knee deep in freezing water

graduation time is near and so is baptism

2011-05-19T14:55:00.000-07:00

Actually for the school I serve at it is tomorrow. The only bad part about that is we can't leave for the Cities until Saturday. Benjamin is having his baptism on Sunday. Leona and I took Monday off so we don't have to leave Sunday night. Still will have to get on the road early and fight traffic to get out of town. Dogs will spend the weekend at the doggy motel. Hopefully that will work out. Sham is now in a cast for life. Every couple of months we will take him in and get a new one.
Benjamin is growing up so quickly as infants always seem to do. We see him one month and he is just rolling around the floor. Now he is crawling and standing. Skype is wonderful.

Here it is April

2011-04-19T18:45:00.000-07:00

and it may snow tonight and tomorrow. Luckily the potential for
heavy snow has gone down everyday and with luck we won't get much.

late April
and still the crocus dream
beneath the snow

up with the snow and wind

2011-01-11T17:03:00.000-08:00

Lets see - since the last time I wrote I have fallen on the steps carrying the dachshund who now has a leg in a cast. This was after we went to Minneapolis to visit Beth, Dave and Benjamin as well as Zachary. Since then just manning the Credit Recovery room at Horizons. And some writing and doodling.

Having some fun with poetry. Here is a poem.

googling pasty

pasty is the king
pasty is an important yooper
pasty is much more than food
pasty is more than merely food
pasty is cooked
pasty is unique to hold in your hands
pasty is coarse
pasty is pronounced with a drawn out ah
pasty is really mad
pasty is almost finished with its' translation
pasty is a sort of a portable beef stew folded into a purse
pasty is crimped individually
pasty is about the best way to describe my normal skin tone
pasty is a pastebot
pasty is a pasty is the original fast food
pasty is our emblem
pasty is much more
pasty is a huge
pasty is equaly arranged
pasty is whose is bugging us
pasty is
pasty is also an essential experience for 3
pasty is a delicious
pasty is the up
pasty is filled with succulent thai curry sauce
pasty is delicious as such
pasty is eaten today for the same reason
pasty is wasted
pasty is a high viscosity
pasty is the samosa
pasty is unvarying
pasty is? go to www
pasty is rarely there when i call him
pasty is a shape with a savoury
pasty is home
pasty is my friend and my roommate
pasty is and want to order one
pasty is groovy
pasty is that the ingredients are raw
pasty is a whole meal wrapped up in envelope
pasty is the ultimate
pasty is the original hand
pasty is hand
pasty is hot and spreading
pasty is sufficient

and yes, Pasty is sufficient.

As others say, "and so it goes"

2010-12-11T20:30:00.001-08:00

It snows.

But not as bad as it has in Minneapolis.

More later.

It is later.

heavy snow
he remembered her
blue bikini

his breath stank of whiskey
head bent into the wind
snow snaking around his feet
this was no dream of winter
he was little more than a
white shadow in hell

This and that.

2009-07-27T16:06:00.000-07:00

Leona and I had Saturday off. She was standing up in Miki's wedding. It was a beautiful wedding and the reception at Wadsworth was great. Leona danced all night and I danced my one customary dance. On a sad note, there was a fire in an apartment building in Hancock that killed four. There is talk that it was arson.

I saw my first bear of the year last year. We had heard one was visiting the Harbor. Thursday night coming down from checking Lake Manganese I saw a bear shaped black hole trotting down the edge of the road and then gone. I stopped and could hear him snapping things in the woods on his way to town for dinner. Hopefully he doesn't turn east and find the campgrounds.

On a publishing note. Had several published in the summer issue of Modern English Tanka. One was chosen for the back cover. Only three per issue. So I was kinda pleased.

Back at the Fort

2009-07-20T18:29:00.000-07:00

Back at the Fort for the summer.

no bears, yet

2009-06-07T09:36:00.001-07:00

Has it been this long? Nothing much new. Work. Writing.

Early Autumn

2008-09-16T09:41:00.000-07:00

Work at the Fort is wrapping up. I have today, Wednesday and Thursday off then work through the next Monday. And done. This week I have to get my finger prints taken so that I can sub during the school year. Some students and teachers at the alternative high school have asked when I will be back. Nice to be wanted.

Poetry Reading Tonight

2008-08-15T13:05:00.000-07:00

I will be reading tonight with two wonderful poets: Ralph Murre and Sharon Auberle at Ed Gray's Miskwabik Gallery in Calumet. We will each read from our own works and then do a shared reading from Ralph's new book Psalms. Joe Kirkish will also be signing his new book of photographs published by Miskwabik Press. Should be an interesting evening.

