go ibid

last week heard cleveland orchestra
in oberlin. tiny hall.
phrases loud as i've ever heard
also softness in the extreme.
strange selections, locally written.
the french pianist played his entire movement
with his left hand

good job, wild program, not your regular.
now, heard the orchestra again last night
with lang lang on piano.
why is he renown?
folks. he's smooth.
long fast runs...quiet, quick.
clean as i've never heard in any recording.
he's got it.

29 september 2018 was

yesterday evening we went to Severance Hall
for the 100th anniversary gala of the Cleveland Orchestra.
Franz Welsor-Most conducted,
Lang Lang played the piano,
M drove.

the audience in formal wear
went for a dinner after the concert
we went home,
it was bedtime.

phone proclamation

i received a phone call that began "Hello."
in that one word i heard
the voice and education of a 1950s show girl.
she continued lightly admonishing,
slightly breathy, "I'm calling from
the U.S. Treasury Department..." that was enough;
i smiled and disconnected. she failed the audition.
i hung up.

day begins

air still and foggy,
different the way this day begins.
i could be working early;
am thinking of the mystery in the fields,
beautiful out this morning.
first coffee starts me off;
playing it familiar.
i'll think about the fields
then decide which pot to stir.
taking the morning easy.

fall so

the bottom dropped
out of the thermometer.
it's September, after all.
from shorts to long pants;
the transition to fall.

aleppo pepper

quiet morning
at the country store,
one other customer at the register;
a Mennonite woman
buying a large assortment of bananas.
m wondered what recipe she had;
waited as bananas were
individually weighed.
m picked up aleppo pepper from Syria,
the fiery taste of the Mediterranean;
we'd sprinkle it on fried eggs;
a brilliant tang for breakfast:
leapers

Ganges, Oh

out back crossed
Ganges, Ohio;
too small
to poem.

everything is temporary

not extremely hot, no rain today.
the city guys in hard hats
are tearing out the sidewalk
in front of our house
and all the way down the street,
preparing for a new gas line,
a better line,
fat plastic, so it won't rust
and will last a century
or until there is something better;
they talk among themselves
and explained to us
so we'd know:
everything is temporary.

Easter Island statues

Easter Island statues;
want to wake to see
one like it in your yard?
are forty feet tall,
weigh 75 tons.
mow around it.

oil an

oil an onions
and tortillas
and cheese
are good
together fried,
sprinkle salt

the season

cloudy and humid
so what, hey it's august,
i wait all year for this discomfort;
it could be an island with the sea
but i don't have to use bug repellent.
feel it getting better?
watermelon is in season.

august moving

august: the quickest moving month in the northern hemisphere,
now midway
marking summer on the wane.
time to diminish in intensity.
can you believe it?
so soon again.
sweetcorn is the good of it

morning, august

a sunny, warm, still morning
for bees and hummingbirds.
sip your coffee,
take a look.
enjoy the day.
could use a pile of days like this.

.

going to rain

the booms swept north to south
shook the windows,
and the house,
explosions of glorious thunder,
only a pause...before rain pounded.

carefully i planned words to write this,
fell back asleep...
woke remembering little;
sidewalks are damp

Thankyou

Annie and Tom,
Thanks for your support.
I should work harder.
Oh, Annie, I forgot how to publish comments.
i think they are on.

.

waiting weather

attractive cloud formations,
that's it...no rain,
not out there...here.
nothing expected, forget it,

a dull okay, that's good enough.
can't have it all; would like it cooler,
there i go.
what do i want?

i think, first - not to be foolish;
we can't have it all:
there are good starting points...
like nice clouds.

so, heat's here

will be warm today, say hot, they say;
so summer, show me what you've got today.

good new travels

my friend plans
ten days with his son, mountain camping
away from the heat, sounds good;
oh yes, whatever your program: enjoy summer

buggies, sunday

back around New Haven...
we saw eight in a row,
slow trotting, horse drawn, buggies;
all made the turn onto a smaller side road,
on their way to Sunday meeting;

anytime we pass a buggy, the driver,
man or woman, will raise a hand,
catch our eye and smile;
granting us permission to be there...
by saying a friendly hello.

we see faces and hands as
happy children wave out from
the buggy's rear window.

hey, how about it

like a super-size pillow
see it? i like 'em.
dark and white clouds billow...
floating by...see 'em?
look up and wonder; will it rain,
or pass us by? what do you say?
i'd say though it's seems so...
kind of darn dry, you know.
we wait rain, we do.

pour it out, could you?
fill us up, Water Maker.

rain would help

my feet look older
maybe it's the heat.
there are clouds passing by;
dampness would help.

trees and beans

being anxious as you
to see what this contains,
i'll say the title was written,
the following day a poem developed.

bees: make it trees and bees, better eh?
i did, so you have to,
i'd say so, so it is said.
now i'll clear this out,

write it and read it.
july 7, 2018...it'll be 78 degrees in fahrenheit.
no breeze to speak of...
no smoking either...
maybe that's the root of what this is about

when it

don't have my nicotine
mine, all mine. personal.
doing without, am i fooling myself?
folding myself

correcting settings on my machine, began to read these words out loud. became angry, not too much, just enough.

fill me in, what's easier.
the distraction will remove fault,
take the rest away.
who needs auto correct?
yes, it functions well.
am i smoothing out yet?
mentioning is a kin to ...

watermelon filled the space.

mark the date in stone

crawl on by, keep going
you moaning yearning, i feel you
reaching vainly,
deep hunger.

plumber eyes

the guy is plumber,
fixed our drippy faucet.
took a year for him to get here,
because we didn't call him;
for sure that slowed him down.

then amazon did everything,
found a guy who knew what tools
to bring, and how to use them.
good for him and us
but i never got his name.

you see how well the new world works?
i want to believe in efficiency
for us, from him.
yet, we never got his name.
for shame, cold world.
i never heard him say his name.

up in smoke

pipe tobacco/
crushed by hand/
roll it/
light it.../
up in smoke
okay, i know that one
so now i'll try this again,
i'll leave it alone.
good luck, good times.

fiori di zucca

today is the day,
gathered zucchini flowers,
then battered and fried
ah, my favorites.

away some

nine days to see,
saw my daughter and her's;
this poet on vacation
made mental notes,
worked none at all.
all went well that way,
i'd say.

ate, weather hot,
what we got
hit the spot.

then we're out of there
not even wrinkled.

i thought we were pals

the parent robins returned
fed their young worms about noon.
didn't know me or my whistle
from dee man in dah moon

launch

Final two robins launch today.
one hops through sweet woodruff
other half way up small dogwood
Mother and father sweep in to protect

stuck

stuck under a bureau drawer
her father's report card from '34.
this brings the question
how much to collect?

vacation

going on vacation,
not staying at home; rocket out.
leaving, far from winter,
side-step away from the usual.
can be done most anywhere
wake up, relax, go back to sleep.
soak it in, refresh yourself

what robin did

watched robin land on a wobbly wire.
if i could fly i'd do that.
my neurologist doubts i'd accomplish
the rest of what the robin did:
jump 180 degrees and land
facing the other direction.
i said, don't bet on it,
when you're hot
you're hot.

robins decide

we preferred them a protected corner
not a highly trafficked area.
nonetheless two returning robins
insisted on building a nest again
near the steps on our porch,
then made three more robins;
now are feeding them pieces of worms.
we have to be reasonably cooperative
and respectful of their activities.

bumps

you notice bumps on the way going out;
the same road home is always smoother.

found rocks

when you're able
display special rocks you find
in a line on a table
so you appreciate finding them

go by

on the porch to feel …
in wind light and variable.
sounds like the weatherman
but merely a morning porch looker;
and the train runs by half mile away.

the Q sounds. dah, dah dit dah.
my engineer friend 25 years ago
said no to the Q, just: long, long, short, long.
Yes, it calls the same
as a telegrapher on the plain
as steel wheels sound on the track
on an otherwise quiet morning
rolling, rolling go by

