Thursday, August 25, 2005

In-Plane Misery

From a recent plane trip:

Crowded in-plane misery and cramped, this flight.
Do I shiver in a blanket, vent screwed tight.
Or air nozzle twisted left full-open,
blowing slightly on my head.
Thigh-to-thigh, hot ears,
knees knock hard and bruise against seat-back.
And sleep? Not me, except my feet,
would rather that they run.
Please! These seats,
I feel, require sweat and blood and tears.
I hear the whining of the engines in my ears.
The pressure causing baby’s tears and
howling for the making of this long flight out.
The hours splayed from minutes by my mind—
Each one, another calling of the law, physique.
Please, uncork the stopper of this knotted
Ball of matter in the bottle: time and space.
But even in this misery, I tap the ether of My Maker's smile
And know that this is just a finite flight.

Notebook and Bic

Picture this one in spiral-bound form instead:

This notebook does not loose its charge
and shut down unexpectedly.
I close it when I want.
No glitch in code demands re-boot
or sent lo-mem report.
I see the end, some fifty pages hence,
and carry extra pens.
Can write all night and
anywhere I carry
this notebook and my ClicStic.
I think I will quit now to
recharge my spell-checked mind.
I tire, so I close notebook,
un-click my Bic and go to sleep.
What I wrote I know
is saved in black and white,
with only my own errors when I awake.
Goodnight notebook and Bic,
I thank your ballpoint tip.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Tree Climbing

Me in the spring maple that inspired this poem.

Tree Climbing

Sitting at the forest’s edge
You reached to me
And I remembered why I was born.
I stretched from rock to your arms
Limbs lifted me from earth
The maple tree, the fir.
Climb higher, you said
Reach for the sky, like my cousins and me.
Limber limbs. Strong and supple.
Bounce the spring of wind and sun dreams.
The life up here. The power
Strikes fear in the hearts of every mother.
Come down, you fool!
Keep climbing.
Bounce a little for the thrill.
Reach and pull higher still—for the fun.
Remember, I have opposing thumbs.
Lived here before.
Keep climbing.

Four limbs in a hundred arms of safety
No danger. Can’t fall.
I’m in a living thing.
You love me.
Oak and ash and alder.
Remember when I faltered?
You were there, a seedling.
Now we swing and sing with wind and birdsong.
So long from fall through winter.
Now to spring again.
Keep climbing.

Steps to sky and higher
In your loving arms.
Chestnut, beech and walnut.
Feed the feet that reach from earth to sky.
I climb the trees of reason.
Can you tell me why?
Our hands and limbs love sun and rain and wind.
Wave to lift the light hearts to the sky.
Up here I see forever.
The eyes of the horizon are upon me.
From earth to sky
Keep climbing.

In a tree a child ever grows.
Love of life—the sap within our limbs.
I sing within your arms. We know.
O climbing tree.
A child ever growing in a tree.

                      ak— Spring 2002

Friday, August 12, 2005

Song of the Waters

What's in your heart?

Not by pen and never voiced, not even thought,
but still a dull ache, a begging for freedom
not experienced this life
or a million past.

What’s holding back the waters before the flash and burst?
Before a trickle knows there are others
joining rivulets and streams?
All heading to the same sea of souls.

Sing your song--even a sad one.
Wail for your lost love
or the cross at Carver Beach.
Even a tombstone has an ear for woe.

And when the tears flow freely,
through haze and ache is freedom
clearly the cause
at the center of your voice.

Wishes not experienced do someday
break out in song of volume,
song of the waters
to the sea.

Horizon of Skies

When life did lack excitement
Grand rapids and sunsets did not touch me.
People were but the buffer to this life’s long day.
Work and play, dinner and mating
Did lack in its stretch
Till a soul took the breath
Of my smile.

In life complacent, when naught moves you to poetry
Note thee, there’s a soul you’ve not met yet.
Look beneath the rapids,
And beyond the horizon of skies.
Deep in the heart of God is a smile
You’ll remember
Your own.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

it whispered

did not call the name of my god today
in honor of all others
whispered in my ear
i hear your voice
is a secret
that can be heard by all
this link is only one
of a million more
a billion
our own connection
honors all
i did not call
it whispered
honors all with love
respect for brother's sister
we are one