From  A SONG OF PARSLEY, by Irving Vanderblock-Wheedle.

Ah, the inimitable and irreplaceable Dr. Boli!

In which I brush the cobwebs off an old poem that has no punctuation

Your Eyes
   written May, 1998
-------------------------------

Our house so seldom empty
Greets me only with the sound of settling
A ticking a whirring
So rarely filled with silence
Are there echoes even now
The clamor laughter angry ardor
I can almost see them
But what I see is what I miss
Your eyes
You there in the house
All the years the love your eyes
All the ways and times
Even you there in the dark
How can I know when your eyes are on me
Dizzies me
How your eyes know mine
I kiss your neck
Your closed eyelids
There have been times your tears have wet my lips
Then what comfort can I give
Solace to settle your nerves
When like as not I am the cause of tears
Downcast I wander past
Your eyes meet me before my eyes meet yours
I know your eyes
Sinking creaking in next to you
Settling down to your lips
My closed eyes blink open to meet
Yours searching
What
My eyebrow curve of temple
My heart
Always looking to me
Even when I am away
Or when you are away
How do I know
I know I feel your love your gaze
Your inward eyes are turned toward me
Me the one who does not know the worth of anything
Doesn't know the value of a dollar
Ah but you
You are the treasure in that field
Yes all that and more
Some day
The dust settling over my dead years
Dead artifacts and personal effects
Among them a photo of your eyes
Perhaps our great-to-the-Nth grandchildren
One can only hope
May be taken by your eyes too
The wonder of such love
So you can see
This is not finished

A Triptych of Tanka About Running

June 8 2013



I.
Hot red rubber track,
Four hundred meter repeats.
Best part of my run --
In suddenly clear focus:
A lizard on the sidewalk.

II.
On a predawn run,
Against the luminous sky:
An osprey hunting,

One wheeling white pelican,
A black line of cormorants.

III.
Cracked adobe trail,
Doing some miles in the hills.
Highlight of the run:
Up in the wind on the ridge,
Luminous stalks of dry grass.

[Tanka  is a form of poetry that originated in Japan, in which the lines are arranged with a set number of syllables, in the form 5, 7, 5, 7, 7.] 

 

Poem for May Day 2013

A SONG OF SPRING 05/01/2013


THE VOICE OF THE LOVER:
A frog he would a woo-ing go...

CHORUS OF CEDAR WAXWINGS:
Thee, thee, thee, thee, thee, thee.

THE VOICE OF THE LOVER:
In just-spring...

THE VOICE OF THE BELOVED:
Can you change the bag in the vacuum cleaner for me?

THE VOICE OF THE LOVER:
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white...

CHORUS OF HOUSE FINCHES:
You, you, oh, to be with you, be, oh, be, oh, with you, you, you.

THE VOICE OF THE LOVER:
Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed...

THE VOICE OF THE BELOVED:
The carpet is wet there because the dog got sick.

THE VOICE OF THE LOVER:
...And let our winds / Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste...

CHORUS OF HOUSE WRENS:
Grrrrrrr.  With you.  With you.  With you.

THE VOICE OF THE LOVER:
From you have I been absent in the spring...

THE VOICE OF THE BELOVED:
The toilet is stopped up.

- - -

(c) 2013 www.crowndot.com

Tanka for 13 February 2013

 

Bare elderberry

Branches reaching to the sky

The violet sky;

Winter wind has stripped the leaves

But -- ah -- soon new leaves will come.