Memorial Day Update

slog2live came about Jan. 1
in the usual resolute way
not at first for poems
not at all

More typically, something along the lines of
"Beautiful warm summer day, the sound of a boat motor drifting under the jet noise some miles up..."
no, even that sounds more like poetry now...

But it is a beautiful day.
I'm sitting on the porch,
off to my right is the recently featured oak tree
and on the table, a cup of hot tea.

I don't know many war dead,
or for that matter, war living.
A few. There are many.

A dog strolls into the yard,
sniffing purposefully.
I shoo it away, or at least
shout. Then, run out
and throw a tea bag at it.

The dog is quite friendly
and comes wagging its tail.
I remark that it's too friendly.
It gives a slight woof and moves on.

Memorial Day. My wife and son
went to watch the parade.
I suppose I should have too.
He wanted to watch (and hear) them shoot the guns.

Boys are famous for liking to make things into guns.

Today I want to take stock of where slog2live:

• has been
• is
• is going

This is also a pattern that people are famous for doing.

The trouble is,
I don't really feel
like there's time to do a recap, and
I doubt that you
really want to spend time
reading about it.

(I mean, it's all there in the archives)

The only thing I'd point out is that initially it was an effort to get organized.

Then it morphed to being an assortment of efforts at poetry.

I'm not very sure where it will end up. But I do hope to improve at being organized, and also at being expressive with poetry.

Broken Branch

Before (what I'm doing for fun today):

"That time of year, thou mayest in me behold..."
when a large branch inexplicably breaks from the old oak tree
and I ponder whether it is worth the risk
to set the ladder against the tree
ascend some twenty feet
and by means unknown
remove the rest
of the broken
branch

Means of ascent (above)

Security jump rope (below)

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Break time (post these shots, tie a rope on the branch):

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an amputree...

---

And so it ends, this drama aloft -

and I, safe upon the ground
know well that many a man
could and would have done
more swiftly and with greater skill

but nonetheless
I'm grateful
that the ladder
didn't kill

Side View

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An After-Dinner Meeting

Agenda:

• whites, blues & grays
• tree outline
• touch of sunset
• water
• Other
  

May

Delicate wings

fill the evening sky

Delivering Results

There are those
you can always count on
to come through

better than this

"it doesn't get
much better
than this"

he said, and
I just looked
and nodded

Wire We Hear

Life at the end
of a wire --
connect time

Backyard Path

step by step

I watch you grow

and when you go,

the path will still

be here

outclick

Ah, the challenge of an open page.

Too little living and the writer turns inward
to feed on writing thoughts
and in this self-consumed state
sends everyone out
with a click

Forgive Me

I've gone around the sun
yet again
seven times seven

:)

Rest (anagrams)

need more rest

metered snore

de mort 'serene'

or meet sender

**************
there be more
(beer theorem)

Naptime

A fluent birdsong
cardinal red
cat attentive, restless

dog inspects
the property line
checks the bark alarm

boy stops in
munch, munch
and back outside

radio frequency
internet flux
another IM afternoon

moonsail
vapor trails
past the shadows

alternative naptime

Upgrade

Generations of computers
flow through homes
and lives

web net surf click
wrist carpal phalanges
and a stiff neck

look up and far often
execute stretchitives
listen visually, watch sound

synaesthetic cacophony
resolves on exit click
while the meter runs on

Lenses

put them on in the morning
brain circuit rearrangement
surely it will be better
later

clarity in some spots
while others lacking;
worse, perhaps -
flawed

rhinos and moles
and whales, I suppose
may have a tough time
seeing past their noses

whales are actually reported to have good vision, though I'm not sure how that is determined

How to Lose Blog Traffic

Too specific
way too much data
not general interest

I think you just lost
your grip
on my website

please come back

this entry prepared with special consulting help from Peter of clear blue sky

Copper Time

Here at 8:29 PM
and about 35 seconds
noticing the house across the street
which seems to be a different color

Of course, it's evening
and sometimes the light is different
especially when I feel
like I could sleep for a whole day

Exercise
yes, I suppose
but it didn't have that coppery look before
I'm almost positive

Copper has 29 protons
and about 35 neutrons
for an average atomic mass
of 63.54, or 63.5436 (to be more exact)

Haiku definition

Reference to a definition of haiku.

Just Write

two open editors
four hands
quietly compose

just write

wondering

when I maybe should have been
sleeping
there were all these ideas
so I came down here
to tell you
and now
I'm going back.
Mainly, I wonder
what's next
which sometimes
just leads
to more
wondering

e-motion

Write all day
write all night
won't fill up
this monstrous drive
for e-motion
and
it doesn't matter
if you use capitals
OR NOT

Poems in a Hurry

After lying in a fetal-like position most of the early morning,
I take advantage of the daylight
to protect my feet
and get out of bed.
A glance at the clock and I know
that there is barely time.
And yet I read the news,
watch the sky,
revisit yesterday's writing,
and wonder how long those pinkish-purple blossoms will last.
It could rain.
I know
there isn't much time

Not a good idea to hurry poems.

What is it...

What is it
when I can sit all weekend
and read and write this poetry stuff?
Where did this come from?
I never had time to read
and now it seems so easy to choose.
What if the piles by the door grow a bit?
And that camera - keep it handy,
and keep the batteries charged.
My son now, he likes to write, be like dad.
Well, not quite like dad, but you know.
I pull out the violin and play a few jigs,
put on Bach and cruelly mangle the memorized lines
but some day it'll be there.
Meanwhile, I feel pretty good about this.
Don't know what makes good poetry, but
know it when I
read it.

Moon Rest

orbit down

mind spaces

for you

wreath note

simply blue

hanging around

and a little down

Field of View

I pondered whether I could write any decent poetry.
No...ponder is too strong a word.
Worried is closer to the truth.
The garage roof is a wreck.
Shouldn't be hard to fix, really.
But somehow each day goes by
and the roof is still like it was.
This is kind of a problem.
It's not going to collapse in
for at least 25 years, I'd guess.
But I know the neighbors must hate it.
And so do I.
Guess I'll call some handyman guy
who knows what to do.
It's there,
Just past the monitor
in my field of view
like a permanent background

Ship Building

Industry by the sea
hard working guys
a chilly breeze

for love
for money
for daily bread

labor to be had -
an economy turned
and ships were borne away

US Patent 6543210
describes
a ditch mower

Stunning

Behind the scenes
a car ad of all things
I had to watch

Careen Path

Fire a marble through a set of pins
rattle tattle tattle tick
kinetic friction absorbed, reflected
final spot selected

Everyone goes home
night music starts
stars quietly sparkle
moon's night off

old town restaurants
caballeros
assorted mixed nuts
primary color light

Orville and Wilbur
paid an attorney
to get the patent
the second time

Looking Up

"I'll look you up sometime"

It's almost time to go

the last few words

Scout Boy

Let's see
what's in the barrel
...a bit moldy

old boy scout shirt
nice badge on the pocket
a few pins

20 mile hike
look for the ride
that wasn't there

morse code -..-
a merit badge
for dits and dahs

award ceremony
4 evening miles
past farm dogs

deciding
it was enough
and joined a band

Benchmark

today

we start

again

Crack of Dawn

listen -
that bird
just started

stretch -
joints move
and add
to the crack of dawn