Advertisements
How Many Friends
Image
Reply
Category Archives: Poems
A Portable Poem
If you type, you’ll understand. Here I present another quirk of typewriters in poetic form. ~TH~
Autumn Valentine
I just received my 1936 copy of Dorothy Parker‘s “The Collected Poetry Of Dorothy Parker”. Here I share the final poem in the book, a wry and timely piece, shining a succinct light on the ever changing attitudes of love and infatuation. That gal cracks me up. ~TH~
AUTUMN VALENTINE
In May my heart was breaking-
Oh wide the wound, and deep!
And bitter it beat at waking,
And sore it split in sleep.
And when it came November,
I sought my heart, and sighed,
“Poor thing, do you remember?”
“What heart was that?” it cried.
Improvised Reeds
Improvised Reeds
It was my mother who taught me to cradle a
Blade of grass between my thumbs
Cuticles aligned and haunches pressed together
Creating the reed chamber
The first time she fashioned this magic
We sat by our hickory tree
The rock-hard nuts would sound off on any car
Parked too close to the cinderblock wall
My mother and I shared a penchant for silence
When we were among the fall leaves and branches
She plucked a broad grass from between us, blowing
Setting it loudly aquiver, shrill as a clarinet
Startling miraculous sound!
Please, yes! Show me how it’s done
It was then my mother taught me
The pleasant nature of patient curiosity.
Last Day Of Summer, 2016
slowing maples
Last Day Of Summer, 2016
So now I write of the end of a season
Orchids, finches, late morning dew
Seated outside in the shade I watch
My tabby lolling in a dirt patch near
The grasses, rolling and pawing at
Insects; then suddenly preening –
Then suddenly; napping
The goldy feline queen has decided today
That the screen porch is close enough
To the real outdoors –
She languishes on the padded wicker while
I entertain my morning guest –
The southern breeze
She is seated next to me, wearing light blue
Facing the direction from which she came
In a chair soon destined for the storage barn
We discuss any subject that suits the day –
Ferns in the garden, slowing maples
Gray silver dollar packets of seeds
Empty feeders hang nearby
The birds are all quiet just now
Babies have fledged and now they nest
Exhausted, just as the sun is flagging
Soon the earth will pitch that sun
Across the horizon each day
A lazy bright stone skipped across a graying pond
Frow where my companion once came
My wife will fill the feeders soon enough
Marching through a knee deep snow –
I will watch her fulfill this labor of love
From the finch and orchid bay window
Facing the shadowy southland
Contemplating a new winter poem
~TH~
Archy and Don Marquis
On the tail of yesterday’s entry, I continued to dig deeper into the lives of Archy, Mehitabel, and Don Marquis. I downloaded a book of poetry written by D.M. – for free! The poetry is quite good, especially when you keep in mind the era from which it was written.
Here for your enjoyment is Sam Waterston reading a delightful poem by Don Marquis, regarding an assignment that Archy (the typing cockroach) was covering. ~TH~
Orbs Have Taken To The Skies
A truncated, self replicating poem that I created, based on a cocktail napkin that inspired a little bit of art. You yourself should try a little bit of art.
… orbs have taken to the skies and time has predicted itself to fly and …
