A Much-Needed Fix

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© 2015 by Charles Lyman

 

 

“Nature detonates your mind with the incalculable freshness of the new day.” – Jim Harrison

 

Waiting like roosted

birds.  Eyes glazed.

To-go cups clenched.

Badly needing it.

They sit

or stand

oriented

toward

the focal point.

 

What motivates

them?

The need.

The inner explosion.

Fusion…

fission…

hydrogen…

helium….

 

Deep breath.

Hold it in.

Release.

Ahhhh, sunrise!

 

This is part of “28 Days of Unreason”

based on prompts taken from poems

by Jim Harrison.

https://jillys2016.wordpress.com/2016/05/02/28-days-of-unreason/

Insomnia’s Litany

There are many things you left unfinished today.

Lord have mercy.

There is much you have to do tomorrow.

Oh, Lordy Lord!

Seven hours of sleeplessness until the alarm goes off.

Lord help us in need.

That snake you saw in the yard tonight could get into the house.

Jesus, have mercy!

I’m the seventh cup of coffee you had today, here to haunt you.

Lord be gracious.

You should have bought a lottery ticket today.

My sweet Lord!

You should turn off the light.

Yes, yes, yes!

You’ll feel like hell in the morning if you don’t get some sleep.

Mmmm, my Lord!

Tick-tick-tick!

Mmmm, my sweet Lord!

Mister Sandman, send me a dream!

Holly, Holy!

The most important thing you left unfinished today was….

Re: Creation

dVerse – Haibun Monday #14 – “Too Many Mind…”

 

My batteries, when at ebb, charge most effectively through creativity.  A little sketching, some photography, any form of writing will bring me back to full power.  It helps that I have a loving wife, and a crazy little dog, that willingly joins in.

The other form of unwinding in which I engage involves a cork, a stem, and the slightly oily red residue that coats the edge of the glass as I swirl the contents.

For now these are the activities that time and money allow.

 

Fifty grey shades sky

erotic sway of the trees

where has your mind gone?

 

Haibun Monday #14 – “Too Many Mind…”

Solitudinal Curse

“Like many poets I’m part blackbird and part red squirrel and my brain chatters, shrieks, and whistles.” – Jim Harrison

 

I often cannot write in quiet seclusion;

the menagerie I keep in my head makes

too much racket.  In a jazz club, on a busy

street corner, in the midst of a raucous

gathering of family and good friends

my thoughts go quiet, tamed quiet

by noise external.  Then I can write.

 

The song of tree frogs

beep beep traffic jams of joy

go still when we talk

 

This is part of “28 Days of Unreason”

based on prompts taken from poems

by Jim Harrison.

https://jillys2016.wordpress.com/2016/05/02/28-days-of-unreason/

Lies

“Words are moving water, muddy, clear, or both” – Jim Harrison

 

When I spent a summer guiding

young teens into the wilderness

I was given the option of hiking

or paddling a group of novices

down a river, through a chain

of lakes for ten days in canoes.

Hikers, I knew, came back

to camp stuccoed waist high

in mud and spent the next day

searching for leeches, dealing

with mosquito bites.

 

Say clear what you mean

for leeches and mud are lies

I seek water clear

 

 

This is part of “28 Days of Unreason”

based on prompts taken from poems

by Jim Harrison.

https://jillys2016.wordpress.com/2016/05/02/28-days-of-unreason/

Shirttail at Best

“The birds are a chorus…clearly relatives of Mozart” — Jim Harrison

 

Okay, so not the crows.

Crows murder a song.

You should pardon the expression.

 

Definitely not jays, grackles, or hawks.

 

Nor seafaring birds of any kind.

 

Woodpeckers can belt out a solo now and then.

Cranes create a whoop-de-doo,

but nothing melodious bleeds through.

 

Eagles and buzzards just cannot carry a tune.

 

Finches, warblers, and Mockingbirds rock.

Robins have a voice, but a limited repertoire.

 

Barred Owls?  Maybe Bach.

 

 

This is part of “28 Days of Unreason”

based on prompts taken from poems

by Jim Harrison.

https://jillys2016.wordpress.com/2016/05/02/28-days-of-unreason/

The Tip

“We were born to be moving water not ice.” – Jim Harrison

 

For twenty-two years

I existed in the north

Believing I was living.

It was a horrible lie.

 

I strove southward,

Flowing down naturally

toward the warm sea.

 

Life and the misfortunes

of life built dams and levees,

redirecting the course

of my existence iceward.

 

Locked in a floe,

glacial in its hold,

I waited in winter’s dark.

 

Love came with the sun.

 

As the songbirds returned

the melting trickle became

a stream, a rapid, a river

washing not one but two

of us toward the land of no ice.

 

She said, “We were born for this.”

“Amen!  ‘We were born to be moving water not ice.’”

 

This is part of “28 Days of Unreason”

based on prompts taken from poems

by Jim Harrison.

https://jillys2016.wordpress.com/2016/05/02/28-days-of-unreason/

Sea-Breeze Front

Green

in gilded

afternoon sunlight’s glow

chases the ordinary from

the dancing trees due east

across our pond which flows northward

under pre-summer’s presumptive thrust from the Gulf.

Cobalt grey boiling roiling cumulonimbus butts mooning Tampa,

anvil-headed bullies come stomping up and over the ridgeline,

trashing the manmade Scylla and Charybdis commute on eye fore.

Quite lovely it is when towering white giants come through,

innocently wielding chaos within their bulk darkening the sky.

Their fury, their bellowing breath cleanses the air,

leaving all around us cleansed, scoured bright.

Chronologically set, they come before night,

as Sol is heading west

charging with golden hue

water flowing free

and dancing

trees.

 

The folks at dVerse are holding an Etheree bee.

To find out what that means, go to:

Getting in Shape for Summer–dVerse MTB, the Etheree

Submerged Reflective Rhyming

“Saw a poem float by just beneath the surface” – Jim Harrison

 

The pond behind our house

has vibrated on occasion,

something I’ve only seen

here where we live,

the two of us.

 

I’ve lived in eleven states

(physical states of the U.S.,

not emotional states),

and I have never seen

it do what it does here.

 

The first time I wrote

a sonnet.  The second

I penned a cinquain.

I’ve written villanelles,

quadrilles, and really

bad limericks under

the spell of the water

that vibrates just so.

 

Just the other day

the lighting was perfect

and sure enough….

 

 

This is part of “28 Days of Unreason”

based on prompts taken from poems

by Jim Harrison.

https://jillys2016.wordpress.com/2016/05/02/28-days-of-unreason/

Hydrolog[ic]y

“We walk at the bottom of an ocean we call sky.” – Jim Harrison

 

I don’t notice;

light as air it feels.

I feel it roll,

waves crash white

above, barely move,

but they thunder.

 

Creatures pass overhead.

“That one looks like –”

You have to adjust your vision.

 

It’s true.

We live down

among the bottom feeders.

Top of the food chain – mostly.

 

 

This is part of “28 Days of Unreason”

based on prompts taken from poems

by Jim Harrison.

https://jillys2016.wordpress.com/2016/05/02/28-days-of-unreason/