go

Elvis, oh so bright,
i'll wrap you in a poem tonight.

the heat's here, they say

the weather's

set to heat.

been waiting.

now we've got it can we take it?

sure, it's nothing, wait and see.

we'll see, i say.

could be uncomfortable.

and if that's not worst of it;

it's been worth the long winter's wait.

blurry times

don't make me ask, tell me you've

been taking care of yourself,

keeping everything in order.

i know the virus is a worry,

other thoughts get blurry

when fear is in the way.

takes up time.

so stay in line.

next time act the same.

it's what you do.

chipmunks too.

so what we're a little older.

soon it'll be summer

nothing special this year.
i expect constant rainy days
will suddenly turn to heat.
that's our treat after a  rough winter.
how about sun and beautiful clouds.
we'll drive by the long fields
see the corn and wheat growing.
that's a deal, thinking of snowing
and cold. at least books
will fill us up.  a warm week and thunderstorms.
remembering dear friends. wondering
when we get back to see them
on the west coast and in Italy.
we want to sit down and relax.

Turkey buzzard

sure i knew it'd draw you in.
doesn't involve difficult figuring.
had to see one first.
outside fort plank town.
soared in. on a wire,
got my attention.
rain going on for the umpteenth
day in a row. never the less we
stopped to see Mark for plants.
the day went fine. we left with
the buzzard on the wire.

moon some

between clouds there's the shine,
a rolling May moon divine,
yes, to adore.
sublime to the core.
pal o' mine.
need i say more.

Bridge blockers

you're driving along and
 get to a bridge, suddenly
the roadsides are built up
so you can't look over and
see the water as you
cross the bridge.
what did they do that for?
 no need to see
the river when crossing ...
you might enjoy the view too much.
it's enchanting, for sure.
a while back some nitwits
thought it distracting;
takes your mind off boredom.
if you have a good thought you
might want to return; the town folk
 prefer you just keep going.

display of rain

in the early afternoon, it arrives.
out front two cardinals and a robin love it.
three hours later most of the
town has basements flooding.
pounding rain quits moments before
water comes under our front door.
it's easy to worry while watching the rising water.
the yard has large puddles, but the rain has stopped.
 i'll sleep well not thinking about it anymore.

bumps some

 we had poetry night,
an hour, six or eight of us.
 how many lasted,
how many cut away, i can't say.
we attended by computer
as the virus keeps us apart.
 Reverend Mary led us...
she has the link.
the rest of us are incompetent.
faces in squares on the screen.
we're computer lean, so to say.
 we attend okay.
from home, it's the way.
also' it's rainy grey again today.
May on display
i'm crumbling.
the sky's grumbling.

water

when i'm at the sink
a minute alone
washing off a spoon
i think of people in their home
with no clean running water

zip quickly

a chipmunk moves
with a heart rate
of 350 blurry
beats per minute
then calming to a hibernation
rate of 4 beats per minute.

chipmunk run 33 mph.
squirrels 24.
they both look quick
when they're zipping around
back and forth in the yard.

Testing, work-up

testing & amp; tracking.
suit up,
here we go in the chamber
see us round. don't touch anything.
keep us sound. semi-permeable membranes.
we haven't seen the end of it.
just passed chickens.
i'm serious now. changes everything.

thump a little

a chipmunk moves around
with a heart rate of 350 blurry
beats per minute during activity.

then calming to a
hibernation rate of
4 beats per minute.


little chipmunks run 33mph.
squirrels 24mph
for me ... i never go
an entire mile.  they can't
figure mph on me.

i could guess ... one thing,
is that with or without ice cream?

early may

woke 9 May
to snow on the ground.
way out of season, don't you know.
surprised me.
baby, it's cold outside,
what is the reason?
i haven't been told.
part of strange weather going round.
 i'll settle for that

modern times

home computers enable you

to keep up to the minute on

weather forecast changes ...

if you want to check that often.

checking every minute is extreme.
usually, you check and wait a while.

