dark under the trees

Listening to Vietnam veterans recalling how they let their minds be trained to dehumanize the enemy, being the only way they themselves could survive

cat snug in a warm sweater nest

leaves wet with rain

A man writes a poem about a too early snow in Buffalo, and the leaves are still on the trees, these young men going off to war.

Walking in the dim woods thinking of another young man, 38 sounding 15, speaking of the Humane Society of the United States as if it were one of the 3 branches of government, this is how his black and white world appears to him, at first it's oddly funny but then with a pang, one wonders what our country would be like if we did have a third of the government that only cared about living things?

twit snip dip

Electrically distracted by combining Snipping Tool with Facebook apps. like Graffiti painter and Twitter --- leading to being distracted by Twitdraw


or was it DrawingTwit...?

an empty drawer

Car full of smoke, burning the bones, sulfur rising, ashes on the meadow, hawk in the sky rising and falling on the murmur of voices in the shadows, around the corner out of sight, footsteps of a horse... unused garden pots.

Sparrows, always the sparrows and when I remember, the long line of arborvitae.

king fish jump

Fish jump, kingfisher shouts and flies upriver, downriver, it's low and cardinal blooms flow red along the shore, along with white boneset and nymphs wildly mating covering the wet rocks.
Swamp sunflowers, elderberries, partridgeberries, joe-pyeweed - green ferns against dark of where the door would be.
Leaves are turning and turkeys run through the meadow and along the road.

Cupboard doors open and shut,
raccoon, skunk, porcupine
sleeping on the cold hard ground

measuring cup, measuring spoon, a nebula shaped like a butterfly.

Lettuce eat us

Washing black dirt off the lettuce wondering, well, if the lettuce takes up dirt to make foodlettuce, why can't we just eat dirt? Why don't we skip the frivolous food step and get right down to the mineraly dirt? The lettuce is a transformer carbon machine making dirt edible for us (and H2O and CO2 and sunenergy). ( photosynthesis ) And on the other hand, lettuce can't eat us until we compost into dirt and become lettucefood. Just happened to be going to get this link to this wonderful song written and sung by Levon Helm, subject coincidental. Listen to whole song here:

Some rain, some eggs on blue plates. Cold comes in from the woods, flanked by chickadees.

uzz uzz

brown tree-bean buzz, cat fuzz,
and she was...
floating over the neighborhood.

hot old age bank

unsleep. trucks and banks. age old age.
whole wheat and the death-penalty. hot-eyed coffee in a huge room empty and full of dead. koi carp and yellow lotus in the pool and iron cranes can't prance.
blowup house made of colour and children fly. flames in the yard, sweet sticky goo -- a Jupiter-rise and wake the train, wrap us in the speed of noise and pages of books.

O sweet paper!






guilty of art

kitchen mind

Faces stare out a newspaper, handwritten words scrawled on paper.
Molecules in the steel tea kettle mingling with mine
to become the company man
soup in a cup, wooden pencil,
swallow your pride and your conscience, too
all those years
wooden table, hand-thrown clay pot from Janice's fingers;
Janice comes for lunch. We can't get the pickles out of the jar...
paper envelope, pitcher of water

you can never be set free

jar of marmite, real slate chalkboard bound with red felt, string and wood
is blank.

Youngstown Kitchens cupboards in a Youngstown kitchen,
the quiet of a kitchen mind photographing water falling from a faucet.

On the other hand is the black bear on the wall going to come down out of the calender and drag the moose calf into the underbrush of the flickering youtube and are you going to come out and push your typing finger into my soft grey matter?

golden brown perfume

sounds of distant explosions, ah we're in the Valley...The Bees, Ted and Gasoline along with Billy the Dog and sweet rotting odor of apples on the road.

Flocks of sparrows, flocks of goldfinches, grapes crawl growing behind the rectory...collecting cleome* seeds, discovering goldenrod has a perfume - never woulda thunk it - we have forty light bulbs in the house.

* "Cleome is a genus of flowering plants in the family Cleomaceae. Previously it had been placed in family Capparaceae, until DNA studies found the Cleomaceae genera to be more closely related to Brassicaceae than Capparaceae. The APG II system[1] allows for Cleome and the other members of Cleomaceae to be included in Brassicaceae." Wikipedia entry