Archive for the ‘Seasons’ Category

How can I not sing about rain
It is April
If only for a few more days
Cloudy skies
wet sidewalks, soaking grass
raise me.
Pull me up  from the trenches
Tickle my face and back of my neck
It may be the end of drought
the rising of small creeks
the flooding of rivers
The joy of the flight of birds
Roofs playing the rhythm and rhyme
of rain drops
Down spouts trickling maple seeds
Stay my April rain
If only for a few more days.

DSS

 

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As the street lights hum to life
roads reflect with orange flavored sheen
car lights bright of red and white
leave trails behind the wiper blades
Mercury vapor parking lots,
piled high with snows remains,
white hot stains of rocker salt
are washed away by the winter rain

many nights of snow and skidding ice
with no hope of warmer days
we bundled up in down feather coats
and followed the orange plowers sand and blade.
we slowly walked in our winter boots
our minds wandered to nicer days
when winds would change from north to south
and blow in the warm winter rain.

DSS

 

Today is a rewind to dust off something that DSS likes. He is thinking of those back east this week.

Captain! Sometimes the most important person is you!
You!….. you dizzled drapes dropper
You! …. you measly mound of moose melt
Get up and fight the sons of bitches!
Hit ’em in the face!
Kick ’em in the balls!
Fuck’em up!

Now wait a minute……..
Think about this
The last skull you cracked still isn’t healed.
And you lost your Secret Society of Greenwich Ring.
Oh! Those were the days!
There was beer, blood and Brylcreem
smeared all over everything.
Royal Fly-boys!…. the Bastards!

Wake Up!!

Whew! That reoccurring WWI dream again!
What time is it?
6 O’clock already!

I HATE Daylight Saving Time!!!

OC

(DST has that affect on some people. This is OC’s  twice annually modified rant about it. Brylcreem??  John   )

The New Year is approaching. Damn, I’m glad I’ve almost made it another 366 days. Some days went quickly, some days dragged by. Time, a very relative thing. I wonder if time would even exist if there was no life in the universe. Time may only be a remnant of life itself. What difference does time make to a rock or gas or liquid? Life is the only thing that has an expiring life span. Whether made intelligent and conscious or only a one-celled microscopic plant or bug. Life is born and soon dies.

What difference does time make to a rock, it doesn’t give a shit how long it takes for it to be first spewed from the center of the earth until it is blown to hell and gone as a speck of sand. A billion, 2 billions years? So what, it’s just a fricking rock. I have, maybe if I’m lucky, 77.6 years. Then I’ll be blown to hell and gone as a speck of the star-dust that I was made from. Time is a very precious thing to me. I have a few short years, then I won’t care what fucking time it is either. And in maybe another billion years some of my atoms may also end up nothing more than a particle in some boulder stuck out in the middle of Utah somewhere. You’ve seen them, a big fucking rock balanced on the edge of a cliff, not giving a shit whether it will fall or not. That will be part me and you, out in the middle of a desert in Numbfrickin, Utah.

And we won’t care if it’s January, February, March or time for supper. Because our life will have gone by just a shade under 300,000,000 meters per second.

Happy New Year!

E.

(Again, I apologize for E’s frankness. He very seldom has an optimistic or even a poetic view of getting another year older.    John)

Summer in December

What’s that feeling you get
hearing that voice or song or music
remembering
who you were with, the thing you were doing
the time, the song,
the black and white picture in your mind
the favorite shirt, the wild hair.
What is that feeling
The down deep feeling
sort of good but empty, sort of sad,
how many years and how many are gone
Getting what we need,
But so many left behind
Listening under the near full moon
The words, the notes,
with that dusty woman.
The hair scent and the feel of goose bumped skin.
Feeling summer in December

DSS

It is -9 F here this morning, I’m OK, the pipes aren’t frozen, the snow was only a skiff, and I have no place I need to go. We are stocked up on bread, milk and batteries, our survival is assured, now if we only had a couple of boxes of Girl Scout cookies, I’ve heard stories of old couples surviving for 8 or 10 days in their snow-covered cars with only a blanket, a bottle of Aquafina and two boxes of Thin Mints,  An amazing story, somewhere out in northwestern Kansas if I remember right. This kind of weather makes you want to think of more pleasant seasons.

