(Boy, Lost in Woods, Says Bear Kept Him Company – CNN) (“I don’t want to cast aspersions on the child but I think (this) little boy had a fantasy. . .” – Chris Servheen, bear researcher at the University of Montana.) (…are you there? Mr. Bear? – Johnson/Blaney) Having livedtwo long years on his planet,andContinue reading “The Boy And The Bear”
Tag Archives: Poetry
Feeling Grumpy
Anger spunin spokes so thin,warning dewdropsdid not glisten. I’m captured prey,muted heartbeat.The gasp of delight,I might have feltat colour or birds or day,is choked in rip-proof silk. Held as a hunter’s prizebut poisoned,emptied,already dried,I wait for the spider’s surpriseand pityan eight-legged, rumbling beastwho findssuch a miserable feast.
A Splendid Day
(It Is Such a Splendid, Sunny Day – Sophie Scholl) The garden is heavy again in bloom,wild beasts busy at their work.This stone blue water planet,the multitude stars,the green things,the creaturesmust ignore dark puffs of destructionto wend the way.What or whom can move arestepping over lifeless thingsbecause those fallen shapesare nothing more than ordinary obstacles.Continue reading “A Splendid Day”
Santa Claus, Jesus and the Fourth of July
Santa Claus appearedwearing nothing, one night.He stumbled to my bedside,whispered, “Don’t turn on the light!”and crawled in.I thought it was aNetflix seriesabout to begin. “Are you cold?” I said,as quick between the covers he slid.His reply? “Hell, no…on the Americans’fourth of July?” Oh, my,either this was mighty interestingor I wasn’t thinking straight,it WAS late. LikeContinue reading “Santa Claus, Jesus and the Fourth of July”
Hello? Hello? Is This Thing On?
I woke to a brown,numbing downrhyme,that might have beenthe song of politicians,impotent,a simpering whineof these and themand yours and mine,and how it’s gotta be cleaned up,made fine,this time. I sat up slow,the promise of progress a lowradio,rumbling in both ears.“If it can’t be done now,then, it will be by next year.There is nothing, nothingbut aContinue reading “Hello? Hello? Is This Thing On?”
Dead Batteries and Signs From God
Bank robbery,andsimpler larceny,both make the innocent-born-guiltyconscience squirmbutmost of us commit not crime,norease into any wrong actionlocked away timemight cure. Still, I hear we all wereborn in sin,and need a warning sign,lest further untoward events occur.It’s written inthe holy booksI tried to read, back to front. I always take a second look,hoping to understand what IContinue reading “Dead Batteries and Signs From God”
Labour and Work
There isand wasand will always begreat distance betweenthis sideand the other. At the moment of opening,existence is a journeyfrom … to …whereall travelers must move,bound, as by blood-signed contract,under order ofwhich God (and science is a God)or ethic prevails. A star can be a traveler,a seed as wellthoughthe necessary steps,from a place to one further,areContinue reading “Labour and Work”
The Workhouse
It’s pretty human to shirk,to shy awayfrom what looks likework butno matter his conditionor how late the hour,sooner or later, on calloused knees,each exits illusion’s bowerand punches a clock. From first breath indentured,don’t we all,whether slaving for Peter,for Paul,or Joe Blow Commercedown the block,have misted life’s hard laboursole on offer,to answerwhat a wandering dream forbode,andContinue reading “The Workhouse”
In the Workshop
It’s not alone a sainted smithystands,tools in hand,surveying the work before, ashere we meet all manner of men,some ‘wo-’, some no…not rich,nor poor andeach must enter at the labourer’s door.
Piano Lesson
Tiny vibrations crowdthe roof’s peak,slide downand splash across new-leafed trees,midpoint of the half season. In the beholder’s eye,colour is rich yet,a wet thing whoselayers are exposed,shady green under excited yellowunder washed out, delicate blue. A human, passive witness andamateur scientist,imaginary note pad in hand,tries to understand this,perhaps as sheaves ofimpossible music,wondering,“Who authored bliss?” God justContinue reading “Piano Lesson”
Robert On The Air 