July 18
The body fails in predictable ways but sometimes I am still surprised when someone is and then is not
Month: July 2016
July 17 (in which I try to write and format a poem on a smartphone and it goes predictably badly…)
The late-July breeze, distinctive in ease, a quiet morning slipping by, I wake and say I’m here! I’m here! somehow still a fear of loss, despite the day unfolding like a lawn chair, predictable, light-weight . To have, to hold– a leaf-dappled scene a girder on the building, perforated at regular intervals and the word EMPTY over and over, is it a warning? or a confirmation . There is so much space inside these days, so little tethering […]
July 17
The late-July breeze, distinctive in ease, a quiet morning slipping by, I wake and say I’m here! I’m here! somehow still a fear of loss, despite the day unfolding like a lawn chair, predictable, light-weight .
July 12
another day box-like in progression, predictability, oh inflexibility of time– I’d rather an ocean I’d rather that ocean sound that imperfect rhythm constant yet somehow revelatory I know the pilgrim changes it’s not the pilgrimage per se but things are always more tolerable somewhere else
July 10
Everything defined by space, in gestalt, they say figure -ground reversal, emphasizing that negative space, sometimes a new image pops out, at the loss of the original– seeing it another way it cannot be re-seen . here the gingko indifferent sky glimpsed through scaffolding at angles, is it contained, constrained? somehow the mind says no . but what does the mind know? a morning breeze tinged with the sea lifts all hopes but sometimes morning […]
July 7
Rain starting to come in the open window the day says get to the point and July as a whole– I don’t know, it is somehow insubmersible . a stream of ragged people go by with unclear words but that tone is unmistakable . water beads up on the glass, imperfect, but linear– . and so, this month goes on
July 5
colder this side of the pass rain and the threat of rain, almost worse i think for being imagined, and you couldn’t imagine the things i can think in the vastness of a room
poetry + postcards
This looks like a great project for August Off to find some postcards…
July 4
A cool cloudy morning, leniency after the weekend’s heat. A dog throws itself down the ravine in pursuit of a ball, the neighbor unleashes a cascade of glass bottles getting ready to pack up the house. All day in the mountains yesterday, sweat, scree, snow. Aching today, a reminder, the summit hard-earned, but elation tempering the bite of elevation, and descent always less benign than we thought.
July 2
Morning, overcast, insistent doves. A bright gray, an unsettled wind saying soon this will all blow over. The lake houses all full this weekend, bits of chatter from other porches, I mean, it is what it is— or nearer to home the silent neighbor, surveying his swaying grape vines . Our grapes are dusky-hued, small beads, the birds aren’t even interested yet, the basil deep green and starting to bolt– expectations a difficult thing. Still, the pepper […]
OPTIONAL POETRY 