the overboard moon, i took along
as i could carry it.
my heart sank in the warming trend post;
day after day i made notes.
memories in Rome poured out.
what we saw
as we took buses new places.
and the familiar
over and over: bus by train and car.
so many corners we turned.
my heart is warmed
with lasting impressions.
i'm glad to have made a note of it.
enjoy the ride, did you?
in the library someone sits in the center
spinning through pages in a book, looking for something.
Concentratng. Evidently busy.
As i come in the front door a librarian at the main desk
spins her head to see who entered.
"Good morning", she says to me with a smile.
"Hello". i say. i recognize her from years ago but don't recall her name.
She stands taller at the counter and awaits my words.
"Who is that at the center desk," I ask.
"Arnold," she says, "I don't think you know him. He's new in town."
I nodded.
"Has it stopped raining yet?" she asks, looking out the window.
I smiled. "Almost. It is nearly finished. Not like before, that's for sure."
...
there are stacks of them.
I came for only one.
i see that is so. what is the hook? i will write until i finish.
i read new poets to see what they say
mine is like ancient but i wrote it today
don’t make new schemes, don’t always use rhymes
I’ve got this thing going of doing four lines
don’t run with a group; It’s all give and take
i patch and recoup, so give me a break
no snow yet, not like it should be.
not as i remember those times when
we used our sleds everyday, school was out
just about. on the hill right in town, speeding down;
through the woods to get there.
we followed the snow falls bidding
... made tracks so others could find the paths,
for crossing walking ways ... in blanketed white
pounded down with footprints,
morning through night
... in January, crispy
saw the disturbance on TV;
as close as i wanted to be.
agony to see how real trump is,
that people willingly follow him,
emulate his example.
at home, away from crowds
and covid19
all is fine for me,
life goes backward,
the clock of it,
and you don't know it.
when your sleeping
hours tick off backward ...
not always, but oh, yes they do,
while you're not looking.
how can it do that?
so basically
when you're out and about
i want you on the same page,
no game changers, okay ?
to tell the truth
here's the takaway
keep your eye on the ball
got that? get that.
it starts this way ...
i hear the poem idea in my head; not quite.
sometime during the night
it goes tick, tick, tick
i'll look over quick
then forget what i said.
i read and slept by the usual time. thought i heard noise of cheers but it was only ten last night. l read the news now to see what happened. this morning it seems the usual outside: silent, okay.
now afternoon and it rains.
The other side of the globe where it is summerish, weather warm, walking around without coats ... good for you. I thought of you today. it was direct thinking of you. enjoy your warm days. here it is cold, above freezing during the daytime, but cold enough i need to decide which hat will I wear every time I go out. so now, this is real thinking of you from me here.
next on my mind
is using capitalization of letters.
even in paragraph form
i prefer to do as with my poetry:
names, titles, what i choose ... not
grammatical order. doesn't make sense.
seems to read and write easily for me.
thought i'd say.
she hung it by a string from the ceiling.
gave a spin; it flashed in a sparkle of sun;
wow. beautiful to see.
after a while i pointed, "it's slowing up."
she shook her head and said, "we're all slowing up."
that time i nodded. she deserves an award for observation.
at long last the decoration slowly came to a stop
and began spinning back the other way.
i wish i could do that.
all right, after a heavy snow day
light rain has been falling.
are you okay with that? snow is leaving.
now it's warmer and January is a week away.
let's joyously throw away this old year
and begin a good year with new weather shall we?
fields are under white wonder.
the sky's the color of a week-old snow drift.
in the forecast rain is brewing
to wash away the freshly fallen
mounds of powder stewing
if not today, maybe tomorrow.
reagardless, have a nice day
until the rain man gets here
and washes everything away.
we design the fest, mark it out,
then act as if the calendar happened by itself ;
we won't claim responsibly.
pack your memory bag ...
remember the best of times.
music too, pull that out and remember
when it sure was sweet.
doesn't matter which tunes you recall ... any will do,
while you go around carrying more viruses
within you than stars in the sky.
load up the reindeer
American girl cries to grandmother
on the phone. wants to go home.
got four months in jail at Cayman island
for breaking the Covid19 quarantine.
winding down in warmer weather..
the year...winding or un-winding
what is going on, this is new.
most every speck of snow has melted.
and people go on like all is normal.
what can we do? kinda late to think about it.
struggling into the weekend.
no birds, no animals. not around today.
it is completely quiet today.
there is no problem reading my head. my ideas.
i desire to write some good words, and fear to proceed.
yesterday I read my journals of trips to Mexico, Costa Rica and Italy.
fun to recall, return, live again. should i reprint all, make more work of it?
right now i am taking it easy, getting through rough times.
keep going simply, i am.
no bucket fulls. we're going easy now.
a dab at a time.
always lights have something to do with snow loading days. It Seems snow is on the way. They say. But hey, but we're out of the big fall. measure up.
the coast east will feast on it, the white cold wet.