Here’s a poem I wrote in December three years ago, just to get winter off my mind. I’m getting that feeling again.

First Posted: December 15, 2013

DSS

Thanks!

Posted: November 24, 2016 in free verse, poem, poet, Seasons, writing
Tags: , , , ,

Happy Thanksgiving! To all my friends and Followers!

May we all have nothing but redeeming joys and pleasures.

Thank you!

DSS, E, OC and John

This Thing of Spring

Posted: March 21, 2016 in free verse, poem, poet, poetry, Seasons

Open the doors to this thing of Spring
let purple buds spread and dandelions plant themselves deep.
Among the changing grass from brown to green
the six-legged bugs will be lost to sharp beaked and orange breasted birds.
Follow the north creeping eastern Sun
warming the wind, rain and river wanderers.
Walk slowly together  under  rain and umbrella silks
with bare feet in buckle rubber boots that splatter shallow pools.
Turn your rose cheeks to the sky and rejoice in the wet taste of this thing of spring.

DSS

In 25 words or less, …. describe the universe.

Moon-joins-Venus-finder-chart I think it is because my grandfather and father were so attuned to the seasons, the stars, planets and the weather. They both taught me what they knew of the universe at every opportunity. No, neither used the Farmer’s Almanac.

When my father and I would be fishing and night would creep up on us, as I rowed the boat back to shore, he would gaze into the sky and point out the constellations and the visible planets and comment on the phase of the moon. I knew the major constellations years before I ever saw a star chart in science class. Each change of the seasons was an event at my house, even if only just to declare its arrival. I learned to listen because the lessons were short. Each was probably only in 25 words or less.

Many nights I stayed up for or was awakened by my Dad to see an eclipse, a satellite pass over head or the northern lights. The night skies were so much clearer then. An occasional distant incandescent yard light was the only interference we ever experienced at that time. Few today know the details of the night skies due to the bright lights shining from every city, town or home. Few have really seen the true thickness of the Milky Way as we did many years ago. If you haven’t lately, travel out as far as you can into the country side, away from city lights, to truly see just how beautiful the night sky really is. The places with no man-made light interference are getting harder and harder to find. But it will be very rewarding.

It is the knowing that is so wonderful. The knowing of what direction you are traveling at night just by knowing the time, the season and locating a couple stars . The knowing of when to expect a full moon so you will be able to use the light to go fishing by or when would be the best time for a night flight. Being aware of what time to expect sunrise or evening twilight as the seasons pass is very useful. It may sound silly now but it is a oneness we can develop with the universe by learning these things. It is a factual thing. It has nothing to do with the spiritual or the mystical, it is just knowledge.

This time of year, it is very hard to look into the heavens and not wonder why or wonder who created all of this and we can easily be amazed. But how can we expect to learn or discover the spiritual meaning unless we have made an effort to understand and learn the fundamental facts that have already been discovered? Only in knowing the physical truths of our universe will we ever be able to begin to discover and understand the why or the who. At each season change, isn’t it a good time to learn and wonder this? Even if only 25 words at a time.

E

It is the 31st, the last day of the year 2015. It will only happen again in our dreams, stories, poems and imagination. I will remember the fog this morning and the temperature. I will probably start any stories or poems about this day with, “It was a dark and foggy morning and I felt the chill”. I will probably end my stories and poems about this day with “I will make that resolution again, this year”.