Toast for me
by the baker of the bread
been buttered she said
berry jelly is mine to apply
while there again:
rolling, rolling,
train rolling, go by

purple on

flashy purple on the Queen, hat and dress
at the wedding of her grandson
on round the world tv,
oh, I noticed; fans don that chosen color
for the Lake Erie Crushers semi-pro baseball team;
here comes now: then identical, how did it happen,
my bright new t-shirt. exacto mundo or what?
didn't fall out of the sky.
i'm talking three same purples.
m chose the t-shirt or it appeared like magic in my clothes drawer.
she didn't help the queen
or the baseball team.
you decide what's coincidence.

throughout time you can rough shod ascertain
what day in our millennium this all came down.
gives me the willeys.

won't

won't change
'cept i'm older;
jesus criminey
that wraps it up.

dreamt cowboys
redoing their movies,
they were older;
seemed 'bout logical.

knee deep

a jet trip had me writing in my head,
never scribed a note when good words
began piling around me.
knee deep in my head.
unfortunately the trip to san fran ended without blunting pencil lead.
the good fortune is the trip.

be all

nothing doing in the rain,
all is still outside my window
pit pat
except that.
as spring is set.
let's begin again.
temperate times, where are thee?

search me

The blank box in the upper right is a search box to find other poems by looking for a word, any word. Some are in the poems and some are words that will lead you to another poem. It's fun to try.
This bit of writing is an exercise in communication, me to you, and in writing. I know I should be writing more each day, but I get lost reading because I enjoy that too. I like to put my shoes on ... thought I'd mention that.

this world we live in

thousands of displaced persons
walk in the rain, in the wind. families carrying
their infants, seeking refuge, peace
somewhere.

dry in my bed last night, on the radio
i heard a young baseball player in Boston
or Baltimore had signed a contract for
150 or 160 million dollars.


.

near spring

unseasonably warm some say
i call this our first spring day.
we waited a winter
not outer but inner,
now we're ready to play.

too much hoping, too soon.
the dreams floating
unsubstantiated and doomed.
tossed in the wind,
we'll try again
tomorrow.

salt road

they put out salt from here to Peru,
route 61 to Shelby and beyond.
17 degrees, the day before's snow on the road.
drove there, parked, we entered.

sat by the window;
looking good, view in and out. joint's hoppin'.
sunny side up and good hash browns
i ordered that.

"for potatoes..." the waitress
looking me in the eye or over my head and out the window
finalized, "shredded or chunks?" wants to speak
her own language...a real think-about.

made my mind up - shredded;
she went away then it all came back to me: got eggs and all.
ate with gusto, paid and told her
"it's all fine what you have here...so's the coffee."

she believed me, an eye blink goodbye.
white asphalt, dry and salted
as we rode on home
oh, yeah




On a personal note: At times I
have to work poems over for days.
Others I share quickly;
I want to serve them while they're hot.

.

winter's day ride

out in the country we pass
a pair of beautiful high stepping dark horses,
brown with lighter beige patches and white slashes,
pulling a clack buggy, silhouetted in bright snow.
a family aboard, my camera not ready ...
i see them come,
with children smiling.
there, hear them laughing
... there they go.
bundled for a winter's day ride.
oh, joy ... and nice horses

.

20th century

In the old days when the phone rang
there would be a person calling.

.

graandma

Her warm heart. Her smiling.
Today is Grandma's birthday
I never said happy birthday enough to her, my favorite relative.

While born a hundred and many years ago,
I stand earth years older than she.
She'd nod her head and smile at that thought.

Time is greased
with no place to hang on.

i am looking out the window waiting.
this is too much.
some steel and winds
not powerful, but steady.


thinking Rome ... home again.
tumbling on the snow drift called winter
cold and rolling,
skies alive.