I look now and it seems sleepy out here.
out there, you know.
hey, it's pretty. and sleepy.
Ohio winter is light, not yet effective.
only Covid 19 is pronounced.
January will begin another world
as trump is on his way away.
sleep packed with dream.
more than sand lining the shore.
my mind wandered in extreme
so much to explore. can you feel it, Christmas. on the way is the holiday, and it is quiet
with people staying at home. mostly alone and thinking. covid is about. at least it is not freezing. there,
something good to enjoy. go eat a cookie.
it could squish between my toes
warm days i walked barefoot
through a puddle
summer outing
The others, joni mitchell, paul simon,
I read and hear about.
many others times, songs are brief.
years in Rome, days to come. Meals.
Other cities, around talking.
Pictures in my memory.
watching poems, impressed, concerned
overcome with, battle along my way,
you go easy, you know you should.
roads are slippery when
it's me in the way.
you wave briskly for me to see you.
it could have been, distraction,
took away concentrationfor a second.
objective in sight.
slow down to be extra careful.
no matter how long it takes i'll wait.
i first saw him many years ago,
for years i've seen him ... on TV.
thin, sturdy, blonde, neat-combed hair.
of apparent Scandinavian descent, i'd say.
he's with a football team, that's why i see him.
once in a while during a game they show him on the sidelines;
always looking attentive ... concerned.
probably a head coach of the NFL team watch.
i know this guy's name for nothing.
i saw him on Monday night Football this week.
for thirty years or more i've seen him occasionally.
so i know him better than he knows me, naturally.
for sure we both get along where we belong ... on the sidelines.
and work it out
hey Debra; Jack and Meridith
from way far away after Sausalito
and Rome, now Oberlin, Ohio
spark a hoppin' hello
back to times with Henry, Joanne and the rest of us.
cause you led us hoppin' true
you did and we stayed in step
you're still in our brain
December got here. so did the snow,
knee deep white, more than i've seen for years.
today is Wednesday, last night snow came down
heavily. today it's 41 degrees, we have no snow tires,
can we get out and back in .
oh yes, she did, all went well.
she made it out and back.
now two weeks later.
it is no snow, warmer
another day is Thursday , sunny.
blue sky with gentle, now wind, wispy clouds.
snow storms are gone,
the temperature is over freezing.
looking out to stillness.
(check the time) 1:44, close the door,
now, this is what a poem is for ...
to give you rhyme, most every time, not always ...
and good sense? hmm, you decide.
and poetry has meter, ... like a parking meter only you never put quarters in.
it won't expire and you won't get a ticket.
and scheme ... what a dream.
today's theme acceptance and encouragement ...
please accept my poem, i encourage you to write your own.
i was asked to write you a poem for today.
what is the poem about? HAH. my poems are so short i 'd divulge too much if i mention it.
here's my poem:
a crowd of poets is a sad thing, there's no denying;
we'll spend time holding hands when we''re not crying.
i'm not lying.
the life of a poet is
difficult, complicated.
making notes sorting words, stacking
cards; we're poets in isolation,
doing it alone ...
the sound of one dog barking
oh, here to the corner ... no parking.
there is hunger in the United States and Covid 19
... this poem distracted you for a moment ...
like rainbow colors, in fluffy clouds
slid the window open after three
dreamed clouds again until five-thirty
when, from long beyond
i heard the whistle say - i am train
calling low in light rain,
sweet voice, milk and thunder
clawing on wings of steel,
lonely is the night, strong, sure
swinging through, blasting,
rolling heavy on quick-wheel feet
powering around, long through, then out of town,
murmur lonely; cutting night stillness, like blades on ice
iron maiden go, into first morning light
familiar friend, shaking windows with your power,
i smiled, low in bed, covered my head
slept another hour.
this is the third time i've published this poem;
i like it and i'm working on it.
sleeping, thinking, rolling dream.
half and half, back again,
not too early, not too late.
i want to hear the tapping rain drops.
nearly see forgotten faces of friends i knew.
longing to see my friends again.
yeah, a cup of coffee and thirty minutes
can do wonders for friendships.