Also, the moon gets much attention.

how much change is there for

a floating rock in space with no flowers?

the moon shadow changes.

not generally a big deal.

what is interesting to me about the weather,

i like to know if i need a jacket and hat

when i go out the door ... here on earth,
that door right over there.

right now the wind is blowing enough

to hear it whistling in the chimney. 

a check with mark's

Mark's is filled with plants,
ready for another year. his is
a country store away from town.
never in want of customers
because they remember his
 fair prices, friendly ways
and quality goods, and come back
in good number.
doors were open early in the morning.
many entered with fat asses
and pulled along children, as sleet fell
at the Plank town area flower market
called Lu Ray Garden.
we've returned several years.
i waited patiently in the car.
when she finished there we drove a few miles
and stopped at a second plant mill.
quickly m checked that one out. this morning
i spent the entire time writing these words.
plant shopping complete, a long, quiet farm
road took us North toward home.

a most decent day

a most decent day of the year
well beyond the winter snows
before the sweet corn grows
here in northern Ohio
where the virus has us controlled
where to sit
masks we wear.
how far apart we be.
one hundred people went into the store
masked to hell and back.
then came out and scooted off to  get back home.
feeling okay? easy now.
today take sunshine.

our plot will soon be filled with plants.
picking, planning.
then one more run to Planktown
to fill it up.
render satisfaction.

cloudy

after nine already.
had rain for an hour.
steady.
won't be a crack of sun.
i'd say none.
not our way, not this day.
it's the last of April. who'd suspect?
i guess summer will jump on us suddenly.
weatherwise the seasonal change has been slow.
deliberate is another way of thinking.
stepping slowly like a bad monster. 
i suppose it has been the confinement by the virus
giving us another way to think about it all.
at least we're taking what is given.

definitely a new way of living going on.
of course, what else can we do?

grandmother and her sisters

four girls in light summer dresses,
side by side for a photo.
looking through the
bright desert sun, not knowing
what the passing years would become.
their faces are of the family
more than eighty years after the
day of their photo in Globe, Arizona.
married to one of the granddaughters
the family resemblance reflects
in all her worth.

another week of rain water

the trouble with a forecast
you can look ahead and see the deluge,
not today, but believe
it will be soon enough. now
another rain day complete.

inside looking out. 

be sure and dress for it

if you're going about.
simply water everywhere.

 heard it half the night.

gallons. more than seemed reasonable.
splashes, patter. dripping.

 splatter. drops.

you want an umbrella? 

look, there are doves out there.

i guess they can stand the rain.

and they're hungry.

breakfast club

before nine A.M. feeders:

blue jay, chipmunk, cardinal, two squirrels;

lined up, were busily hoppin' about.

then heard the Blam as a sparrow hit the kitchen window.

laid on its side for several minutes,

then slowly rolled on the ground to an upright position.

didn't move for a while.

thirty minutes later it stood up,

began walking around, seeking, nibbling.

then perched in a bush. looked around. not ready to fly.

other morning nibblers are out.

two squirrels. big robin came to the regular spot.

two goldfinches at the feeder.

a male cardinal pecked on the ground.

collision sparrow flew away.

sun poking through the cloud cover.

shall warm the day by afternoon.

rain returns tonight

another crunch

so days roll, i note
nothing going on, poor news.
as spring begins, i'm ready
for flowers, for showers.
it's good as can be.
well could be warmer, that will happen.
so will beauty and color.
i think it will seem great out
when the temperature is warmer.
that is all we need. the rest will
fall into place. the virus will quit
and Trump will go away.
then even pizza will taste better

ducks

ducks can hang around somewhat,
but not with humans.
don't bother trying to get close,
they can't take it.
a few hundred yards away is as
close as they can stand to be.

only once in a while
they'd land in my little pond by accident.
it's only fifteen feet in diameter.
must have wanted to check it out
or had to get their feet wet.

if i was there i'd keep still.
if i did more than look their way
they'd take off in a hurry.
imagine how much power it would
take for you to go from floating on water,
leap up and begin to fly.

hello ducks, nice surprise,
good to see you.
goodbye ducks.

when we went to shiloh

used to go to Shiloh regular.
to the good breakfast spot
right there on the main street,
the one that ran down the middle.

the breakfast spot did well
now i'll tell you 
the restaurant did right for everyone;
 until it sold and never opened it's doors again.

whew, that shook our boots. hardly
a warning. yes, we heard talk but,
 didn't want to believe it.  took
a while until we forgot about it.

the Amish poet. we met him there.
gave him a ride to the auction site.
stopped at Plank town.
discovered it then.

the old was finished, never
opened again. that's when Planktown
began for us. a spot on the
road. with parking for buggys.

the way

on the way

on a sweet day of spring,

ready to put this one to use.

with donned hats and jackets

wheeled South for Plank town.

