Tuesday, January 12, 2021

Word: Ailurophile=Cat Lover

As a true aficionado of Stella Gibbons’ Cold Comfort Farm  (1932), I couldn't resist captioning this Normaphoto  after the wondrous character, Aunt Ada Doom: '‘Twas a burning noonday, sixty-nine years ago. And me no bigger than a titty-wren. And I saw something na(sty in the woodshed)."



 Much as I would like to do a doodle of Aunt Ada's titty-wren, midnight has passed and my powers submit to curfew. So instead, I'll submit for your consideration another word: Pyroclastic. Pyroclastic is an adjective applied to volcanic gasses, poisonous smoke,  lava and heinous chunks sucked off the roof of Perdition to spew and spread  destruction, death and fear over the surface of Earth. Lately, this word has gained use as a gerund, pyroclasting political tantrums in a capitol once dedicated to government by discussion --to sanity.

And, before bed, while I'm at it, I call upon political parties to accord others courtesy. Cats of all persuasions have intense common interests. Y'think humans might keep up?

Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Davy Crockett Coincidence

I had a racoon hat
That recovered and
Returned to the wild.
I was an unusual child,
Like other selves, left
Our narrow lanes and
Consorted with elves,
Fell out of our brains.
What, you too? Thought
So: let us, you and 
I, together go --adventure
Awaits, of that I'm sure. 

Saturday, October 24, 2020

Fall Light


 Fall light turns summer
Gently away and wards
Scalding days off  our
Poor yard's woody end.
From a  shaded clearing
We are hearing herons
Overhead, and falling
Leaves sail lower flight
In susurrus spreading
Under hushed fall light.
 

Wednesday, October 14, 2020

Geometry of Indivisibility

                        

                         (Sunflower and Marigolds from Norma's Garden)

Circle unbroken, we
Woke into an arc, continued
A whole turn and
Learned each word
Reaches for the next.
The text endures. 
It is yours and is, for me,
Mysterious, true.
It surrounds me.
It loves you.

 

Wednesday, August 26, 2020

Out Of August



She just now sent this
From the kitchen entitled
"Don't Forget To Laugh"--
One of many yearly
"Veggieportaits" she 
Uses to lure me out of
August, awful month except
For so many loved ones'
Birthdays, harvests, stunning
Flavors but hot as...
Well, who can complain as
Garden deliriants obtain? 

Friday, June 26, 2020

Homonyms Or Homophones?


In music, in thought, we find
The mind entails a notion
Of all things and the
Mind entails an ocean
Of all things...
            ...as does the
Pacific as our star leans
Into sunset , where life,
Language bring an ocean
And notion to mean
Much the same thing.
 




Tuesday, May 26, 2020

Oh Dear

I have just now written a grampa poem based on perusal of photo-archives and remembered stories from relatives. It could be a ballad if I could rhyme things oftener, but I'm happy with it. Hope you are too. --Geo.



Oh dear, what shall
I do, and what good will
It do when I do it?
Grampa took a train
As far as he could,
Hired a boat by the bay.
He made his way through
Thoroughfares, Bedlam,
Where squares became
Parallelograms --in defeat,
Buildings lunged onto streets.
He found my great aunt Ann,
And likewise uncle Joe,
Gave them cash, food, wine.
So they got though it fine.
Grampa was a good man,
As angels grade themselves.
He never spoke of his good works
Then died when I was twelve.