.

geese nap

semi-gray day, a few smears of blue
seen through parting dark clouds in the sky.
heater on, windows up.
road dry, 15 degrees.
pass 25 random spots in a field like dark plastic bags;
look again, one or two are moving. it's geese lying there.
their idea of a good place for a nap
is different from mine.

yes, there is steel in the winds ...
enough to test you.

taste it cold and ...
in skies alive that have come down around you.

while thinking Rome, at home
in the snow drift called winter

in a straight-back, lightly-cushioned chair
in the front room, in the sun,
i can spend the noon hour
thinking of how time has run.

.

challenge

waitress poured me a coffee
so high in the cup
to make it a challenge to balance a sip.

.

It's written there -
Seven, the year of it … how grand.
from dull white into passing age's smoke,
the breath of shouts, fires, and exhaust.
vapors on weathered alabaster turned the chalky blanched monument
the tone of parched and dirty fog.
worn, pocked,portions missing, others in danger of falling ...
this solemn icon known the world over:
The Colosseum

.

Borghese

A camera man setting up,
sun is bright, the day cool.
an hour to go.
fractions of quiet words in many languages
...
all wearing 21st century casual,
there are no dresses.
a few flash haircuts, to the scalp on one side.
the parade passes in masses, then thinner
by the start of the hour to begin
into the Borghese

.

it is tough

it is tough being a guy
when you get to the age
women are smarter.

this park

this park at the end of the street
that changes names to get here
where i have a bench in the sun
on such a good afternoon for warmth
in city stillness as can be expected;
a balance of all i appreciate.
there is a statue of a man sitting
hand over his face. years ago i drew this.
nothing has changed but the day, me
and the sun.

October skies

take some steel and winds
not great, but easy.
color them rolling,
skies alive.

lost power

lost power, didn't take a big hit,
enough to set clocks a blinking
that's it.
oh, and the lights on the stove flashing,
maybe there are other indicators.
time will tell, hah.
for sure the day has been interupted.
a change of plans has occured.
so we put it back together
and see wat else we can find.
surprise flys on wings called disturbance
... anytime ... stay ready

find the tea that appeals
sip it and wonder

got my

oh, baby doll ...
got my new frames heated,
twisted, they fit snugger ... more snug.
so many words in my heart.

two hours later i am still wearing
my new glasses.
recently toasted,
they not me.




wanna draw for high card?
(i'm thinking about this one.).

bees wipe their feet
before entering the hive.
scientists will tell you
even they have more to learn.

do i

always let me help you,
do i ... do i.
words, that word
to say the things that pile all over,
i see, i know.
now i said "things", another non-word
i use as yes as i can, or faster.
the beat text is happening like a rogue wave.
do keep eyes shut when water splashes
just a blink, you see, of course
and off course.
make a melody ... a melody.
hum a melody, go ahead.
softly.

.

nuts are for

nuts are for picking
then doing with
like cooking, baking,
donuts or making of a pie.
so: we pick 'em or the squirrel gets 'em
when the tree leaves nuts.

donuts sounds extreme, i know.



.

The games will be played
in the last good weather of the season.
The boys of summer will wrap it up
and our team, after many years without,
shall come out rated number one


.`.

season

yesterday's warm's a memory,
now a change of scene;
from no socks to long socks,
there is no in between


.

help us

you know these giant bombers
the USA builds,
why not build one less
and put the money, an estimated 606 million for one,
towards helping disabled children.
that's a lot of money.
Now, tell me again, which political party
is the one that works for the people?


.

for the people

you know these giant bombers
the USA builds them;
why not build one less
and put the money
towards helping disabled children.
that's a lot of money.
Now, which political party
is the one that works for the people?


.

poetry is

to say it
neat and clean
is poetry.


.

dear october

here near october,
with only a couple days to go,
it feels like july again,
i mean now ... so hot and dry,
wow, holy cow, rolling fat clouds crowd the sky.
they are nice.

it is so hot you seek relief
in the shade, under a big tree;
where you've got fat leaves
in a thin breeze,
watch them clouds ... slowly rolling by.
i mean it.