 

ride on.

chickens out peckin'

seen us whiz by in a flash.

spring starter plants are waiting.

i'm thinking of the five deer

in our yard a month ago and wondering

what are we going to do besides wait

for their return ... they eat what grows.

i know i like Swiss chard and they do too.

chilly and quiet today.

blue sky showin' through

puffy gray clouds blowin'

sail on all ...

ok for now
holy cow

Passenger me

i'm talking,
so you know;
case you forgot.
starting here ... this point.

bumped into the wall.
this is serious,
in the middle of the night
 when I got up.
didn't hurt myself.
It's dark ... was humming.
walked around a few minutes
couldn't see ... It was black.
3 o'clock, too early to stay up.
went back to bed.
slept and all went well in
dreams i don't remember.

this morning she wanted mulch from
an hour east, Medina.
Still driving get a phone call from Missouri.
no, I didn't answer.
 i've done that.
always a recorded response.
no one ever talks to me
i've given up.
maybe It's better that way.
another unknown call an hour later - declined

Sunny and 55;
what a nice day.

days move along

snow on the ground will melt today.
all away.
we've seen the last coming down.
nothing more have i to say, about snow.
gone, you know ...
for this year.
getting ready now for pizza,
and warm afternoons.
want to pass through the virus phase,
come out the other side.
see friends face to face.
the regular old human race.
go out for breakfast.
take our time rolling through the back-country.
watching the sun-shine,
and the corn grow.

get to planktown

where are those ideas so grand?
how did they slip through the overnight.
perhaps when i awoke i looked away,
skipped around, had coffee too soon.

next time i'll shower, dress and get rolling.

head South. get moving.
very light traffic.
a poem idea inside of me is ready to emerge.


the secret to writing well:
review it all, a piece at a time.
every morsel.
 stack the good stuff over on one side.

put it together.
 look at the sky now.
clouds are heavy if you try to lift them with water in.

kettle shaking

 tea water is boiling.
settle kettle, you're jumping.
i turned water to off and it did.

this is not makebelieve.
what a difference.
the world is changing in some ways.

some things remain
the same.
how do you like your tea?

woodland color chart

in my chair near the window
book open, looking out
to see all sunny and quiet.
no wind. got the picture?

in a patch of sun stands a robin.
white, orange, brown, black, a variety of color,
and my head had it robins were dull.
not at all.they're filled with solid color and particularly gay.

not back-grounders for any picture, not at all.
you take all the birds and put them in
with the woods setting and
they fit in just fine.

alert continues

this morning content i note
the threatening storm of last night didn't get here;
yet again strong wind and rain is predicted.
maybe this time it'll reach us.
the forecast says confusion will reign.
 
apparently,  the squirrel somehow
dodges soaking droplets.
quick and oily i imagine.
the rapid hopping got my attention.

robins about

this is about robin stuff.

with three recently seen from

our window; listen while i tell you.

the robin, they are tough, run well.

pull worms out of the ground,

meri said that about pulling worms out

and something else,

but she's from California,

how does she even know?

i'm from Ohio and never heard

about robins pulling worms

from the ground. i can swear

it never came up in casual conversation.

of bird talk, i have seen them run and

they do good at that ... all around the

yard if they have to. amazing.
yes, the robin as a group, is well run.

running cold

woke to snow on the roof.
thought the last went by already.
 April heralds spring, you know.
a season slow to open so far.
it will get here.
i'll bet on it.
Ole'  ole'
want to make a taco while we wait?

shopping south

April snowstorm on the road, thirty minutes
from here to Planktown, the Mennonite
country store. went through heavy snow
all the way down,
thank goodness it was too warm to stick.
although the heavy flurries had our attention.

when we got to the store business was quiet.
m said less than half the people
inside covered their faces in caution of the virus.
that's disturbing.
and she sadly reported eggs were 3.19 a dozen, before
they were 1.79.