On another note I have picked up three albums by local bands and performers. All good and will have more later on them. But, for now I will highly recommend Erin Smith's Around This Place if you like folk music. Her songs Calumet, Misery Bay, Portage, Around This Place and others are excellent. You can buy this at CDBaby. Samples are available to listen to. I keep listening to Calumet. With a moment to edit I will tell you the other two. Greg Merkle (guitarist) who opened for Iris Dement at the Calumet Theater this month and The Squeaky Clean Cretins. Greg's guitar playing is amazing. The SCC play a mix of music styles. No covers - just their own. Good listen.

Which brings me to winter. Mid-August and already a slight turn in the air. Winter is always lurking, peeking, waiting.
Bears have been in the park lately. Drinking beer, eating steak and cheese, being a general after dark nuisance. I haven't seen one when I have been on night patrol, but they are there. Besides geese, ducks, ravens and buzzards, the only furry animals I've seen are one coyote and a couple of deer, lots of red squirrels, chipmunks, and a vole. On the drive home after dark I have seen bear three times now.

Last weekend we camped with Jason and Micki and the kids. Went up to the summit of Brockway and watched a little of the Perseids. Then on Monday night/Tuesday morning Leona and I went with Elise, Serena and Sara to Bucky's and watched the Perseids over Lake Superior. Moon was pretty bright and Serena said we should have gone up to the Swedetown Hill and we might of seen more. Yet the big lake was beautiful and relaxing. Got home around 1:30 am.

Kristyn will soon be back in The Cities from Korea where she has been teaching English. She and Beth will come over next week and Kristyn will have an interview for a ESL job at Tech.

That's about it.

Except for a couple of recent tanka.

at night
the fort so quiet
my shadow
a hole
in the moonlight

the mom
working so hard
pedaling up hill
towed behid
the child laughs

ta!

2008-08-03T20:11:00.000-07:00

Busy weeks at work. The last weekend in July the Battery D (the Civil War encampent) was at the Fort and yesterday was the Copperman Triathelon. Both very busy weekends. Busy is good.

When R came to work this morning a coyote was by the booth. He had gotten into the trash. Someone left BK trash and he figured it was a drive-thru. Only seen a couple of coyotes in the park this year. And so far, no bear. But bear have been seen on either end of town or the park in the past week.

Thimbleberries are beginning to get ripe. Should be a good crop this year. Bilberries, Huckleberries and blue berries have all been good. Service berries (sugar plums) are also getting ripe. When they begin to rot they ferment - drunken birds.

Not much writing lately, but that's okay, the words will come when there is time.

back to work at the park

2008-06-15T08:26:00.000-07:00

So, it is trying to be spring and I am back to work at the park in Copper Harbor.
Still trying to adjust to working late and sleeping in. Something my body doesn't
like to do. It still thinks I should get up at 5:30 am.

What has it been like at the park? Slow.

high gas prices
more hummingbirds
than campers

not even enough campers to make it worthwhile for the bears to visit.

On the publication front: The Rose and Thorn is in the June online issue of Underground Voices
along with Listening to Sun Ra. Another poem appears online at Origami Condom. and a few tanka were kindly published in the spring issue of Modern English Tanka.

This summer I will be kick-starting a couple of new magazines. Her Red Dress which will either be printed through Lulu or Amazon's Create Space sites. And a little cut-and -paste 3 page newsletterish zine titled Whiskey Breath - poems from the barroom floor. But, first I have to get chapbooks by Ken Pobo and Mark Hartenbach printed.

not much to say.

2007-10-08T05:08:00.000-07:00

Not much writing lately. Between work and driving downstate to bring up more stuff from storage I haven't had much time. However the state park job is over and now i am looking for a new job. Slowly.

Night Patrol

2007-07-30T19:11:00.000-07:00

night patrol (part of my summer job)

midnight piss
old man and bear
meet
behind the
trailer

*

lonely coyote
sits in the parade ground
yips once
trots off

*

in the fog
the harbor bell
tells me
"get a life"
i flip it off
and drive on

*

picking up trash
i dump whiskey
on my pants
breathe in the fumes
and laugh

*

my headlights pick out
a late goose crossing
the highway

i hate geese -
walking bags of shit
with attitude

i step slowly on
the brake but think
about the gas pedal

*

sillouette
on the tent wall

oh, desire

2007-06-19T07:13:00.000-07:00

Working the booth at a state park - slow time of the year.

june 15

and in the end?
dog tracks in the
backyard snow

*

your body is wilderness
always new
always a surprise

*

as he
pours the tea -
silence

*

talking softly
the old women
nod and smile
coffee cools
cigarettes grow cold

*

meeting Buddha
I tried to kill him -
uphill for miles

*

fingering the beads
again
and again

*

she had always
thought deer were such
peaceful animals
until the day one stomped
her old cat to death

