Saturday, July 31, 2010

Poem with One Syllable Words
(except for the title)

"Scram!" I scream.
I mean, "come here."
I mean, "I love you."
I mean, "help!"

Thursday, July 29, 2010

I don't know who I am
so I Google the blanket octopus
that unfurls its Batman cape
and nods its ungainly head
another sci fi brainy alien

My daughter met manatees
at the boathouse in Miami,
they backfloated, drank
from the hose, slow-bodied,
drowsy-witted, the big one's
back striped by the blade
of a speed boat.

Two robins fight or court
I don't know them
A third flies in
below a cloud shaped
like a fish. The sky
is whitest behind the hill.
A fishing boat shifts
on the lake.
Mist moves away
from brightness.
Another bird produces
a tweet that repeats
that seems out of its control.
The robin stutter stops
across the points of light
that tip the grass blades
walks a step
two foot hops
stops. Drops beak, misses.

The breeze rises,
the sun a whole ball
separate from the hill.
The robin hunkers, dips its yellow beak,
misses again. I do that too.
Catch and release, yes, but
miss and release too.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Old Crossword Puzzle Poetry Draft from 7/9/10

What define us are our acts
sitting in the shade with ades
or driving home in Larks
we stare into the night - there's Ursa
while elsewhere there's a crash in Ulster
and someone's found a shard of gneiss
under the refrigerator. How acidic
your ade, how tryingly
you shake shaggy head, so much ado
and you not even Kafka.
Oh sweet, oh entres nous
I left my change on Elm
this life this lemon not a test
what's best? Who knows? Toy
with blocks or check your lists
we try, we die, we break our necks
ah love ah life how genial
to watch the snake uncoil
to try or not to cope
to run like hell like Adam.
A baby's grin my alibi
your wisdom dusty as sage
and no ink in my pens.


Well trusty rusty that and on and on
we hanker more - what more lovely
than time and air in both my lungs?
And thus begun I wander willy nilly
cross this lit up screen - oh peanut, oh bean,
when you were green and all this world
our cloister - shucks kids, its so soon over
what more matterful than that my
days are full of you and sun beats down
and Mars grows daily closer.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Poem begun with a line by Emily Dickinson

Bring me the sunset in a cup
sunrise in a red lacquer bowl.
Bring me another day in which
to loll and listen, dig in the garden,
pluck apricots heated by sun,
bend forward to suck juice -
another namaste.
Bring me the clear August night
under a new moon, Milky Way
to wander past the Pleides and Mars.
Soon enough it's Autumn
the sky that wakes me deluded by fog.

Thursday, July 08, 2010

Daily Crossword Puzzle Poem Draft for Thursday, July 8

He says the thoughts don't count, it's acts
that move the planet. I sip lemonade
as the sun gets out of the way for Ursa.
We've waxed ridiculous as we've sat
in lawn chairs or the sand. Entre nous
we've taxed each other tryingly
vying for right or the shinier toy.
Ah, girl and boy - (thank Kafka
for the cockroach). We dis-ease the elm
in flinging at each other - Errol
Sheik and sheik, nobody cowers
here. We butt heads like wrynecks.
Let's turn to thoughts, they're most congenial
and even if menial, beautifully uncoil
or roil inside so I appear to cope.
There's hope for us malingerers
I don't know exactly where. Oh Adam,
were you here and what's your alibi?
We stalk the sky where there's no sage
or any hope in clouds. Raise pens
and praise our luck - our words are sonic
and a tonic more trusty than a tsar.

Wednesday, July 07, 2010

Daily Crossword Puzzle Poem Draft for July 7. 2010

Did the Romans think in italic?
Did the shah?
Italians on the sea of blu,
and you all glorious and linear.
In Triest where we were held up
in the fantasy - not the eeriest -
I was so anxious
I couldn't even aim.
What's to gain except the pot?
why not serve the suava
or rot? If I was Kim
and you were Gunga Din
would we still wind up in Joliet?
Crepuscular or trepid
The hirsute eat more iron
Her suits required irons
Their curtains were chinz not iron
and me without Yvonne.
Walk on.


Tuesday, July 06, 2010

The Beetle saga continues, with a probable happy ending.
I started it, uh, didn't start it two mornings ago.
My hypothesis - it was parked on too steep an incline
and couldn't get fuel. Jim called our mechanic and lo,
the mechanic thought the same. Jim parked it on the flat
and no action. We left it to the alchemy of time and
played with our weekend guests. This morning Jim
came inside and said, "Guess what?" He had taken
the front of the car in his two hands, shaken it vigorously
and then the car - STARTED! I've just driven over
the pass, uneventfully, and am now going to drop it
at our mechanic's for diagnostic testing and the various
voodoo the computerized hoo hah puts the car through.
Right now I'm having coffee in the horrifying too-muchness
of the Bellevue Whole Foods. Jim's in a meeting
and I don't want to sit in the car all alone as darkness falls
out there in car fixing land.

AHHH, to go home and rip open the envelopes from
the held mail and clean the house and then head south
and east and east and east to Summer Fishtrap!

Sunday, July 04, 2010

Life is more than slaps and jabs
do not waste your time - taste
marigolds - set your barbecue to char
oh the oriole, the oracle, the oreo!
There's nothing you that's usual!
Cha cha, tango and the hora!
Cicadian is a nicer rhythm than the Roth
We've packed false noses, do not act
amazed we've parted seven seas
and named the thousand islets
would you've preferred to hunker
in the molded chair? Sing O'Hare
and Logan, do not persist naive
your life will end do not pretend that's nada
Depress me not and do not do the dirty
solo. Bar your doors to Kirby men and Avon
what do you crave on? It won't make you ill.
is you is or is you aint them doers?
waves waste shores there're more to trek.
There's more than cling to clemency.
Your flaming wang's decree.
Ah me, ah you, what else?
We've swatted, spat and sat
enough - shipboard now, avast!
strip all your gears and sprockets
Meadowlarks to you we're merely
crystal in the geode.
Your grayly beard won't make you Lear.
Oh bore me not, we've tossed our ores
for naught why not be otters?

Thursday, July 01, 2010

Allen Braden, who teaches in Tacoma, on Verse Daily yesterday.
The sound and the sense
New York Times Daily Crossword Puzzle Poem Draft for 6/30/10

To wit to woo to be or not to be a twit
to glide across a stage a sage like Glover
We shun the drums and toss away your boa
Twine spells to rout the noxious weeds and Reno
rose is a rose is a rose no matter you rename
and fame was what we didn't want - remember?
Alas the cherries bloat - if only it were dry
what can we try, sky closed as shuttered inn
and bins loom empty dark while some
retreat to godthrown fears, that's ceded,
oh my penly dears, my lambchops.
The cloudy sky has turned us navy
and you, oh nothing I would take in lieu
for any Boolean cerulean indigo hue.
amethyst in the geode, and you my ore
my heaven duck my light-bearing eleven.