for both of us the trip seemed a
fine start on the day, seeing people out again.
we came back on highway 58 north.
thinking back, i didn't see any horses or wagons
tied up outside the country store.
it hailed when we got to Oberlin.

a day in Ohio is wet you see

last night i thought i was sleeping
because i went to bed
with that intention.
always happens.
part of the evening.
disconnected thoughts of isolated phrases passed by to fill my dream
splashing beneficial foundation stones
creating warmth for giving fire
to words of love and pie,
always warm pie can thrill,
kept warm with music.
harmony of togetherness,
a soft breeze; i didn't tap my foot.
then from Google, news of Italy, south by Naples
economically collapsing.
hard times, no assistance,
where to turn for
meals on the table.
there the rains of spring can be dismal.
my words won't end tears of hunger during this emergency.
these words hang in the air:
desperate, hungry and scared

Overboard moon

not hard to imagine ...
  the largest, wildest moon of
the year; rolling up in a splashy color,
one you can visualize in your dream.

spring flowers

in light spring showers.

small yellow buds

unfold into flowers

for you, Hon.                    (as in honey)

now the decorator's fun begins;

 to arrange the flowers

in a water-filled vase 

placed where the sun hits the table.

tighten up some

 glide when you can.
you're on a solid, smooth foundation.
the sun will guide you.
 toast and coffee breakfast;
how lucky i am she can make bread.
i know one time i had really good tea somewhere.
special tea, i 'm not sure where.
it could have been in Morocco.
that was an extraordinary location ... overflowing
with exotic flavors and a late afternoon nearly violet sky.
now i'll see what develops here
under our current altered conditions.

I've got a pad so i'll make a note

should've written Sal  as a name for the mule.
seems a popular name, and now
two hundred years later, well beyond the song workmen sang walking a boat
alongside the Erie Canal
why not again. yeah, why not again.
have an imaginary boat on the canal again.
and why not, Ohio is where this is,
And Spring has just opened up.
the ducks are loose.
other critters are out running. There goes a robin.
we're all glad about the
weather ... as fine as can be.

 the river is wide and wild,
moving with power.
independent as the weather
expect the season to hold on the good side for a while.
blue sky scattered light clouds.
We could camp along the river again.
regarding another matter, I figure
roasted corn on the cob is several months away;
no need to hurry anything,

this is to be a spell of joyful time.
 so then, work well.
wash your shirts and hang them outside on a line to dry.
they'll flap and snap in the breeze.
and you take a day at a time
 know they're like no other


these days are the absolute best as can be made.

heartfelt

I appear before you
As the author of last years moving
You gonna na eat that cookie. 

my wife told me

to write something heartfelt.

here it is.

here is something heartfelt.

looking out the window i see

squirrels picking up nuts.

every day they do this,

keep going.

looking, finding, picking, stuffing

it in their mouth and chewing.

no partners, no pals, no police ... looking,

finding, chewing.

Katie, in the key of life, please.

Why it's the squirrel's life for me.

no TV, no shopping,

no gas, no toilet paper,

and, uh ...

sleeping in a tree ...

it's the squirrels life for me.

Stay alert

you stay fine

keep inline.

be mindful and be safe.
situations can become problematic. 
along the path you may encounter
upstream bottlenecks that need to be addressed.

evaluate to see if you need assistance
and should join asylum seekers.

walk tall.

,,how baking ought to

a space special, clean and neat;
 put away this and that where each belong.
an old stiff, red tablecloth her mother used.
the kitchen well organized.

now what we plan you
can bake these at home.
where kitchen supplies are handy.
and the recipe.
you need the accoutrements,
spoons, bowls ... of course, sugar

a sunny window is good
plus the cooker who bakes.
being cookies are done that way.

she can do baking just fine. add the ingredients,
stir and roll them out.
put them on the pan, pop them in the hot oven.
i don't have to tell everything.