*

beside the road
too tall for coyote
a wolf
watches traffic
trots off to the woods

june 16

on the door frame
a cecropia fans -
the childrens' eyes

*

this lichen
this rock
older than i am

*

harbor bell
hidden
in the cold fog

*

the deaf camper
smiles and waves -
thumbs up

*

duty?
remember Issa's
"and yet"

june 17

light wind off the lake
smokey moon my only friend
this autumn night
old teetotaler won't drink
so i finish the bottle for him

*

hard to tell
which is worse
flies or geese

*

his son's frisbee
knocks his beer over
he tosses it back

*

knee deep in the lake
he raises his leg
brushes off a leech

june 19 - Vertin Studio

morning beer
ice cold

old dachshund
looks hopeful

from the porch
we watch grackles

he laps
i sip

grackles chatter
and shit

*

talking to Andi
at the bar

later John tells me
"she's a whore"

I smile

"better a whore
that listens
than a friend
who doesn't"

Mark Hartenbach has done a fine edit and music video of my blues poem

2007-05-24T04:57:00.000-07:00

http://youtube.com/watch?v=IlbdjKieY0g

Thank you Marko!

Big Rapids is hideous.

2007-05-21T04:23:00.000-07:00

But at least Leona won't have to be here much longer. Kristyn and I came down Saturday and saw Leona briefly at Higgins Lake where she is at a enviromental conference. She will be back tonight. I am going up to get a small trailer at Reed City and K and I will load it this afternoon. Should get a lot of stuff out of here. Cathie (Leona's sister) told her she can stay with her for the rest of the school year and they can get the apartment here cleaned up. We will be paying for 3 months rent for an empty apartment unless we or Penny can find someone to rent it before. Worth to get out of here and up to Calumet. I start work at Ft. Wilkins SP on June 11th. Late shift from 2:30 to 10:30. Pays a little more and will allow me time to get work done at the Vertin studio too.

Tanka , Like the Blues and Haiku blues

2007-05-18T16:34:00.001-07:00

The older Japanese Tanka often were about loss and longing - like the blues

So here is a bluesy tanka

Lucille?
She was a teacher
teacher of the blues
she taught them to me
she'll teach them to you

Haiku blues

issa certainly wrote bluesy haiku so here are a few attempts on my part

poor old fly
just like me
crushed

preacher man
wasting my time
fly buzzing

vanity
at my age to watch
young women

Just writing the blues (not life)

2007-05-18T16:02:00.001-07:00

A Sad Song About the End of Love

refrain

i ain't nothin' but an old man
please take me by my hand
lead me outta this sad land
lead me outta this sad sad land

good times won't come again
no the good times are gone
i been traveling this lonely road
too long, yeah, far too long

r

thought love would be eternal
last forever, so they say
seems forever is a short time
seems i lost the way

r

i've tried dancing with the bible
and dancing with the wind
but when she left for another
i started dancing with sin

r

thought whiskey was my savior
but whiskey don't pay for meals
that just an airy illusion
it was either work or steal

r

i saw her once in Detroit
my flesh began to crawl
i lit out for Chicago
ran into that old blues wall

r

got down, so far down
couldn't see for tears in my eyes
whatever friends i had
looked at me with despise

r

i'm so tired of traveling
on liquor and the bus
so tired of traveling
feeling like a wuss

r

time to be a leaving
can you show me the way
preachers tried and bottles tried
i got nothing left to say

r

Redemption Song

2007-04-20T04:39:00.001-07:00

Listening to Ziggy Marley and the Chieftains - Redemption Song

Why not.

Joy in it All

ravens
flop about the backyard pine
chatter endlessly
gossip
love
anger

joy

*

sags and wrinkles
this is what we grow into

the car and i both go in for a check up today.

been awhile

2007-04-12T04:03:00.000-07:00

Didn't realise it had been this long since I posted. Since the last post Zach and I drove down to the AWP conference in Atlanta. Kristyn was there. It was overwhelming. Over 5000 attended. We stayed at the Holiday Inn in a tiny room with a pricey cost. Ate at Ted Montana's Grill. Good food, reasonable price and close to our hotel. Met a lot of folks that I have known of for years and some others that I have met before. It was nice to run into Michael Dennis Brown and his wife. Kristyn and I had taken a workshop with him at Split Rock. Talked briefly to Kristyn's professors. Candice Black and Richard Robbins. Good people. Good writers. I have books by both of them. Talked very quickly to Amy King after the excellent panel discussion on internet magazines. Stepped out for a moment to listen to Ander Monson read from his book of essays - Neck Deep - that won the Greywolf Press prize for non-fiction. Wandering the bookstore was overwhelming and Zach and I came home with a ton of magazines and books. Talked to quite a few folks there. One of the highlights of the trip was meeting with Tammy Trendle. I know Tammy through the internet poetry sites. She is a wonderful poet. Kristyn, Zach and I went out for lunch on Saturday before we left. Fat Matt's, a blues and barbeque place. Good food. Good conversation. Everyone felt at ease with Tammy. She was kind enough to give me a copy of Rose of Sharon Press's chapbook of her and Pris Campbell's poems. A fine book it is.

