Wednesday, September 30, 2015

September just got here! Where did it go? Poems

From the upper deck of 505 Spring Street, Eureka Springs
 
early fall crispness
through the woods, a roof
catching the sunlight
~~
 
early-morning
brouhaha by crows
in the north yard
~~
 
a busy Monday
bras and blue jeans
in the same wash load
~~
 
southern high-schooler
warming up her vehicle
in late September
~~
 
the house demolished
in the yard, the Virgin
Mary still standing
~~
from a crisp brown leaf,
September 2015
c PL

Sunday, September 20, 2015

September Cinquains

brother Guy Couch's begonia
 
HIDDEN
The height
of deceit: a
perfect windfall pear, just
right for breakfast, yielded a mere
six bites.
 
FAUNA
Plumb-lined
in a row: CAT
crouching on the porch edge
eyeing the sitting SQUIRREL. Beyond,
a BIRD.
 
ANOTHER TIME, PERHAPS?
A black
butterfly flits
toward the bucket of pears
ready to be "worked up." I show,
it goes.
 
MID-SEPTEMBER, 2012
Bringing
the portable
heater inside to warm
the bathroom after a dip in
the temp.
 
BAROMETER
During
the night, my toes
ached. 'The weather's changing'
I thought. Sure enough, thunderstorms
forecast.
 
SUSTENANCE
Outside
the south window,
a juvenile, gray bird
feasts on a circlet of beauty-
berries.
 
c 2015 PL

Thursday, September 10, 2015

New poem: an acrostic for autumn


PL- summer '15
 
T oday's fog
H indered visibility.
E ager to sit out in the
 
C ool, 69-degree morning, a
H alcyon start to
A day a ways out from a
N ew season--autumn, fall-- with
G abby birds flying
I n and out of the trees,
N aturally attuned,
G etting ready.
 
S o, too, in earth's cooling, I
E dge toward autumn tasks:
A im to finish the
S idewalk
O ut to the street,
N eaten the flower beds . . . .
 
 
PL - 9. 10. 2015

Monday, September 7, 2015

POEMS FOR LABOR DAY: William Carlos Williams & Edgar A Guest

Whatever way to labor--professionally or DIY
 
FINE WORK WITH PITCH AND COPPER
by William Carlos Williams
 
Now they are resting
in the fleckless light
separately in unison
 
like the sacks
of sifted stone stacked
regularly by twos
 
about the flat roof
ready after lunch
to be opened and strewn
 
The copper in eight
foot strips has been
beaten lengthwise
 
down the center at right
angles and lies ready
to edge the coping
 
One still chewing
picks up a copper strip
and runs his eye along it
 
--from Selected Poems
##
 
THE BETTER JOB
by Edgar A. Guest
 
If I were running a factory
I'd stick up a sign for all to see;
I'd print it large and I'd nail it high
On every wall that the men walked by;
And I'd have it carry this sentence clear:
"The 'better job' that you want is here!"
 
It's the common trait of the human race
To pack up and roam from place to place;
Men have done it for ages and do it now;
Seeking to better themselves somehow
They quit their posts and their tools they drop
For a better job in another shop.
 
It may be I'm wrong, but I hold to this--
That something surely must be amiss
When a man worth while must move away
For the better job with the better pay;
And something is false in our own renown
When men can think of a better town.
 
So if I were running a factory
I'd stick up this sign for all to see,
Which never an eye in the plac could miss:
"There isn't a better town than this!
You need not go wandering, far or near--
The 'better job' that you want is here!"
 
--from Collected verse of Edgar A. Guest
 ##