Glass sparkled roadway /
cold winds and clotted metal /
Christmas and cop lights.
Tag Archives: poem
Haiku to you Thursday: “Clotted Christmas”
Glass sparkled roadway /
cold winds and clotted metal /
Christmas and cop lights.
Filed under Christmas, Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Silly Saturday: “Santa’s Setback”
This is a note to tell you
that Wall Street has taken away
the things I really needed:
my workshop, my reindeer, my sleigh.
I now make my rounds on a jackass;
he’s old and crippled and slow.
So, if you don’t see me come Christmas,
I’ll be out on my ass in the snow.
Filed under cartoon by author, Christmas, poetry, Silly Saturday
Haiku to you Thursday: “Heart”
Take apart my heart:
blood vessels, valves, and muscles.
Your love beats there still.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
The Devil’s Dictionary: Abstainer, Adage, Age
In our continuing quest to revisit a classic, or even a curiosity from the past and see how relevant it is, we continue with The Devil’s Dictionary by Ambrose Bierce. Originally published in newspaper installments from 1881 until 1906. You might be surprised how current many of the entries are.
For example, here are definitions for Abstainer, Adage, and Age. The Old definitions are Bierce’s. The New definitions are mine or somebody else contemporary. The new definitions can also be simply examples of The Devil’s Dictionary definitions. From time to time, just as it was originally published, we will come back to The Devil’s Dictionary, for a look at it then and how it applies today. Click on Devil’s Dictionary in the tags below to bring up the other entries.
Old Definition
Abstainer, n. A weak person who yields to the temptation of denying himself a pleasure. A total abstainer is one who abstains from everything but abstention, and especially from inactivity in the affairs of others.
Adage, n. Boned wisdom from weak teeth.
Age, n. That period of life in which we compound for the vices that we still cherish by reviling those that we have no longer the enterprise to commit.
New Definition
There once was a man, an abstainer,
a four-square, by-the-book refrainer,
who couldn’t live up to the adage —
something wise and about cabbage.
He refused to believe it was a sustainer.
He did not believe he must dine
without a proper glass of red wine.
Upon such a stewed mess,
boiled and very plain no less:
the adage about cabbage, he declined.
He now hangs out in a ratty ol’ garden,
but eats only his own private slumgullion.
Yet, to all who pass by
and not wanting to know why,
he says cabbage has made him well again.
Filed under Ambrose Bierce, Devil's Dictionary, poetry by author
Freeform Friday: “Bah … Festival”
Bah … Festival
[Poet’s note: My poetic response below is to the message in the link above.]
Happy festival of planets and stars
of magic men that travel from afar
of little people who slave all night
in the cold so someone else can take flight.
Happy festival of growing debt
of presents you don’t want or haven’t seen yet
of holiday cheer without smiles
of jammed parking lots and lines for miles.
Yes, Merry Christmas to you and yours,
attending parties that feel like chores.
Yes, Merry Christmas and presents, too,
and the tree that lights: red, green, and blue.
You say, “Merry Christmas is all I’ll hear,
and please don’t feel less of any good cheer.
Kwanzaa and Hanukkah, well they’re just fine.
You have yours and I’ll have mine.”
So in this season of brotherly love,
of peace, good will, and stuff from above,
when a big fat man dressed all in red
driving flying reindeer and a toy-laden sled
slides down your chimney in the middle of the night,
even if you don’t have any, though you just might,
coming at the moment when your dreams are strong
and hope has it greatest chance to belong,
I hope you have a Merry Christmas without dread
and don’t let Happy Holidays play with your head.
For if you do and you then let it stew
your heart will miss out of the headiest of brews.
Filed under Freeform Friday, Holidays, poetry by author
Haiku to you Thursday: “Clattering”
Clattering words and /
rattling hearts sweep away /
a lover’s warm embrace.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Haiku to you Thursday: “Holiday feast”
The meal and the grace,
the sustenance and the hope,
each handled with love.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Haiku to you Thursday: “Touch me not”
Touch not what I touch,
hoping only to feel worlds
and none of yourself.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
What I’m working on at the moment
I edit, write, design, edit, even do some the photography for a neighborhood newsletter for the historic neighborhood in which I live. Below is what I am working as part of the newsletter. I did not take the photos, but have cropped and processed them. They were color. They are now black and white, because the newsletter is printed in black and white.
Some of my neighbors went on rafting trip a couple of months back and the photos are from that day trip. The poem, “The Captain said,” is mine.
The Captain said
The boat is fine, the captain said;
he said it to our face.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
the river sets the pace.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
and then he said no more.
The boat is fine, the captain said
as we sailed away from shore.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
as the river tossed us about.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
as some of us wanted out.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
steering for the roughest part.
The boat is fine, the captain said;
he’d said it from the start.
The boat is fine, the captain said
as the waves thumped into the boat
The boat is fine, the captain said
as some of us tried to float.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
Come back again next year.
The boat is fine, the captain said —
but captain, I hope you’re not here.
Pete said the best place to sit on the raft was in the center, but two people had quickly seized those seats before he and Lauren could get in. He said he also felt that at times the captain / person steering the raft, aimed for the roughest patches of water to make sure he and the other members of the crew got their money’s worth in experience.
Filed under neighborhood, newsletter, poetry by author, writing
Haiku to you Thursday: “Clouds”
Clouds lumped together;
left over from the night’s tears.
Dreams stain the morning.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author