After Atlanta Zach and I returned briefly to Big Rapids and then I took him up to Houghton for his surgery. Actually two as he had a mole removed the next week. Leona joined us for Easter and that was wonderful. Except. Except winter decided to return. From Tuesday through Saturday we had nearly 4 feet of snow. Phoenix, 15 miles to the north, recorded 52 inches. Of course the roads were kept pretty clear and one could drive if one had too. We went into the Vertin Studio several days. Unfortunately I wasn't able to drive down for the open mic poetry reading on Friday at the Daily Grind in Hancock. Michael Moore from Michigan Tech had arranged this and I had spoken to him the week before. At a fish dinner the week before at FU (Finlandia University) I shared a table with some folks I didn't know. Or I didn't know I knew. When I introduced myself the husband said. "Tom Blessing, the part-time poet?" Turned out it was Stephen Smith and his wife. We had both been published several years ago in Maxis, a magazine from Marygrove college, and I had called him once at Hancock High School where he worked. Nice conversation. He was able to go and read at the open mic. Maybe next time.

For now I am in Big Rapids until the weekend. Then I will drive back up to Calumet. Dentist appointment for a root canal in Marquette on Tuesday and doctor appointment on Thursday. Afterward I will return to BR for several days before I go back up and help Zach move out of his apartment.

Leona doesn't have school today. Snow and ice have made the roads bad and they don't do a good job of cleaning them down here. So will work on taxes and mailing out copies of Going to Georgia.

rough draft of part 1 of trip to Minneapolis/St. Paul via train

2007-02-20T19:47:00.000-08:00

So we took amtrak to visit our daughters in the Cities. Drove down to Grand Rapids for the 7:30 am train to Chicago -the Pere Marquette

through the windows:
'the easy calf company'
painted on an old barn

easy calf?
cow hoes?

through dirty clouds
and grimy train windows
sunlight on my sketchbook

playing cribbage
on the train
the rock and roll
of 15-2

in the seat behind us
a little girl sings the songs
our daughters sang

I call J to see if she can meet us in Chicago. We last saw her when
she was 13. Her parents had split and when her mother remarried we didn't hear from the family anymore. Since then she has broke her back, came out of the closet, been rejected/accepted/etc by family and friends, etc,etc but she found my daughters here on facebook and we've all talked via email, facebook, livejournal she will try to meet us on the way back on monday.

we arrive in chicago an hour and half late - frozen switch in indiana

walking on the train
i do a little dance

my armrest says
'push button to lower legrest'
what the hell is a legrest?

oh!

i wrote a poem about ravens
i always write poems about ravens
but looking at this one now
in my sketchbook
i read

late night
hidden in the pine
the ravioli's eye

sorry to any ravens out there along the highways

another cribbage poem

on the train
we play cribbage
same as home
i lose

leaving chicago
we wait in the lounge
a young woman and the security cop
joke about her being a vegan
a runner
healthy
he his chubby
like me
i smile along
she is going to run
a fifty mile marathon
in march
in the kettle moraine
country of wisconsin
i'd settle for beer and brats

while we wait
i watch the geese and gulls
on the chicago river
only a little ice
why fly south?

we eat cheese sandwichs
drink bottle water

but i sign up for dinner
in the dining car
at 7:30

we discover the observation car

i write

he loved her with his coyote heart
she returned it with the slow
love of the ant
(ant? doe? scrape the whole thing?)

it looked like a community college
except for the fence
and watch towers

wisconsin

black dots
huddling on the frozen lake
the persistance
of ice fishermen

on the train today
i painted landscapes
my canvas was immense
my painting was fine
but became better
when i added
the rattle, rock and roll
of the train
and the smell of the hot dog
my wife was eating

want to see it?
open my head
it is there

central wisconsin
old farm land
young trees
rows of brown stalks
a distant silo
no house
no barn
marshland
watching the countryside
a little girl colors
leona knits
dregs of tea cool

night on the train
only my reflection
in the window

good dinner on the train
blackened catfish
we eat with two strangers
one is an architect
he will be giving a presentation
in an ice shanty on medicine lake
not just a shanty
but an artshanty
one of many on the lake

we arrive in minneapolis early
our daughters and son-in-law
are still on the way
hugs and kisses
and we pile into the cars
and off to beth and dave's
apartment
life is good1

2007-01-22T15:07:00.000-08:00

Subject: No More Silence

from the pool
her pink bikini
ah,
another life

*
on the bare ground of her love
he sleeps until the slap! of a
lit cigarette wakes the burning world

*

long gray hair
this is who i am

NO~!

