Exegesis

Earths-growing-energy-needs

euro-fusion.org

 

It’s never about birds in poetry;
it is about our inadequate,
marrow-filled bones that
weigh us down
reminding us of the immediacy
of the dust.

 It’s never about stars in poetry;
it is about our stars spouting
neon pulses and xenon gas,
LED, HID, blue light,
street light, security light flooding
our city coffin.

It’s never about trees in poetry…
It’s never about silences in poetry…

It’s never about… reality.

 

Okay, blame Nosaint Augustine!  After he wrote one of the many great completions of Jilly’s Challenge poem, he said he was waiting for me to do one.  Careful what you ask for, people!

Haibun: Night Sky Traffic

road-stars-676x450

source

This is day 26 of Days of Unreason:

“On some clear nights in the country the stars can exhaust us.” – Jim Harrison

 

On clear nights in the winter we go out on an upper deck on the back of our house and gaze at the night sky.  It’s a spectacle, albeit a dim one compared to what we might have if modern mankind weren’t so damned afraid of the dark.  We go out with beverages and, on cooler nights, blankets.  We kick back in resin Adirondack chairs and soak it in.  As the night sky slowly, ever so slowly, drifts by, the stars appear static.  It belies the fact that what we are watching is freeway traffic at ultra-light speed.  When we go in at the end of the night, we turn on as few lights as possible… sometimes none at all, and we head to a sound, sound sleep.  I’ve never been certain if we are lulled by the peacefulness of the night sky, or exhausted by the marauding stars.

winter starlight watch
tiny lights road warriors
exhaust us tonight

 

A little over a year ago, I joined Jillys2016 in a challenge called “28 Days of Unreason.”  She culled quotes from the poems of Jim Harrison in a book called Songs of Unreason.  We used the quotes as prompts; diving boards suspended over the abyss of poetry.  Jill is revisiting unreason, and I am skipping gleefully along.  Come and join the fun!

 

We Wait Intently Searching for Life

Walden_Pond

Walden Pond – Image Public Domain

The woods send
signals out into space.

Garlands of pollen casting
constellations swirling
across the boundless void
of our slumbering, silent
pond.

A season of rebirth
and discovery has come
upon us.

Allergy.

My second effort for NaPoWriMo (I think I went to that Bible Camp as a kid) 2017.  I didn’t follow any of the proffered prompts.  I know!  Imagine a poet that doesn’t color inside the lines!  I don’t do well following prompts.  I could claim that I’m gifted, but my test scores have always said otherwise.  Anyway, if this gets me kicked out of NaPoWriMo it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been asked to leave and take matches and gasoline with me.

Re: Velation

“On some clear nights in the country the stars can exhaust us.” – Jim Harrison

 

“The Lord said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.’  Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind.  After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake.  After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.  And after the fire came a gentle whisper.  When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave (1 Kings 19:11-13 NIV).”

 

God did not

whisper as he passed

by on that frozen lake.

 

He hammered.

 

The wonder is the ice

did not shatter, the earth

did not shake.

 

The wonder is I did not die.

 

All these years later

I struggle to decipher.

 

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/

Riding On the Dragon’s Back

The night sky

a daunting task

not so much the sky

as the efforts

of poets over hundreds

of years to capture

its essence

in sonnet armed

with metaphor disarmed

with alliteration.  Still

moved by the show drawn

deep within the silent

well, I rise in spirit

as also I bow

in supplication

to the night

to the night

as she bids

me lay down

all my cares

all my concerns

in her gaze

all my labors a-bed.

 

My to-do lists cease

to carry weight or urgency.

 

All this has been said

before.  Perhaps better.

Certainly with urgent

specificity.  Nevertheless

I hear her say

“Write.”

 

What if in all that lies

before us, about us is

vacant

save for Earth?

 

Would the solitude with which we watch

the Spine make

the universe the less

or we the lonely audience

more?

dVerse Poets’ Pub: OpenLinkNight #173

Grace, our hostess this evening says: “Hi everyone!  Welcome to OpenLinkNight !   This is your opportunity to link 1 poem of your choice as this is no prompt-day.”