.

on tv

on TV: an architectural program
featuring ten wonderful homes to see.
i clicked it off accidentally
then spent an hour trying to find it.
i did not find it again.


.

ten

leaning toward October
night wind can make it cool;
no need for jackets yet, however
month ten is on the way.


.

near june

near june dawn
one damp
brown leather foot
after another
crept the woods
to a lake and canoe
where two
set off as few would do
to pursue the climbing amber sun
(not yet in view)
and jumping swimming fish
(deep in the blue)
the deer and bear and birds

what they saw
no one knew




This dawn poem is here already ... i brought it back to post again ... just because.

grow trees

... we'll grow trees
cut them into poles, and
string 'em with wires
all over the world.
until we think of something better





.

myanmar

she read the morning news
told me as we drove
thirty easy going miles on straight blacktop.
it was 66 degrees 85 later ...
don't have a watch, Enough ...
to a slow down, hometown breakfast ... shop ...
an establishment ...

families walking with all they had,
escaping so they would not be shot.

here the restaurant is open this holiday, labor day -
whatever that means.

women and children and old walked.
the men are all dead
a woman carried a cooking pot,
another a solar panel.

in the corner restaurant
having an omelet with toast and fried potatoes
the lady kept bringing more coffee
i thought about the people walking.
what a world.



.

water cover

jesus criminy,
birds float in the air,
boats are there to share,
they are helping out;
Texas has flooded.
more area than i can imagine.





.

that much

put your hand out shoulder high
that's how much poetry sweet talk i need
that deep in flowers and thistles
rocks and birds and running water




.

color up

color up, autumn, do it for me.
dress yourself carefully, will ya?
a mess of us are ready ...
so what's it going to be?
how about pizza and a beer
watching those Indians play ball?
to the wire, when they wrap it up,
those boys of the fall ...
and summer. of course.
we spent a lot of time with them.
god we cheered.
from beginning to seasons end;
and after snows we'll do it again, don't you know.




.

winding out

winding out of august,
nearly hits 100 in kentucky;
come home to feel summer running,
going to cool and color soon.



.

mexican food, ole'
refried beanns and pound cake
yes, i took my time
yes, i ate too much



.

water for pasta,
add plenty of salt.
the moon is bright;
i wish i was.


.

Tales

everybody has a story
some with colors bright
keep you awake at night
others so dull they
put you to sleep





.

.

moon shadow

a day long drive to Kentucky
and if we are lucky
the sky will be clear
casting the moon shadow.



.

round off the edges

saying what you say
in a cordial way is poetry,
as i see it




.

talking, thinking

fingers tapping on the table,
thinking, hardly blinking,
i'm able to crack ... there it goes
crack open the window;
feel it? take some air.
ready to begin or having patience
... don't know; can't say.
coffee's good, that's a fact.

pull out my paper scraps,
can hardly read my notes,
pencil blurrs. but i remember
what i saw worth writing about
... now, how can i
put feelings into words?
and emotion.

words, to bring
sweet feeling out;
chosen phrases.
a small bird on the window ledge
distracts me relatively.
sweet sip ...
there's always coffee.

sitting, my elbows on the table
tapping out a melody ...
excuse me. i lost it ... thinking ...
drifting some ... more importantly,
look out the window,
home is warm and good,
that's the picture of it.
the day wears well.






.


.

rhubarb pie

had a good drive round
and down a lot of lanes;
country roads, where just those words
bring picture-thoughts to mind ...
heard blowing, rattling leaves,
got sprinkled on, gray cloudy
then sun-some.
on the far side of a field
a white-tailed doe with her two fawns - jumping.
stood still to look at us a while,
then turned back to playing, leaping.
stopped at DeChant farm,
picked a rhubarb pie,
tasty sweet eating,
left money in the tin.
i'm nibbling the outer ring portion
of back to childhood memories ...
plus the pie.





.

Pone, Pone, Pone

my phone will not ring anymore, forever
what's your pones vibration pattern?
wait ... my pone is levitating
did i tell you, now it's a pone.