*

she was a trap of beauty

he was in season

*

from the ceiling
dancing feet
mine tap along

*

"whiskey breath"
i think i'll call it

searching the cupboards

*

on the plate
one pepper, a few crumbs

a tear

*

strong bitter tea
an offering
a thank you

*

long drought
a beach of dead fish

and you

*

bent old man pushing his basket
american flag waving with pride

the sidewalk wet with melting snow

his treasure?
a package of
oreos

*

nearly empty cafe
just this old writer
and a young man
wiping down the tables

*

AVANT!
what the hell does that mean?

yesterday i watched an old man kick a walnut down the sidewalk

2007-01-17T16:56:00.000-08:00

Yesterday

i watched an old man
kick a walnut down
the snowpacked
sidewalk

he kept it centered
until another man
approached and gave
him an odd look

i smiled
and stepped outside
of myself

after he passed me
i watched the old man
kick the walnut
one more time

*

from all the cars
and all the people
steam rises

*

tired tonight and waiting for leona to get back from her meeting in grand rapids.

listening to tom waits tonight

2006-12-05T17:20:00.000-08:00

Waits is growling 'bout the one that got away

and i remember
all those poems
i thought of
while driving
from detroit to
the keweenaw
those poems
that were lost
in my memory
along dark
highways
beneath a
full moon
reflecting off
frozen waves
along the shores
of Lake Superior
while tea
cooled in
the cup holder
and Tom growled
from the speakers
and morning
seemed no
more than
a despicable
moment
where everything
seems distant
and false

Pogues, Thanksgiving, Road Tired, etc.

2006-11-29T10:31:00.000-08:00

I think the Pogues' "Fairytale in New York" and Dar William's "The Christians and the Pagans" are two of my favorite Christmas songs and I doubt if I will hear either of them on the radio around here. (Big Rapids)

http://youtube.com/watch?v=ltiY-BqvOIU

for the Pogues' song.

Today is one of those dreary days. The temperature is far to warm. (60's) but it will drop and the rain will change to sleet and snow. Downer.

opening day

2006-11-15T19:03:00.000-08:00

A tradition in Michigan - the opening day of deer season
always brings to mind 'da yoopers' song 'the second day of deer camp'
many schools in the northern part of the state have today off so the kids and teachers
can go hunting - hope they do well, far too many deer out along and on the highways
driving at night is dangerous.

I worked some at the Vertin studio today - still trying to get things organized after moving
down to the second floor - they have shut off the heat on the upper floors because of
the high cost of heating the building during the winter - hopefully the area I am in will
not get wet when the spring melt starts coming through the roof and floors.

Tomorrow I get my new crown and after Zach's German class on Friday we head downstate.
Dave and Beth are flying into Detroit from Minneapolis on Saturday and we will visit with them
before they drive to Atlanta for Thanksgiving. Kristyn works and has classes thru wednesday and won't be able to get back for the holiday.

Gloomy, gray days. Not good for seasonal depression sufferers. But we are in the beginnings of the long white. Gray and rainydays will soon be gray and snowy days. Still the snow is better than the wet.

whitefish and poetry

2006-11-14T19:52:00.000-08:00

a few poems from tonight and yesterday

what the rocks
have taught me:
it's okay to sit
just
sit

*

cold moon
illuminates the frosty lawn
and my breath

*

"it's hard to open"
i hear a voice from
the next booth
and think "yes
the mind is"

*

ON MY DECK

old wooden buddha
raises his arms
in praise and honor
to the odor
of morning

*

in my memory
or memory of a dream
you wore a t-shirt
a thin white t-shirt
we spoke for a moment
quietly
as we stepped closer
your lips
or the dream of your lips
touched mine
our bodies lightly touched
and i woke
or i fell into
this dream
without you

and the novel turned into revising the past year's poems and that is good

new work coming out in the december issue of lee thorn's fuck and also in anthology of erotica from canada

that's erotic and not dirty or porn

smiles

(hopefully this is error free)

National Novel Writing Month

2006-10-25T20:00:00.000-07:00

Well, what the hey. I will give it a try.

Soon we will be panking down the snow. Some in the yard now.