Look at the new of you reading here. Welcome. Now I'll continue.

new sunday

America and the rest of the world
- i have to include it all -
begin a calender new, or program,
new way to go, how it is used,
formed, composed,
unlike before we should
recognize the change.
have a parade in inaugural.
we'll prepare for next time.
i can see large helium-filled balloons.

already, setting the day aside this way
turns us to celebration.
hooray. we're doing well.
this is still a Sunday, so far,
so that is good, we recognize the day.

how we fill the day is up to us.
special food would be good.
a particular cake, pie, sandwich.
candles, colors, animals, decorations.
or we could begin slowly
and see what develops.

fear a while

looking out all the time
go ahead now
left and right
on guard. not a dog's worth. a little.

keep ahead of developments
  away from dread ..
don't worry, not this hour
sliding okay,  with the power.

not in my head now ...
entirely fine ... just got out of bed.
how about the usual time?

i heard you said, fine.
we're caught in a sticky situation.
loook away, the rain is coming down
Pound ding, one word.

don't breathe on anyone
Or conversely, don't let them on you
until all is settled.

the good time of year is ever green

you know ...
it is difficult to say the words
to warm someone's heart
when attention is on a virus
circling the globe.
how about this ...
 winter has passed so
think spring thoughts
instead of dumping us
and leaving part of our joy
abandoned on the roadside.
bring us into sunshine.
it will occur
sometime later
now we must endure.

young rider

when we were kids i would hear her

she'd ride her horse to town

and once Penny asked if i wanted

to ride double

after a brief walk and a hop, i fell off

that's how my first horseback ride ended

though the library lot now

has large trees around, is paved

and usually half-filled with cars

from miles away i see it as the

grass field where we played baseball

and Penny took me for my

first horseback ride

ghost rider

bent out of shape.
that's what happened.
came out of the dark.
snuck up from behind.

light fog and rain.
good morning, Monday.
cold but looking out the window
you're not bad. we can take you.

home robins

early march
every day on a tree stump,
one fat robin sat alone
 in front of our kitchen window
now a smaller robin is here.
they're friends
and not alone.

will the new little one
take big robin off
to build a nest somewhere we don't know
and won't see?
i hope the family nest
is nearby so we see it all.
i know the robins build
in the same place for years.

cool some

not really cold,
it's nearly wonderful.
in fact yesterday morning
we worked outside;

then in the afternoon,
after a bowl of rice from Kim's,
we did more clean-up work outside.
well, yeah, i played a while on the piano,

made plans and thought some.
i could've worked more i suppose
but i wrote a few lines,
see how that goes, look for an idea,

then get back to reading
 or trying to think;
one good starting point for tomorrow.
it'll be colder then again, they say.

hey, there's a guy
or gal walkingover
in a hazmat suit.
act normal.

saturday afternoon at the mall

drove to the
parking area
in front of the Walmart
in Elyria. watched
twenty, large
black and white geese
walk on the lawn.
while meri looked
for a wheelbarrow
on her phone.

on the same page

hide under a cover
panic buying's around.
can you hover over me?
stores are empty, lover,

or jammed. look beyond the clover.
a virus caused the problem.
and that's not clever.
we're on the same page

again. i didn't turnip.
 got my foot caught in the spokes.
and don't like that same page stuff.
however, on my opening blog page

i did write "all of my life."
to sound like what it is.
then turnip occurred to me.
seemed appropriate at the time.

i should calm down.
scratch it out.
forget i wrote it.
need to return to feeling ... yeah.

count me in

1.97 for a gallon of gas.
sunny Monday.
had a donut.
that's the day.

here it is, going on.
shake the slips of paper
out of my pocket. old notes.
wonder why i carry them.

drove down a slow main street
passed Johnny's.
they're only serving takeout.
you can't sit in there and eat.
maybe tomorrow we'll try,
or in a few days
or in a month,
or in many months when i'm beaten down by this chaos.
what is happening here?
a killer disease is upon us.
where did it come from?
how about a solution.
can't we return to complacency?
give me slow motion.
a smile
a hug
and a coffee.

pandemic

global concern for
whatever we have going.
doctors may define our situation.

while we can do as always,
drive-by country fields,
look out the window and wonder
what everyone else is wondering.

it doesn't get much better than that.
oh, it could be warmer,
and places that sell ice cream cones
could be open, that'd be good.

mulch is

mulch is old dead leaves.
get ready. it's happening.
sure it's cold,
not terrible ... enough.
dry and quiet.

