Monday, September 18, 2017

Mid-September: poems

#299 'TIS THE SEASON
Drier
than at any
time this summer--yellow-
bell and wild coleus both are
drooping.
~~

#297 WHIRRING
I hear
a hummingbird
behind me . . . in a bit,
it pauses within view, then flies
away.
~~

#298 HIDING
Redbird--
its 'chit' constant
but undiscovered. Now,
it's moved from the dogwood to the
maple.
~~

#300 ON THE PORCH AT DUSK
Night bugs
providing me
with stereophonic
music--some from the east, some from
the west.
~~

#301 A FORUM
Goldfinch,
tufted titmouse
and a sparrow all bathe.
Why so many birds all of a
sudden?
~~

#302 INTERPRETATION
"I think
he (the Prez) means..."
Why does his staff always
feel they have to explain the things
he says?
~~

#303 LOSS OF A FRIEND
Spacecraft
Cassini burned
up as planned in Saturn's
ringed atmosphere after twenty
years' work.
~~
c 2017, PL, dba lovepat press - hummingbird photo by Thurman Couch






Sunday, September 10, 2017

Tiny creatures lurking about: poems

Tiny
hummingbird rests
on a beautyberry
limb close to the feeder. Next look,
it's gone.

Next look,
it's back again.
Third look, there's TWO of them.
How much longer will they stay, I
wonder.
~~~
PL, 9/10/17

At dusk,
week-eating grass
around the roses, I
look up: nose to nose with a black
spider!
~~~
PL, 9/9/17

The squirrel
forages in
the wagon full of grass
clippings and irises' brown tips.
Surely,

with all
the pear leavings
thrown into the hedge row,
it's not hungry. It scampered off,
mouth full.
~~~
PL, 9/9/17

Juvy
redbird, robin
visit Couchwood today--
one in the purple shrub, one in
the grass.
~~~
PL,  9/9/17


Thursday, August 24, 2017

Pears, pears, pears, pears, working up the pears

 Second wagonload of wind-fall pears, August '17
pear petals
drifted
against the fence
--by Susan Delphine Delaney
from Facebook. Used with permission
~~~
a buzz
from the pail of pears
that need “working up”
--sycamore’s mottled bark, October monthly, 2012
~~~
bountiful harvest
one leaf and one pear still hang
on the ancient tree
-- in front of the moon (2010)

CINQUAIN
After
the pear harvest,
the south wind wrestles one
recalcitrant fruit to the ground.
My treat!
--posted on Facebook, 11.13.'14
~~~

leaving plenty
of the windfall pears
to gleaner bees
--a patch of yellow, 2005

ping of sealing lids—
thought of winter preserves
eases today’s work
--Connecting Our Houses, 1997

c 2017, Pat Laster dba lovepat press




Sunday, August 20, 2017

Pear-motif poems

From my January Gimcracks, January 30, 2003,
drizzly morning
a lone yellow pear
in the blackness
~~PL

From Dim Sum, 2005/II, p. 23:
apple orchard--
could I have
the pear tree
~~Yu Chang

From day breaks, February 20, 2000:
pear tree
white explosion on
the blue day
~~(the late) Dion O'Donnol

LOVE POEM II
I just finished breakfast
--cheese omelet
with picante sauce,
coffee, milk,
and a ripe
(the best kind)
pear.

I thought of you
and your buckets
of blown-off-the-tree
pears,
not to mention those
that resisted the wind.

It does not take much
to call you to mind--
maybe nothing at all--
but the pear served
admirably.

I hope you harvested
as much good from them
as I did.
~~Reformed from a note or email sent by L.T. sometime during 2012.



Wednesday, August 16, 2017

A poem by Wendell Berry

DARK WITH POWER
Dark with power, we remain
the invaders of our land, leaving
deserts where forests were,
scars where there were hills.

On the mountains, on the rivers,
on the cities, on the farmlands
we lay weighted hands, our breath
potent with the death of all things.

Pray to us, farmers and villagers
of Vietnam. Pray to us, mothers
and children of helpless countries.
Ask for nothing.

We are carried in the belly
of what we have become
toward the shambles of our triumph,
far from the quiet houses.

Fed with dying, we gaze
on our might's monuments of fire.
The world dangles from us
while we gaze.

--from The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry, page 28,
originally in the book Openings (1968) 

Friday, August 11, 2017

MID-SUMMER RAINS (poems)


AUGUST, 2017
T-storms
forecast daily
this week. Eek! New Orleans
is flooded. Are we next in line?
Not yet.
~~~
DELUGE
Blowing
rain--hard--pooling
in the grass; grays the street
and air. But--as if in a one-up
contest,

vicious-
sounding pickups
roar past angrily toward
somewhere. I sit under the roof
and swing.
~~~
AUGUST 1, 2012
Raining
just long enough
for me to walk around
the side of the house and turn off
the tap.
~~~

AUGUST 31, 2012
"Speed bump
ahead" sign just
above the floodwaters.
Boaters using other street signs
as oars.
      *
Remnants
of Isaac make
it to our state, with wind
and downpours, somewhat relieving
the drought.
~~~
~~~
c 2017 PL dba lovepat press    





















`

Monday, August 7, 2017

Several Etheree poems

PROBLEM
A
hummer
trapped inside
the screened-in porch--
it wouldn't be shooed,
hov'ring above door frame
bumping 'gainst transparent walls.
No butterfly net handy. But
an open wire hanger just might work:
hook red feeder on open door. Voila!
1997 ~~~

FRUGALITY
I
go through
coupons clipped
four months ago
from papers' inserts,
note expiration dates--
some 3 months old, some three days
past, which I separate and trash,
add current ones, still full of the hope
that I might save a dime or two next trip.
1998~~

THE SWIM SUIT AD
You
see this
bathing suit?
Now, do you see
the model pictured?
Is she a size 16
in women's, for heaven's sake?
More like a 6, but hey, her top
enhances her like mine: it smashes;
the waist minimizer feature doesn't!
2000~~

DR. JOHNNY WINK, OBU
His
satchel
in one hand,
a paper scrap
in the other, the
English professor walks
to class on the city's bike
trail and memorizes poems.
Once, I offered him a found pencil.
"Thanks. Some student always comes without one."
2001~~

c 2017 PL, dba lovepat press