The downstate house is sold. I just drove a Uhaul truck the 580 miles from Detroit to bring one load of several up here. Now I need a place to put it all.

I will be moving my writing studio down from the 3rd floor of the Vertin Building to the 2nd. The upper floors will be closed off for the winter to save on heating costs.

I should have enough money now to publish the two chapbooks of poetry that I have owed a couple of authors for awhile now.

a short poem.

George

if you peeled away
the layers of his heart
you would find
only a blind stone
at the center

peace, all

Big Rapids, sigh

2006-09-11T11:44:00.000-07:00

Currently in Big Rapids - sigh - it ain't the UP.

Drab, overcast, rainy day and I am sitting in the Library at Ferris State. It is the only
place I can get internet for now.

On the good news front - Didi has been kind enough to accept another poem for Ocho and
I will have several in an anthology of erotic poems that will be published this fall in Canada.

I miss the big lake. The last several nights when I left work at the park the moon was full.

early autumn moon reflected again and again in the waves

It is 55 today and all the students are dressed in hoodies and coats - where, semi-yooper, I
where only a short sleeved shirt. (They - all look alike?)

listening to jimmi hendrix singing dylan's like a rolling stone while reading haiku

2006-06-07T05:31:00.000-07:00

Why not.

heavy fog
in the window
the cat listens

*

morning light
your shadow
walks through
the empty stutio

monday morning at the vertin

2006-06-05T04:37:00.000-07:00

Just a quick catch-up and maybe a few poems. Friday night was Jack Oyler's opening at the gallery. I like Jack's work and wish I could post some photos here. Maybe later I can have my son or daughter show me how. He doesn't seem to have any work on the web.

Sunday we drove the 100+ miles to Marquette. Zach is looking for an apartment for the fall. I let Zach and Kristyn off at Presque Isle and went shopping. They walked around the park while I was gone. Huge islands of yellow pollen floating in Superior. Pine pollen I suppose. All in all a good trip.

Leona will be back up this Friday. The Eastpointe house is up for sale. Hopefully that will go quickly. Needs work, but we are too far away to do that.

waiting for the church bells the ant paces

this summer there will be three of us using the studio here at the vertin. so, i have been organizing the space. Kristyn began her apprenticeship with Kristy Walden yesterday. She will be learning all of the artist clay techniques so she will be certified to teach that. She is also helping edit articles on the process and doing research. Should give her some good contacts for future work. She will also be helping me get the poetry magazine(s) up and going again.

dust of ravens weighs heavy on my dreams

(Many of Jack's works have crows(ravens) in them. I bought one from the show. Over half of the work had sold before the opening. Good for Jack)

positive train!
when I'm gone
the universe
won't be

positive train is a term Joe H is always telling the kids to get on. (I teach at an alternative ed high school this year)

in your eyes
i have seen the resurrection
of butterflies

Enough for now. It is almost 8 am and time to go home and take the dogs out. Last week of school so I have to go in early and get paper work done. Enjoy the day.

one more

2006-05-31T14:01:00.000-07:00

Something for the Strippers

waiting for the taxi to
take them from the peeling motel
to the club out on 41

we all have these days
people we work with haloed
with stale breath
lipstick stained glasses
with ashes absorbing
the last of the cheap beer
fake teases and feet that
are cramped and sweaty

we all have these days
delusions of sunshine
behind the rain
vacant lots that bloom
with broken glass

we all have these days
life in the old motel
stains on the carpet
the toilet handle loose
the tissue dispenser empty
the grubbing hands of
young men with wives
and kiddies living their
own obscene lives
the empty laps
that rise and fall
the fiver down the g-string

we all have these days
todays, tomorrows,
stale smoke
clean sky
it just goes on

been awhile

2006-05-31T13:33:00.000-07:00

School is almost done.

Friday is the gallery opening for Jack Oyler's show at the Vertin. About half of his works have already sold.

My daughter Kristyn is doing an internship with Kristy Walden here at the Gallery. She will be helping edit artist's writings for the company Kristy works with. Also working on creating dvd's and other stuff.

A couple of recent poems.

