dumped a ton of comments

change

now i will, i was wrong
i will publish comments from anonymous


now i'm thinking
of "ton a comments".
that's how it rolls
dialectically in ohioan.

left my

left my beret in Finney Hall,
Oberlin Conservatory of music.
called this morning to say i left my “derby”;
called back to say it's a “beret”.
last night's concert featured a
great mezzo soprano, and piano,
then player on stand up bass made in 1741,
then came in the rest -
trumpet, drums, an accordionist
with instrument from Brazil.
they entirety gave and got a “wow”,
top line classical and jazz performance.
everyone took solos,
artists as accomplished as possible.
surprised i didn't leave with cold feet
cause they knocked my socks off.

to write

hard board and chalk
a chair and a light,
then ready to write.
...how about a thought?

that's good, just don't over do it.
you're not out to prove anything.
readers will draw their own conclusions,
that's what the chalk is for.

wild wind

the wild wind almost knocked me down,
otherwise the day is fine,
warmer.
solid sleep then eggs for breakfast.

made a coffee, sipped it down,
moved around,
took out the trash,
practically walking ok.

ok this day.
took a blast of wind
enough for now.
holy cow.

inside is warm, comfortable.
i look out the window and smile.
this note is enough to write
for now. my heart's fine.

no rain, just wind.
it's that kind of day again.

keep going

kevlar, tevlar, a tough cover
what you need.
there is that word “need” again.
Schnevlar.

no, “need”. you “need”,
keeps you working to keep up,
get along. not on top,
just getting along.

i need a tough shield, sort of.
or to move along like i have one.
look both ways.
keep going. It'll all work out.

over and out

Miracle whip, a salad dressing.
Salad oil, salad grease.
Salad sauce, i'd say.
salad sauce of happiness, call it that.
there is no miracle involved.
don't go in, the salad's dressing.
a good job, naming stuff?
one good name, you're finished,
next week find new job

sunday now

have my day right,
clouds bright in one spot this morning.
the sun is back there
covered by slow, high grey cloud swirls.
no breeze out here in front.
leaveless trees are standing still.
cold outside for sure
the prediction calls for
snow this afternoon, this morning is dry.
we'll see what winter means.
i count on any snowfall today to be beautiful.

it's saturday

flurries fall slow enough to see between,
cold enough to stay around
on the ground.
it's winter cold.
it's february, what you'd expect,
what we see when we wake
on saturday.
quite a day.
another one in winter.

little to go

grey is the morning,
now without rain.
the month is quick.
screaming through February.
nowhere particular to go.
making notes, reading
and writing what is needed.
i can coffee up
and plan ahead,
keeping order, regarding
as best i can.

blue shadow

a snow melt again
in a day's light rain.
warm, but not to get excited;
more cold to come.
today's rain water will
freeze again tonight,
more winter on the way they say;
we'll see enough
to decorate the ground white,
and cast a blue shadow.

come alive

so i'll paint the upstairs walls
in pastels, swirls, tubes, circles
dots, clefs and parallel lines
until the room looks like one of my modern art engravings
come alive

go away winter

warm we can get used to;
it is about time.
surrender winter,
glad to see you go.

big sun

temperatures higher now,
fifty degrees at noon and climbing.
i go to the porch where
it feels familiar though not quite spring,
working in that direction.
Tecumseh, you passed by; were born here
two hundred years ago.
what is new for you, are you
more familiar with this land?
water flowing these streams.
winter's not as tough for you now.
all is quiet in the fields.
the deer are still here.
not as many, yet plenty.
we see them, and now birds
have begun to stir after a tough winter's quiet.
much land is taken over by roads, towns.
trees are fewer yet
forests remain;
thank goodness.

a break

a break in the cold. the freezing,
a little, some better, some say...
we'll see and hope so,
all the way.
161 snow records broken in January,
forty percent of the US covered in snow,
it's winter enough.
look ahead for goodness.
we'll take spring, i know.
all of us are ready.