Of course , we in the Northern Hemisphere will be celebrating while freezing our butts off watching a Ball drop or Peach drop or a Cranberry drop or Apple drop, what ever your state’s veggie, fruit or iconic image is. Everyone counting down from 10 – 9- 8 – 7 ……-1 , watch a fireworks display then run  back indoors where it is warm and have another drink, kiss or dance with a pretty girl (wife) next to you or eat another one of those little pizza rolls. But down deep, we would really rather be building a large bonfire in the backyard, gather around it naked and dance and roll around together to music made by drums of  animal skin, played by bare bones and roasting an entire cow. Those Pagans really knew how to party!

If we are in the Southern Hemisphere, aka Australia, they do it right, also. They will be having a drink on the beach, surfing, watching girls in bikinis and throwing another shrimp, fish or veggie, what ever is their Providence’s favorite, on the barbie. I think New Years Eve and New Years Day in January was meant for the Southern Hemisphere, don’t you?

There really isn’t anything special about this day or holiday eve. If we were remembering a past New Year of a few hundred years ago, it probably would be remembered as in March, around the March Equinox . Of course, I am not sure that they would have been using the same names for the months. It seems that every nation had a favorite string of 12 or 13 month names that they used for a calendar. Whatever the month, it probably was a month named after a pagan god. To me, the time of an Equinox, either in Fall or Spring makes more sense to celebrate a new year. But if the Romans or the Christians want it to start in January, the month of the pagan god Janus, so be it. It may be because the god Janus was also known as having two faces. That somehow seems appropriate, almost poetic, now that I think of it. Ok! January it is! I will openly accept January first as New Years Day but secretly, when I’m alone, I will diligently be working to change it to March 21st, when it should be. Isn’t that what Janus would do?

A real pagan New Year celebration, during March Equinox,  that is what I’ll work for. I will make that resolution again, this year.

OC

 

I wake up alone and cold, I check the time, it’s 05:50 AM. I realize, that’s not my clock! I’m not in my own bed. It’s OK, I’m on the road again.

I calculate how many minutes I have before I have to drag out of bed to face the shower. I say face the shower because it is cold in the room and it is dreadful to think of getting cold dripping wet. No matter how hot I make it, there comes a time when I must turn off the hot water, open the curtain and grab the towel. The blast of chilled air as I open the shower curtain is the most uncomfortable feeling of the day. I’m naked, dripping dog wet, chilled and with a primal urge to shake, nose to tail. I plan how in the same motion I will grab the towel and slam the bathroom door shut. What was unnoticed air entering a few minutes ago, now feels like a freezer cold draft. I can’t dry fast enough.

As I shave, I realize I must do the second most dreadful thing of the day. I must make the coffee, hotel coffee. Enough said about that, if you drink coffee, you know what I mean. The first cup of coffee must be drank hot and before you are dressed.  Sitting in your shorts, cup held full palmed, gazing straight ahead unfocused is best. I’ve tried other ways of having the first cup of morning coffee. I’ve put it in a thermos jug the night before, but by 6:00 am it is lukewarm. I have requested room service in the hotels that offer it, it usually arrives late and it is cold or it arrives on time and it is cold. It’s impossible to deliver hot coffee anywhere. It will always lose it’s heat on the trip up the elevator. Even if you have a microwave in the room, reheated coffee is not the same.

Facing the cold vehicle is not at all enjoyable either. Warming up a car at a hotel is different too. First of all, the car is always parked in the farthest available parking space. I must start it up and let it sit to warm up enough to soften the ice and snow. So I either have to start it and sit there freezing my butt waiting for it to warmup or take a chance. The chance is starting it up, turning on all of the heat then locking it up, leave it in the parking lot running, while I run back to the lobby for more luke warm hotel coffee. Doing this at home in the driveway is one thing. Doing this in the outskirts of St. Louis is another. Or are the chances of anyone wanting to steal an ice-covered, frozen vehicle pretty slim?

I guess being on the road is an experience of a lack of warmth.

 

Such is the life of John