.

ship locator

Position received seven hours, forty minutes ago
Isadora is off Spain, headed to Algiers
I wonder if Ralfo is aboard
how smooth the sea, how blue the sky?
oh, my, and my again.
i believe in you.
who is steering the ship?
how fine is summertime.



.

Geese the significant

when driving in a dream there is
no need to signal, yet i cordially wave and smile.
traffic heavy melts together on the road,
shut my eyes and nod off into a cat nap.

in a splash, came to wakeful senses
i did in a crowd. horns honking.
waved back, had the change,
paid the toll. told myself i could finish

this dream, in an hour, if i rush.
hit the gas, checked the time
and then realized an hour had already passed.
time flies, you know, some say, they’re right, some time.

took another bite of sandwich,
chewed slowly while i wondered
where i got it and how to hold it
with two hands while driving?

seemed mayonnaise enough to me ,
i smiled at the hearty bread, tasty as reality,
with long green salty seeds in it,
and the tomato slipping out.

aware that all the red was taillights
all the honking were wild geese
making restful music as i
closed my eyes to finish dreaming.

thinking the one last conscious thought,
that i like geese, i really do.
never met one though to get to know,
i’d surly like to.



.

sweet train

cracked the window after three
cloud dreamed again 'til five
when, from long beyond
i heard the name say - i am train

calling low in light rain,
sweet voice, milk and thunder
clawing on wings of steel,
lonely is the night ... i am train

swinging through, blasting,
rolling heavy on quick-wheel feet
powering down, long around, then out of town,
murmur lonely; cutting night stillness like a blade on ice

iron maiden go into first morning light
familiar friend, shaking houses with your power,
i smiled ... low in bed, covered my head
and slept another hour.


.

tradition begins at home

the pairing of plain rice
and miso soup, considered
a fundamental unit of
Japanese cuisine and the basis
of traditional Japanese breakfast;
as for me is the perusal of a broth box
left on the counter where i am
sitting and reading, while eating cereal.



.

President Donald Trump and Education Secretary Betsy DeVos have proposed reducing the federal education budget by $9 billion, in part by cutting a $27 million arts-education program. They don't like art or animals; the Republican party should dissolve itself with this kind of thinking. A new party can be formed for the people.

.

4 july, all are happy. drum, drum.
Ohio waits all year for summer -
sunny fun, and warm.
a holiday exactly like this, a charm.
parade the morning school band,
wave the red, white and blue;
i'm telling you, see some standing and
folks on the sidewalk in folding chairs.
then afternoon root your Cleveland team.
it's TV baseball and a beer -
family eat and laugh together,
cheer those Indians, louder.
nightfall hear the boom boom
it's fireworks for another year


.

hide my face
i'm out'a place
ah jus' got back
from out'a space


.

baseball

for the Cleveland Indians
where Zimmer plays center field
i'd need a golf cart to get there ...
and a beer in a to-go cup, please.



.

manuel dreamed he was driving
and fell asleep,
sometime later i woke in a crowd,
said i'd finish this dream
in february ... it's already july,
furthermore, my name's not manuel.


.

it touches my heart

summer warms, inevitably; and charms.
sitting here while spinning june in real time
our mountain cabin came to mind.
oh, the pleasure ... to have lived then ...
the primitive log house we loved.
we kept it and it kept us.

in oak and pines, manzanita, high in the Sierra.
today driving by some woods and creek in ohio
i heard the swoosh of heavy wind through the trees,
so alive it could carry color like a house painters brush.
delight splashed into my heart as i revisited the memory.

so much goodness in our mountain life
could burst my heart to recall our fun;
although time rolls and we did
unaware how the days do get along.
use the days wisely, my friend,
be careful ... be kind ... do enjoy.




.

bend time

to take different pills
twice a day, long enough
and time blends
the best of systems

take pills different
enough, twice a daylong
and blends time
best the systems

to take pills different
twice, and along
enough blends time
the best of systems

to pills different
enough a long day
twice time blends
test the system




.