wait the weather

Chicago is expecting minus 60 Fahrenheit.
every is expecting agonizing low temperatures,
now while sitting at the table
talking about tomorrow's weather.
we will think of it, but not
spend a large amount of time
futurizing weather conditions.
numbers are predicted, then are changed,
we get distracted during the day
and wait to see what happens.

rise, sun

looking out i saw it
such color.
the sun rise exploded pink.
in blistering cold, no wind.
never felt a day like it.
in two more it will drop well below freezing.
this is 29 january 2019 happening now.
see you, pal;
we'll see how it goes.

irregular

didn't cross the field.
came straight down the sidewalk.
i saw the tracks,
not large as i'd expect;
has little bunny feet.

i looked as he crossed the street
then sat up large as a pooka.
his jacket would be a rabbit extra large.
must live under those pine trees;
glad i never walk there.

wild morning light

twisted, rolling clouds lite up,
blown about.
the sun is pow-wild bright.
you forget this is a winter morning
when you're watching wild morning light.

over melt

rain all day on top of
hard pack snow heaps.
they say, again they do the talking,
twelve hours straight of falling water, oh yeah.

how much melt?
it's a matter of warm
don't you suppose, and there is.
warming, then cold again.

lets have
soup for lunch. don't worry
your pretty well
over melt.

heading up

pro foootball players make big money.
you watch them on TV,
that's why they get the gravy.
they get a million dollars
every time they turn around.
buy a ticket and keep 'em going.
i am sorry they bang heads.

january, there is snow

woke to drifts over two feet.
still falling, blowing this morning,
snow like i've never seen.
safe at home.
couldn't get to the street anyway,
no traffic is moving.
twenty-something degrees outside...
wait, i checked, make that 13 and dropping.

i'm staying home; big football on TV;
at the end of baseball season i didn't care,
now can't miss it, it is better than the Superbowl today,
New England Patriots versus Kansas City Chiefs.

here to there

m and i used to be there.
what i see, that's how it is.
an internet live camera looks down on the piazza,
and it tugs at my heart to see Rome this way,

from here; and there it is.
look, now it's afternoon here
and being six hours ahead,
it's nighttime there already.

take a breath.
we'll work it out
and be together
Rome.

glance

waiting snow predictions, revisions,
while it is dusting white,
yielding little flurries;
the storm has not begun;

not the one to shut us in for a few days
or make a drive to the airport perilous.
long ago we'd look and guess the weather,
now we glance and know it will snow at 2pm.

until then

moving is jarring at first,
to find new paint, new walls,
favorite possessions moved to new places.
old tables suddenly turned around take on a look of new.

sun light comes in and through unexpected places.
new window views take getting used to.
waiting a few days will make all become familiar.
until seasons change and tilt the light

cover

woke to the silent white,
a coverlet of snow.
it's heavy, you can feel it.
and not a sound outside.

in the country

lady walked by
where i'm sitting, waiting,
nothing in particular.
she smiles at me.
i take a second to react,
then remember where we are;
although she's not Mennonite
or anything particular, just a middle aged lady,
we are out in the country
where people are kinder.
so i relax and smile back.

Eddie katzman

my friend Eddie
has gone among the stars
no time to fold his tent,
a step and he is gone;
he always traveled light.

- - - - - - -
sifu, gorilla lover.
Oh, Eddie, sunlight reminds me of you.
Bac wa, tai chi, chi gung
so long Eddie Katzman,
your teachings are with me;
friend i am to you

my phone rings

business is going to hell
if companies think
calling me will lead
them to making money

in line

there are favorites
often repeated.
naturally i thought i'd seen every combination;
woke, glanced over;
what i saw on the clock surprised me.
a new one, 1 2 3 4

on the morn

wind on wreaths
shakes 'em so
they blow in the breeze;
this morning they do,
i see that.

when then on a sudden,
it's quiet for certain;
like that you know.
so loosely hang this time,
all working out fine,
no wind, no blow.