I Love You

these words i speak
release me from this world
as the rain releases
the worm from the comfort
of its earthy home

*

icicles hang
from the mountains
of your words

*

i touch your river
words melt
and
the bridal wreath
blooms again

*

she crushes her last cigarette
into the heel of her boot
unties the boat from
the old post
the dock's wooden slates
creak with the light waves

at the edge of the reeds
a pair of geese debate
demanding her to feed them
but turn away
at her glare

the sun is setting
the aspens' long shadows
reach like fingers
across the choppy water

it is time to fish
the oars squeal
in their unoiled locks
as she dips them
with slow strokes
into the lake

in the aft
only silence
and
his shadow

so, my few readers - feedback is appreciated

spring has finally come to the Copper Country - i have the black fly bites to prove it.

peace

Spring is in the air and dog crap is thawing

2006-03-30T16:00:00.000-08:00

So, just back from a run to the Big D.... Drove down to Big Rapids and spent the night with Leona, then to Detroit. Loaded up boxes and packed the car. Breakfast with Elise on Wednesday morning. That was fun. We haven't seen each other since Beth's wedding. Midmorning I headed back north into the last vestiges of winter. As of now the official snow fall for Houghton County is at 295 inchs.

Here are a couple of poems from the Vertin Studio.

VICTORY

blood of the humiliated
dries on the bullet pocked wall

scent of gunpowder and spices
linger in the shattered room

in the hazy free sky
the last dreams vanish

6 O'CLOCK NEWS

the universe is drunk
and I stagger with it

ALONE AGAIN

in my dream
you cry out
"Plunder Me!"
and I would
oh, I would

*
even the sight
of these humpt hills
make me horny

*

I do not like
the rising sun

in its glare
the dream of you
fades

*

in the cafe
the waitress's hands
are your hands
and I almost
grab them

*

in this world
I want my begging bowl
to be filled
with you

Enough. It was good to see Leona again. Tomorrow Zach and I will meet her in Escanaba and she will take him over to The Cities to visit Beth and Dave and Kristyn. I will come back to Calumet to clean the house. She and Zach will come back here on Monday. So we will be together for the week. YES!

Snow

2006-03-13T12:57:00.000-08:00

After a weekend in the 50's winter has returned. Snow and blowing snow. Perhaps a foot or more by tomorrow.

summer flowers
so far away in this
blowing snow

oh, to be young
and flirt
raven in love
bobs his head
rustles his feathers
she watchs
waggles her wings
and he mounts

blowing snow
i clean the driveway
so i can clean it
again

this longing for spring
blown away in the snowy wind

no traveling today
the roads buried in snow
i'll stay home
drink hot tea
dream of you

this bitter wind
brings heavy snow
and thoughts
of warmer days
holding you

yesterday the raven
cried out for love from his
lonely branch
today i wait for your call
from the silent phone

These are just free writes done here.
The snow is so bad it isn't worth the mile drive up to the Vertin Studio. I will have to go out and shovel soon or else the dachshund will have to blow is way to go to the bathroom.
Tonight I'll send some work off to Erosha.
The raven stories are from yesterday. It was springish, in the 50's, and Zach and I had gone to Marquette to pick up Kristyn from the bus station. We had time so we went out to Presque Isle and heard this eerie echoing call. No idea until we saw the Raven in the pine that hung out over the cliffs above Superior.
We figured it was a mating call and later saw a pair of ravens on the bath. He bobbed his head and ruffled his feathers in front of her. Suddenly she bowed and fluttered her wings and he mounted her. Raven love! In public. Shameless exhibitionists. Ha!

winter storm
i remind myself that
all things will pass
but, outside the snow falls
and drifts against the house

visiting the whore
he tries to buy back the love
he lost when she left

Enough for now. Peace!

Been awhile.

2006-03-10T15:47:00.000-08:00

Lest you think I am suffering from a WB here are some more
poems. I think in February I probably wrote over a hundred.
But, now I have to edit, re-write, and toss them. I have two poems that have just gone up on Tamphyr Mountain Poetry. www.tmpoetry.com If you would like to check them out. Ken Gurney has done a good job with keeping TMP as an ongoing publication.

Thinking of spring, here is a tanka.

the lure arcs out
across the still water
a dragonfly
hovers a moment
above the ripples

hiking
i walk into my own
silence

From Banks and Open Fields

snow blows across the highway
nearly whiting out the future

the snowbanks are high, tall
barriers that can't hold winter back

still, the sky is blue, split by
the white trail of a jet

We have not had a major storm this winter, yet, over 250 inchs of snow has fallen. So, I write a lot of winter poems. Many of February's poems were written at my studio in the Vertin Building. www.vertingallery.com I am not making any money, but I am writing.

trout and potatoes
sizzle in the cast iron pan
overhead,
a thousand stars

Probably enough for tonight. I will try to post more often.