i'm moving slowly
 trying to figure what i'm doing today.
waiting a break toward spring,
make it more comfortable to be out.

see how the birds and squirrels feel
abou having people in their territory,
we're going to share with them;
they don't know it, though they
might have an idea,
 having seen us watching out the windows.

i'll cry for you ...
you won't turn me away.
you won't turn me away.

my cat is on the skids

my cat is on the skids

that's where he lives

lying in the sun's rays

he sleeps his days away

he's easy, won't hurt a fly

doesn't care, really

doesn't have the time

Gandalf must be the oldest cat in the world

but i'm sure he likes it that way

when my car pulls in

he runs home

that's the only time he runs

and when he's sure i'm holding the door for him

he slows down to a walk

i'll look at him

but hardly in the eye.

we know how to get along;

i feed him, and he comes around for it.

grey day

have you noticed the space
between the grey, cloudy,
dark, dismal and
 slowly starting days?
 
think about it while i align poetic words
including frogs, bogs, deer, beer and summertime,
that last a special season. ours, mine.
 making a poem for an empty street.
you can hear heels moving slowly, tapping ... the echo.

now let's play slow music and dance, shall we?
all of us, lining the walls,
shoulder to shoulder.
come on, get up, arm in arm. 
with hardly a sound
let's march.
put aside thoughts of the dread from this virus.

you know it seems like yesterday,
remember,  when we put on records
and played our favorite tunes.
 today we are waiting
for better news.

day's news

first thing i wake for coffee
and the daily news dose.
a gulp of what's crude
to see how's it going ...

quiet all around
cause the news is bad;
got to stay off the street,
hideout from the virus.

meanwhile, i slept well
 dreamt well
didn't hear the squirrels or birds;
they were all sleeping too.

doing what comes naturally.

Kia Edit

sail on.
smooth as a goose landing on calm water,
we glided along.
the voice said:
continue on ohio 511
north for three miles.

 this regular day we're following instructions from the global positioning
system/gps through rain and light mid~day traffic.

how much should we notice?
looking out the window it's
North Olmsted, practically Cleveland.
i lived a few miles from here 45 years ago.
seems i'm going it again.
didn't mean to either time.

how much should we care?
the kia is going in
for an oil change.
not by itself.
It's good, but not beyond reality.
got the con.

meanwhile coronavirus
is running rampant.
it has been talked about ... we'll see what happens.
   

ache

it is the ache inside
i settle with,
 hold on to ...
keeping me company
between stormy nights
and looking over morning coffee.

i can tell you the
plans for my next poem are vague;
 as they should be. i suppose.

when the time comes i will
spell out something,
maybe have a vivid dream when
i don't expect it. or there'll be a big wind
and a change in the weather.
that'd be alright.
now, walking to the corner,
turn right or left?
feels good wondering.
you know. the day is ok.

like rain

wind early.
 snow, coming down like rain.
for a few hours in the afternoon'
falling thick when i'm looking out at it.
i'd like to hear it beating on the roof.
a heavy, foreboding sound.
 while i'm wishing,
how about a bowl of popcorn.

now rain

we had winter snow.
i remember.
last week sometime.
seems longer ago than that.

and i was expecting more.
thinking we'd get a pile up.
we were due ... for sure.
well, forget it.

collision

next month, if the asteroid
smashes into earth
all life, will be wiped
clean, clean, far away.
to smithereens.
other than that, there is
no news from the national
aeronautics and space administration.
keeping my poetry in a light
vein, winter has released
it's grip on Ohio.
no sidewalk shoveling,
couldn't ice skate on the lak
or a small pond this year. a hundred tons
of salt not dumped on streets by the highway department will be saved.
winter gone, asteroid maybe;
what does the weather channel
have to say?

third of march

we drove to see our home in
Norwhere. the one
put together from a commercial
building. erected in 1866.
the home we left
to find better times near new friends.
it's a matter of neighbor-hood,
and the new one is grand.

