Poems

Father’s Day 2012

Sunday, June 17th, 2012

Jan wrote this amazing poem for me this morning.

Her title,”Daddy Steps” is a phrase I invented when I was three years old to denote little granite stairways and trails that diverged from the paved footpaths in Fort Tryon Park, near our tiny upper Manhattan apartment. My Daddy and I would love to follow them together off the beaten track.

 

 

 

 

 

When I first saw the steep undeveloped backyard of the house we moved to in San Luis Obispo in 1988, I looked forward to making some Daddy Steps for my grandchildren.

 

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Biopsy

Sunday, June 10th, 2012

(for Steve E.)

Sometimes you pass without notice
into a new state
and look back later
and say, “how it’s all changed,
how did it happen?”
And sometimes there’s this:
a teetering on the sharp edge
of everything being different.
And if you go over, sometimes,
gradually you come back.
And if not, then you’re there,
looking around, getting by,
just like here.

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Grandparenthood

Thursday, April 5th, 2012

Amor vincit omnia
says the Prioress’ golden brooch
in a Middle English prologue
I recited yesterday to my class.
Love conquers all:
all order, constraint, justice
hope and resignation
dissolved
in the assault
of horned buck, spurred cock
and rival knights,
in the swoon of a smitten queen,
in a country parson’s charity.
When offspring wander wayward
with their brood
it herds them home
undaunted.

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New Year’s Eve 2012

Friday, December 30th, 2011

The invitation from our esteemed host
Requested that his guests would bring along
Some ceremonious way to make a toast
For this occasion with a poem or song.

Hence, without a moment’s hesitation
I consulted Google for a clue.
It spewed forth many hits for contemplation
Of the old year’s end and welcome of the new.

I found verse by Shakespeare, Ralegh, Clare
Robert Burns and Frost and Service too
All grieving for the loss time makes us bear
All hopeful for what next it brings in view.

There’s little more to say than what they said,
So lets just try to love life, till we’re dead.

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Knoll House Valentine

Sunday, February 13th, 2011

Through French doors
I see our bed
two pillows flat
on the Welch spread.
I wont go there
but camp upstairs
under the comforter
where you appear.
The tulip lamp glows
the nightgown slips
I kiss your lips
And palm your waist
the small of your back
derriere and breast
your nipple growing
finger tips glowing
you stroke my sex
swelling
ourselves expelling
into the air
balloon that bears
us both aloft
taut, distending
one way tending
towards the ending
blast of joy
exploding all
¦and then
like feathers floating
down to sleep
we fall.

 

 

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A.M.

Monday, November 8th, 2010

Took my listening walk with the dog up Poly Mountain this morning. The clock moved back on Saturday. The dawn was fresh and brilliant after last night’s rain. On the way down, near the gate, I was arrested by a burgeoning yellow acacia at the side of the path. Two peeps emerged from inside its opaque crown. The new leaves glowed green as the light swelled. Pearl-shaped leftover raindrops glittered like diamonds in the sun. The slow strains of cello and viola in Beethoven’s Hymn of Recovery slowly crescendoed in my earbuds and burst into a high-pitched dance of the first violin. A tiny bird flew out of the canopy, remained suspended and vibrating, then fired a blast of colors from its emerald head and ruby throat.

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The Garden

Sunday, November 7th, 2010

When I saw white butterflies in the sun
Flutter among my broccolis,
Like a tragic king at the oracle
I knew what was in store.

Now dark mornings find me
On aching knees
With headlamp pointed down
Searching undersides of ragged leaves
Stems fouled with droppings
Tangles of shredded buds.

I spot the velvety worms
The color of what they’ve eaten,
The shape of where they hide.

I lift them tenderly
With forefinger and thumb
To squeeze out their guts.

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3 haiku

Sunday, July 18th, 2010

Back to black coffee
Not lighting a cigarette
But remembering

* * *

New zazen cushion
Arrived by yesterday’s mail
Right knee still hurts

* * *

Thick snow falling down
Mixed with cherry blossom petals
Lit up from below

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Walking Meditation: Earth, Water, Air, Fire

Thursday, July 1st, 2010

This flattened trail gives softly to my tread
As cedar trunks suck water from below
Two hundred feet high where new shoots are spread
And, pointing to the sun, tough top tips grow.

With winks of shade and light the slovenly bush
From off the beaten path calls me to turn
I stomp on brittle twigs and logs of mush
I stroke slow swaying fronds of unfurled fern.

Up and down the dance of feed and kill
To music of the robin, jay and gnat
Warble, squawk and buzz. Then all is still
Till shattered by woodpeckers’ rattatat.

Summoned to return, as from a dream
My offering left: a sparkling golden stream.

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Intention

Thursday, July 1st, 2010

“You get what you pay for,”
My momma used to say.
But shopping for bargains
Was how she spent her day.

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