1.23.12
Your water dragon
. has delivered its liquid
haul, fluid and warm
against a stark white set–
the dusky cemetery
. a perfect backdrop, shrouded
. in mist–
1.23.12
Your water dragon
. has delivered its liquid
haul, fluid and warm
against a stark white set–
the dusky cemetery
. a perfect backdrop, shrouded
. in mist–
Posted in poems | Tags: Chinese New Year, Fun-a-day 2012, poems, water, Water Dragon
After last night’s state of the union speech, I was pulled to compose this piece.
Thanks, Mr. President.
___________________________________________________________________
1.24.12
Our waters are strong
our shores ready for jobs
we pledge to open our waters
for more drilling,
. more spoilage,
. more fire,
. more chemical dumping–
we pledge to make
Sunoco and Exxon,
BP and Shell,
Halliburton and Chevron
more profitable, to put America
back to work.
Our strong waters are open
to the drill. We stand,
feet firm on these stolen soils,
and proclaim, we are bigger
than the ocean–
Posted in poems | Tags: Fun-a-day 2012, Gulf oil spill, poems, State of the Union 2012, thanks Mr. President, water
I have been a bit behind in posting. I hope you have had a good week!
Here are the newest water poems:
1.17.12
Each day, my twitter feed
lists dramatic weather, pleas for
snow, concern about our
lack of winter.
Each day, I look out the window
to analyse cloud formations.
Each day, the sky yields
disappointing results. Water
is moving in a different direction.
Drip. drip. drip
of rain or sleet
crossing this boundary,
lakes open to the clouds above.
1.18.12
a wash a shore a drift
and this settling
rough seas ahead see the waves
off in the distance? Thisness
called tidal pool
tribal remembrance of what
echo on land pulse of the planet
plants speaking deep under
reef and ledge–
1.19.12
here, and here, she
. said pointing
to the spots where we would
apply drops of luminous water–
a clear glass filled,
map charted — first, California
and Colorado, Arizona and Nevada,
the snaking pipelines emptying–
Your last drop of water
might appear as a snowflake
or morning dew on a leaf in the garden,
we just don’t know what
this will look like, he said –
what waters’ rise will
teach, we here learning how
to build bridges, roads,
and houses –
an exhale and the hum
of the unforeseen –
1.20.12
Ocean just warm enough
. clouds catch dump drown
the small towns underneath
rainfall exceeding records not by decimals
. but by double digits
sand on fields that used
to feed hundreds
acres bare,
waiting–
Our human estimates conservative
. this agenda radical
have more fun being
. aggressively naive–
we just don’t know, he shook
his head, voice softening–
1.21.12
how the snow–
how nothing happened – just
a spin, slight fan, ice melting
down the back –
how the dishes in the sink –
how hot-headed, I – just
loud enough to be
heard in the bedroom –
how the ordinary afternoon –
how ice and shovel – just
then they emerged,
offered hellos and quips about
the plowman’s precision,
garden unscathed –
1.22.12
I was just thinking how I always needed
an ocean grandmother to hear my stories –
I looked in my cupboard and found it
wanting — no sea salt, no foam, no striped
stones for wishing –
I was just thinking that I needed
this roar, this deep silence,
but I couldn’t ask her for it, could I?
I have been thinking that all I needed
were a few sand dollars, a stone in the shape
of a heart, and the surf lapping
at my winter boots –
it was this, tonight, this sunset,
the eider ducks bobbing with the waves,
that reminded me that all I needed
was –
Posted in nature, poems | Tags: Bill McKibben, Fun-a-day 2012, poems, Scarborough beach, water
1.16.12
water, kettle on, hot water, tea
soak beans, mix yeast and water, wait
wash hands, rinse dishes
tea, shower, flush toilet, wash hands
fill kettle, wash dishes
clean counter, wash sink, fill sink
soak mushroom bag, water dripping, drain sink
heat kettle, make tea, drink water
mist rosemary, boil beans
drink water, heat kettle, make tea
wash hands, drink more water
rinse mushrooms, wash dishes
condensation on the window glass
soak pots, wash hands
heat kettle, drink water, wash pan
wash face, wash hands, brush teeth
refill cat dish, flush toilet
wash hands
Posted in poems | Tags: daily routines, Fun-a-day 2012, poems, water, water awareness
1.14.12
Sun glints across
convergence of snow and rain,
ice coating head stones,
creating brilliant pools
of light. “I will wake the dead
with my walking,” she said.
Crust skitters across smooth
dips, traveling from her feet.
Posted in poems | Tags: Evergreen Cemetery, Fun-a-day 2012, ice, poems, water
1.12.12
Just add water and stir.
You will be tranformed into
a venture capitalist who
believes that corporations are
people, who has made millions
laying off workers who were not
performing to your high expectations.
The ingredients of this mix are
proprietary, but you, too, could
invent your own formula.
Just add water, stir.
You are transported to a large
northeastern state where if you work
hard enough, you can leave your
impoverished roots behind in favor
of becoming the head of a corporation,
and, later, the state itself. All it takes is
a little theft, a little patronage.
This package contains the American Dream,
high fructose corn syrup, polyunsaturated
lard, and confectioners’ sugar. Just heat
to an overflowing boil and serve.
Posted in poems | Tags: Fun-a-day 2012, poems, politics, water
1.11.12
Today, divers searched the icy Kennebec River
for a missing toddler. “You never know what you will
find there,” said a man involved in the diving operation.
“I have seen all kinds of things.”
Grief lies just under the surface, the story familiar,
yet we are continually shocked into daze
by news reports, in-depth interviews, pleas,
and search missions. We can predict the ending
without even watching news at six. Someone
will be implicated, someone will be lost.
An empty searching hollows through ice floats,
calls us to pay attention, only to forget
when the next report overshadows today’s grim news.
Posted in poems | Tags: Ayla Reynolds, Fun-a-day 2012, Kennebec River, poems, water
1.10.12
The windows shrouded in condensation,
soup cooking for hours. Later,
water pools on the sills, mold
forms black networks along the edges.
We breathe in and out,
examining the growth.
Posted in poems | Tags: Fun-a-day 2012, poems, water