April snowstorm
on the road to Plankton
came down thick, but too warm to stick.
heavy flurries had our attention.
the store half full.
half-covered their faces
In caution of the virus.
eggs 3.19, 
great start on the day.
getting out,
seeing people again.
we'll take highway 58
North to home, now Oberlin.

another holy mackeral

the lake is quiet, it hums.
that's always a good sign.
we drove by Severance Hall Cleveland, Ohio.
a large sign read 51 Fahrenheit,

spring is bursting awake,
make a note: blue jays, robins,
squirrels ... everyone is out.
in Spanish with English subtitles.

heard those words on the radio.
now, tighten up your belt.
keep smiling. there is more to do.
start a shopping list.

winter pause

 look far across the fields and check out
the afternoon sun, will you?

not the bright yellow ball itself
but the shadows soaking in between ... greys

and browns lighter than usual.

warm and inviting, still air,

 a farmer's buggy sorta day.

with the horse acting snappy

 coming up around by Planktown.

i can take a fist full of days like this, can't you?

going to warm

 a final sign winter's ended,
a snow melting 50 degrees
five days in a row;
starting tomorrow,
so we are depending on the weather forecast.
what do i think?
wait and see, right?

robins in february ohio

six in a bush,
this below-freezing day.
they appear round and ruffled,
seems cold for them to be well fed.
it's very cold and they keep eating
tiny buds on the bush by the window.
a flock on nine flashed in a nearby tree.
five seconds - they were gone ... flashed off.
25 Fahrenheit.
puffs of light snow.
don't know where those birds'll sleep.
must be tougher than they look.

holy moli

looking around,
reading words of others, poets.
that sort ... various.
and i was thinking
what they say.
then i write,

what i say.
say what?
it goes in good tempo,
you got the beat?
my friend, alex, he's a drummer.
all he's ever done.
puts me in a stretch.
makes my heart call out
i'd cry if no one's looking.
wipe my nose,
think home long ago,
and geese flying in a v overhead.
a good thought like that
calms me down.

unlike snowly

now the word
is wait another day.
snow is on the way
again they say.
hard to get excited though
two days in  a row.
don't you know.
even though
it's trickling in
rather thin.

rain mostly

for today the weather is messed up.
forecasters give us a 90 percent chance of rain
outside ... right here, around here.
well, it isn't giving, they offer.

and chance seems the wrong word.
likely hood. two words.
probability, that's it. 
messy, all over the streets.

when rain turns to snow.
i know the large dump trucks parading  around
will dump tons of salt to be smashed all over the streets.
and you can sit at the table and look out the window.

about a winter concert

okay ... that's a breath,
now i'll tell you ... as i recall,
of an afternoon concert in late February.
the Cleveland Orchestra, so it's again
Severance Hall, what a place.
their home zone.
Michael Tilson Thomas, conductor ...
top of the heap, and composer of
Mediations on Rilke. also, we heard
Symphonie Fantastique by Berlioz.
we sat on the aisle, row five and wow.
those musicians worked hard for us
to fill the hall
with solid, good sound ...
they succeeded.
what pleasure

alluring titles

reading the titles of my poems,
expecting to find them interesting.
some are, others not all.
to read in ten seconds with
no twist or depth on all.

give me more than a tantalizer.
dish me out substance.
 how about a topic.
start there. mind if i talk to you?
a campfire by the river.
i wait for you, you wait for me?
get the fire going. we'll be warm.

i'll button my coat to the collar,
see if that helps.
as i notice the ground outside disturbing,
bright light, no snow.
i found i'd written the same thing
several years ago,
this surprise at February no snow.

give me a chill breeze
or i'll wait inside for a weather change.
maybe fill my poem with genuine attraction.
or i need a drive around
to look in the fields.
there always is something going on there.

Dreams I recall

been remembering my dreams,
with a good flash in the morning,
then forget to write them down. 

these days of winter

morning clear sky, a pleasant, bright, light blue.
very pretty, even amazing.
seems i could reach out, wave my hand and touch it.
and overall the weather feels as if it could become even unseasonably warmer soon.

don't know what to think of that.
there is all the talk of climate change and global warming.
we don't know where it is going to lead.

the populace in the immediate vicinity seems to be taking time easily.
moving along each day with no apparent hurry.
i can say each night i'm sleeping well in good dream.

daytime cool temps cold, not frigid,
with no snow here in mid-February.
it is dry weather.

i've been writing notes; although thinking cream pie while eating less in general.