one week

2006-01-26T17:37:00.000-08:00

one week

monday:

his eyes always followed women
it wasn't lust, or body envy
but, rather the love of movement
and of the stillness within

tuesday:

he remembered when he met her
it was in hollywood, at a deli
she was ordering pastrami on rye
he ordered corn beef on a kaiser
she was drinking coffee, while
he had ice tea with lemon, sour lemon

wednesday:

his story began with a statement
"I lie" it was an autobiography

thursday:

at first he only dreamed of her on weekends
they were dada dreams starring parts of her
after she left him she appeared almost nightly
she was always naked and wreathed in snow

friday:

this was the day he ate fish
since a child, he had eaten fish on friday
he saw no reason to change
but now that the cod were gone, he wondered

saturday:

the traffic on main was leaden
pedestrians wove slowly through the cars
people chatted window to window
waiting for the light to change
he stood and drank his coffee
pigeons sat on his shoulders, pecked his eyes

sunday:

this was the day he worshiped god
his one eye aimed at heaven
one hand holding a dream
he waited for the moment
when god would arrive

recent writing from the vertin building

2006-01-23T17:40:00.000-08:00

January 15, 06

Cribbage (tanka)

thunder rolls
rain patters down
on our tent
in dim light
you count 15-2

(an isle royale poem)

heavy fog suddenly lifts
ahead, isle royale
gulls fly out to greet us
the lake is a choppy green
we stand at the rail
wrapped in a blanket
shore pines, distant ridges
lit by the dim sun

Jan. 19 06 what i salvaged from the day's writings

an architecture of lust

like a giant panda on automatic

"YOU!"
she screams
"Dance in context!"

you must dance
with the woman
with the revolver
she haunts the
escalator of fate

objects of ancient offal

wild horses of smoke
curled from the house

pissing in the alley
soaked by rain
i think about you
oh! god!

hemmoroids
i wish i could write
standing up

when she came out of the shower
she said
"when you love
the bones show thru"

Jan 23 06

as daylight breaks
the cold winds blow
dark clouds to the ends
of my heartache

first tears, then rain
from the cold stone
of your angry heart
soak my shirt sleeves

*

when i first
saw her
she was the most
gorgeous woman
i had ever seen

please,
don't confuse
beauty
with lust
i know
untouchable
when i see it

now,
thirty years
later
we are both
nearing sixty
overweight
gray
and tired

but,
still
her eyes
oh!
her eyes

an erotic poem

with a gentle touch
the oyster blooms

some older poems

2005-12-13T17:07:00.000-08:00

crime watch
------------

1.

a woman told police that
a bearded white male continues
to increase in size while
attempting to speak to her purse

police are investigating

2.

a clothes hamper complained
to campus police that it had
been knocked into a tub of
cheap beer when a woman
placed her jacket over her
ex-boyfriend and he stumbled
into the hamper causing it to
fall. the woman was later
removed from the men's
restroom.

the case remains open.

3.

in an unrelated miracle, 12 poets
were caught in tangents of random
violence which they blamed on
simple acne.

Late December an Old Man Walks to the Bar

2005-12-12T16:02:00.000-08:00

Late December an Old Man Walks to the Bar

it is hard to believe in spring in December with snow falling

all day and collecting against building, trees, and old fences

debts of autumn are hidden: debris of unraked leaves, paper, even

the dog’s house are buried beneath the bitter beauty of snow

it is a time to be lonely, walking to the bar, bundled in layers

of flannel and down with beard, mustache, eyebrows frozen

behind, footprints disappear, ahead, no hint of the future

disturbed by these thoughts a raven shakes snow down

at home the quilt lies folded neatly at the foot of the bed

the flowers have withered and coffee cools in the cup

Friday, snowing

2005-12-02T17:59:00.000-08:00

Payday! the weekend! snow!

Tomorrow we are having a breakfast for the Sever family. Keith is a student at Horizon and they had an attic fire a few weeks ago. Today a group of the students worked all day at the house. The JROTC is putting on the breakfast. I can only be there for a couple of hours.
Saturday is also Celebrating the Arts in Calumet and I will have to spend much of the day up in the studio at the Vertin building. I've got the laptop there so I will probably do some writing and maybe some backgrounds for calligraphic paintings.

some poems:

winter morning
old men, hot coffee
talk of snow, hunting

drumming
in the circle
there is no I

i was in that other world
until i saw you
and was brought
into yours

so cold
the sky is drained
of birds

the moon rises
out of the canadian hills
stretchs its white arms
across the bay
to me
here in america

what are borders
to the moon

(Bay Mills, Michigan)

the gulls circle and swoop
white hesitations in the
gray sky

in the waiting room
approaching life
approaching death

Sham is curled up in the chair. Lucy is laying behind the coach. CBC's Just for Laughs is on TV.
I am getting tired. Have to get up early for the breakfast. Take care.

trying this again

2005-11-29T13:43:00.000-08:00

So, I couldn't get back into my old blog- none of my passwords worked - bah

so here is a new one with almost the same name

more later when there is time