Archive

Archive for December, 2010

The Hot Winter Sun

December 30, 2010 Leave a comment

Feeling the sun hot on my shoulders as I stand a ways away from snow banks that tower over the pickup trucks in the icy parking lot, I remember the sensation and know that I always remembered it; there were always certain things common to the physical existence that I encountered and re-encounter, that I enjoyed before and will enjoy again. Almost makes me want to come back again, thinking I’ll be nostalgic and want another try. Yet with sadness that indicates a falsehood I don’t understand, I feel it has worn thin, this smoke-and-mirrors, pay-no-attention-to-that-deity-behind-the-curtain illusion. I will work to understand the distortion that makes me think that any moment is not completely new, completely fresh and completely mine.

Categories: existence Tags: , ,

Mortality, Energy, Reality

December 27, 2010 Leave a comment

 

My snowshoe breaks through the six-inch crust

Sinking a foot into fluffy whiteness

Snow I lift with the snowshoe as I must

Unless

Forward momentum cease and I just

Stand blinking sightless

Drained of energy

 

Gravity tugging at my weariness

I continue on to where I want to go

Shedding baseless fears, I guess

In this trek across the stubborn snow

Where I will come again unless

I am prevented by what I don’t know

In this reality

 
The icy wind stings my face and brings tears

The mysterious misty grey amid the trees

A native holiness, a threat of careful fears

For the extremity of extremities

For the measure of my years

And sundry fantasies

Of mortality

Categories: Poetry Tags:

Few Entries So Far

December 19, 2010 Leave a comment

So far two poets have each entered five poems, so ten poems are in the running.  This is the second annual Eye On Life Poetry Contest.  Last year poets followed much the same pattern – a few at the beginning, more later on, most of them in the final two weeks before the January 31st deadline.

The nice thing about a new contest like this one is that the odds of winning first prize are so much better than on more well established contests.  And it’s nice for us, too, since it is much easier to judge a hundred poems than it is to judge a thousand.

So today was a nice, relaxed day – about thirty degrees Fahrenheit here in Massachusetts.  My wife and I went to see my daughter sing Christmas Carols in the local business district with the high school Honors Choir.  They are fun to watch since they are so obviously having fun making music.

Categories: Poetry, Uncategorized Tags: ,

Now Accepting Online Contest Entries

December 14, 2010 Leave a comment

Enter the second annual Eye On Life Poetry Contest.  You can now submit via email (no attachments please) and pay the minuscule one dollar per poem entry fee via PayPal if you are really that lazy.

 

 

Categories: Poetry

A Little Snow

December 14, 2010 2 comments

A few ice crystals drifting in on the breeze this December dawn touch on change, the advent of winter and some other thing.   Christmas for those who celebrate.  A bit of Hanukkah come and gone.  The Solstice is going to be here after there are humans.

Lost quite a few humans recently around me, my family, families close to mine, close friends, tenuous acquaintances – a lot of cancer this quarter, it seems.

Sweet pain of life, terrifying joy, illusory happiness, pathetic sadness, weakness, strength, delusion, make me a cardboard box house and we’ll cook gourmet meals over a trash can fire, you and I.  Not interested?  What good are you?  Where is your sense of adventure?

Cloud canopy refracts the scant sun across the sky in a milky dimness, a sleepy soft light that dulls the sharp edges of the traffic in which I ride my bicycle, a few tiny snowflakes stinging my chin.  My shoulders don’t quite fit between two truck mirrors.  I brush the one on the parked truck on my way by.

The machine is malfunctioning, dysfunctioing or perhaps just functioning, but not for me, it feels like.  The engine gets a little off balance and the whole thing starts to feel like its shaking apart.  Is there blame?  That would make some kind of sense?

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

I ran several red lights, got a green one followed by two more red ones, which I also ran.

I wear two lights on my helmet.  Two more are mounted on my bike.  White blinky lights in front, red blinky lights in back:  one red blinky light on my messenger bag.  I have been compared to a Christmas tree – favorably.

This new person may provide an escape route or a means to less damaging servitude.   I will answer his questions with innocence and receptiveness and be open to his suggestions for change.  I was thinking of asking to work from home when the machine blew up.  I think the universe is telling me I need to continue to ride in traffic in the cold dark.

Running late I make Ruggles Station hard by Northeastern University.  There are only a few school kids around this morning waiting for the bus, walking around in hoodies and enormous shoes.  Half the lights in the station are unlit and the train platform is mostly dark.  I guess they are saving energy.  People get stabbed at this station, so I maintain unafraid readiness for engagement, open and receptive to all things, fellow humans, the press of them, their weapons.

There is poetry to do.  I need to do it.

Book Review: The Wisdom of the Chakras

December 12, 2010 Leave a comment

“The Wisdom of the Chakras, tools for navigating the complexities of life” by Ellen Tadd, Lantern Books, 2010

The short review:  a good working handbook on the use, development and troubleshooting of your spiritual energy centers.

Click here for full review.

Categories: Criticism Tags: ,

Poem for my Sister

December 11, 2010 2 comments

I remember you in a cone-shaped hat

You made from a felt hat and a broom handle

You wore it to pick cherries

From trees now gone

 

I remember you in some kind of house

What was it made from?

A school bus and an Airstream trailer?

That winter after you married

 

I remember you in your beautiful house

With your children and grandchildren and my children

And our mom

And my kids ran out the front door

Where the sun shone on the grass

For what seemed like miles

And I had no more a care in the world

Than the goldfinches visiting your front yard feeder

And the cows across the road

Panhandling for apples

 

I remember you

Those last days

Suffering between sleeping

When I had not the heart to say

That I will miss you sister

From now until I see you again

I will miss you

 

Linda McCutcheon
1952 – 2010

 

Categories: Poetry Tags: