Friday, November 06, 2009

The Little Sadness Poem --revised a few times

You ask,

what is it that isn't there?

The color of the trees before

their limbs went bare.

What is it that isn't there?

What remains is music

that floated once in air.

The sweater that you wore

held a single strand of hair.

Ghazal for Autumn. Ghazals for Children

Originally uploaded by garagesoap

Ghazal for October

My dog picks up his gait in October
Cool weather stepping for our Nate, in October

Nights cold, days sweater warm, the leaves blushed,
wrapped in red and gold for their date in October.

Behind the brown prickly heads of coneflowers
Grew peach-colored mums at the gate in October.

The moonlit walk through the dark dry leaves with candy
on our tongues, such sweet dreams, the bait in October.

The warm kitchen smells of cinnamon and apples.
Please… One more piece on my plate in October!

On the horse-pulled cart, a vine of voices,
Jostle to our pumpkin patch fate in October.

The forest symphony quit. Crickets and peepers
Packed their instruments and now its silent, late in October.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Ghazal's written inspired by Miss Rumphius Effect
Please let me know if you can't find the Ghazal for October (Problem with the HTML).
If you haven't read a ghazal before :

1. Each couplet is its own jewel. Couplets are not related. Perhaps, emotionally but not semantically.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Inspired by Miss Rumphius and Wallace Stevens (of course)

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Cicada in August

Within the forest oaks
the only sound is the drum
of the male cicadas.
I was of one mind
like the patient oak
that waits the cicadas' climb.
The cicada flew into the glass.
It buzzed on its side
like a broken pinwheel
in the wind.
It's one with the marvelous heroes:
The cicada climbs the nearest support,
splits open its shell
and emerges.
I do not know which amazes more:
The slow underground life of the young,
or the sight of nymphal skins in August's trees.
The fans blew the hot air
across the room.
Pages curled on the desk.
Far off they were climbing.
Their small sound organ

You admirers of feathered wings,
Do you not see
the long translucent beatings
of this tiny bright eyed thing?
I know scales and arpeggios,
the tyranny of the bow,
but the cicada
knows the essence
of what I hope to know.
When the cicada
moved on
the oak tree slept.
As the cicadas sing
together, throwing their rhythm
into the darkness,
even the bomba dancer
cannot command the beat.
She sped her sports car over highways
her wrists clicking with bracelets.
At night she dreams
all her charms and rings
are cicadas with emeralds
for wings.
The leaves are turning.
The old cicadas must be dying.
It was hot and humid all day and evening.
The clouds came.
The cicadas clung
to their branches.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Leonardo da Vinci Park ~
Originally uploaded by alicepopkorn - busy

I will bring an umbrella. One should never forget their umbrella.
Photo by Alicepopkorn-busy a


Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
an apple for my teacher, and an anteater because picnics always have ants and I am bringing butter biscuits
in case there aren't any ants.

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
crunchy cashews, and a chirpy chimpanzee,
some delicious dumplings, dazzling diamonds
Elegant eggplants and even eclairs for
the fairies found in the flowers.

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
galloping gazelles, high stepping horses,
and individually wrapped icecreams
just in time for jumping with my friends
Jane, Jasmin, and Junette.

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
from Australia a Kangaroo who gets a kick out of kielbasa
and one lively lioness
who loves lunaria, and many marvelous monkeys
full of mischief and munchies made with marshmellows.

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
nine noisy nuthatches in a nest. Nothing more.

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park
and I am bringing olives, oysters, oatmeal cookies,
and an opened box of paint for painting
portraits quick and quaint
of a really rude red rooster who slips and slides
over a seesaw to steal my saltine crackers and soggy sandwiches
that truly taste terrible.

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
an umbrella from Umbria, and an ugly duckling under my arm for all of us
to admire (because the ugly duckling is really a beautiful swan.)

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
a painting signed "Vincent" of a vase with welcoming sunflowers.

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
friends: Xavier, YOU, Zak, Zoe, and Zelda.

I love the park, don't you?

Sunday, July 05, 2009

I can't resist. Here's a firefly joke:

What happened to the dog that swallowed a firefly?

It barked with de-light!

Saturday, July 04, 2009

Firefly Poem (revision) Photo Creative Commons
Originally uploaded by V31S70

Mami said let's ride in the car;
I wore my pajamas and she drove very far...

We went through a forest, thick with dark trees.
I slept the whole way with my head on my knees.

Then she stopped, got out, at the top of a hill
Where we spread out a blanket and sat very still.

Diamonds were falling, a dazzling delight;
Bright-eyed were we by firefly light.

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Happy Sheep
Originally uploaded by David Masters

The Fisheep (a fantasy mammal/fish)

Unlike a true fish
the fisheep doesn't swim very deep
rather, it swishes along and floats
like something made of cotton but a boat.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Stay tuned for poems about these hybrids --

The Frogrilla
and the infamous fisheep

Originally uploaded by katmere

What is Creative Commons? You will often see photographs posted on this blog by other people. I write the posts but borrow these photographs. These photographers have chosen to use a different type of copyright --not the ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. I find these sharing/caring people's photos in a flickr search for "Creative Commons." You can share their photos as long as you give their identity as the creator. It's very cool. That you everyone in the Creative Commons pool. Love swimming with you!

Sunday, May 31, 2009

common toad waiting for food
Originally uploaded by bjortklingd

(As you can see, this is a "common toad," a distant relative of the Toadonkey whose ears are, of course, much bigger.)


Very rare and hard to spot.
The largest of farm toads,
more toad than not.
Their spring song is more a bray
familiar like a mare
but not quite a neigh
nay, I say its hard to say
exactly as they are so seldom seen or heard.
They're fast with their legs up front;
they kick behind in a huge gallump.
A miniature seesaw,
they sometimes sing heehaw, heehaw!

Monday, May 25, 2009

summer is dancing
Originally uploaded by alicepopkorn

I Love Summer Time

I like to feel the sun shine
I like to dip my feet in water cold
I like to skip between the chalk lines
until my days grow old

I like it if the birds still sing
When my dreams take wing,
when it's light,
And the fireflies light up the night

I love summer time
flavored ices bought with dimes
knees scraped and banged up blue
all my wild days long overdue

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Not Another Bee Poem, Oh no!!!!!

Outside my window was a bee
a fuzzy, humming bumble bee
going about its bee-business busily
buzzing, obviously with glee;
as far a I could see,
it was happy being busy in a daffodil flower
when I spied it in that early morning hour.

Monday, April 06, 2009

Pip the Cat
Originally uploaded by garagesoap

is rather flip.
He skit-skats
across the mats.
Wanting so to be outdoors,
he runs across the floors.
Pip isn't one to nip or nap.
He's a purrfect chap.
Furry, always in a hurry, very purry.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Spring crocus, creative commons.
Originally uploaded by Futurilla

P recious crocus
O pening wide in
E xile from its warm bed
T asting the cool air
R eaching up its head

Y awning, open to the sky

The Leaving (inspired by Leonard Cohen)

We packed a box, cleared a table.
Threw out old magazines, or what we were able.
It's time to go, it's time to move now.

We rolled up our rugs, emptied our drawers.
We wrapped dishes in paper, and swept up the floors.
It's time to go, it's time to move now.

Outside we raked leaves from the beds,
taking care not to break daffodil heads.
It's time to go, it's time to move now.

In the bird bath we poured the last cool water
and filled the feeders with finch seed for after.
It's time to go, it's time to move now.

Monday, March 23, 2009

P erched

O n the fence

E ach sparrow is a

T ease for the cat in the window

R eady to pouce; if only he were in the

Y ard.

Originally uploaded by *János*

Robin Redbreast

Robin Redbreast
Originally uploaded by John Spooner

creative commons license

P erhaps you thought poetry was made

O f words. But it is

E ven made of the robins, stones, oceans, and

T all oak and birch trees.

R eally.

Y ou only need to look and listen.

P eels from apples, cucumbers, left-

O ver leaves , grasses,

E gg shells, and coffee grounds decompose

T oday so that

R eturns of

Y esterday will fill tomorrow.

"P rimroses" the poet wrote.

O f flaura and fauna she was well versed.

E ach kingdom of the universe, she

T ouched with her pen to

R ecall, as she named them.

"Y es!" She exclaimed, "Yes!"
P eople rush in traffic all

O ver town.

E xcited and eager

T o get home, eat dinner,

R ead a book, or the newspaper,

Yawn and go to sleep.

P arties are

O ften

E nded after

T ime to

R ejoice and declare,

Y ahoo!
Composed with help from Wikipedia the online encyclopedia created by contributors.

P igeons are doves

O nly we often forget.

E ven the "Feral Rock Pigeon"

T hat you see in cities

R eally is a dove.

Y oung doves (pigeons) are called "squabs."

Black Capped Chickadee

Black Capped Chickadee
Originally uploaded by hlkljgk

from creative commons

Saturday, March 14, 2009

(Click to hear two Chickadee songs --both the Phoebe (fee-bee) and Chickadee dee dee)
Copyright 2006 Lang Elliott and Mighty Pods, LLC. All rights reserved. Site sponsored by birdJam and Nature Sound Studio. birdJam: the ultimate way to learn bird songs!

Phoebe Dating Song

I live in this tree!
Chirped cheery Miss Chickadee Dee.
Scat you prowling cat!

This tree belongs to me,
Sang Mr. Deedy, chickadee dee.
Then adding a note,
he whistled Phoebe, phoebe, phoebe...

Let's make it a date
Before it's too late
We have on our caps
While that cat naps

Flippity, flap, flap
Happy to fly
Before we're cat pie

Chickadee dee dee,
Chickadee dee dee

Friday, March 13, 2009

Originally uploaded by garagesoap

Bewildered and Out of Tune

There once was a bee named June,
who tried to make song with a spoon.
To improve she took music classes.
Her teacher said "June, you need glasses."
Poor, unmusical June, even Her buzz was doomed.

for LBM

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Written for Children will be pausing....I hope not to be gone too long.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Triolet with Violets

I saw a robin sitting in a tree
he was busy dreaming of Spring
and all the violets that he would see
I saw a robin sitting in a tree
he looked at me and did not flee
he sang the song he was meant to sing
I saw a robin sitting in a tree
he was busy dreaming of Spring

Saturday, February 14, 2009

today's snowman
Originally uploaded by hlkljgk

Little Four Inch Ghazal

Squirrels harvest acorns to eat in winter
while cat sleeps upon the stove seat in winter

Standing alone in the path gone white with snow
You find you need to warm your feet in winter

Mom stirred the maple syrup on the stove until we
Poured it, hot and sizzling on snow, a treat in winter

Our bellies heavy as we slid down hill
warmed still from Cream of Wheat in winter

When the barn filled with hay grew cold
Frigid nights you'd hear goats bleat in winter

Blanketed and arm in arm we’d pile on the couch
To watch the Marx Brothers catch heat in winter

We poured hot water over our ice home,
making walls of cold white sheets in winter.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Originally uploaded by bjortklingd

The February Peanut Show

I keep a bag of peanuts in a shopping bag on a chair in the kitchen for the squirrels and blue jays. Early in the morning I take a fistful and open the slider wide enough to fit my fist through. I need to make sure the cats don’t slip out and I don’t drop the peanuts too soon. I throw the peanuts onto the deck and my son and I watch them roll across the snow and ice. Our three cats press their noses to the cold slider and wait for the peanut show. It lasts only a few minutes, longer if I throw out more peanuts. The cats shiver a bit, their tails swooshing back and forth on the floor. The sounds of a dozen pigeons taking flight from the rooftop rises from their throats as if the cats were dreaming in reverse.

81091: medium success
Originally uploaded by Tomi Tapio

Monday, February 02, 2009

(syllables: 2, 4, 6, 8, 2)

Small bird,
looking for seed,
hopping over the ice --
Are your talons frozen as well,
small bird?

Small bird,
looking for seed,
hopping over the ice--
Much depends upon weather in

Monday, January 19, 2009

Obama bu Shepard Fairey to Telstar Logistic, Creative Commons
Originally uploaded by capitan.patagonia

A found-poem/ letter from Opinion/The New York Times

Dear President Obama,

Here is a list of the first 10 things you should do as president:

1. Fly to the White House in a helicopter.
2. Walk in.
3. Wipe feet.
4. Walk to the Oval Office.
5. Sit down in a chair.
6. Put hand-sanitizer on hands.
7. Enjoy moment.
8. Get up.
9. Get in car.
10. Go to the dog pound.

— Chandler Browne, age 12, Chicago

Crows - Towards the sun i fly, not as Icarus.
Originally uploaded by hashmil

THE CROW (photo by Hashmil on Flickr. Creative Commons License)

Notice the noble crow,
Truly magnificent—
Dark shields against the snow.
Stars that burned then were spent.
Where they go, we can’t know,
Those angels heaven sent.
The crow is not a curse,
But welcomes us to verse.

Written for Children Welcomes Polish Princess posting poems!

I climbed aboard a bumblebee's back
And up to the tree we flew
The bee was a bee
But his buzz was a quack
And his eyes were purple and blue

The tree was as tall
As a baby goat's toe
With leaves of silver and pink
I hung on tight as we swung to and fro
When I slipped and fell into ink

In an ocean I was, a chocolate cream pie
With white waves on a brown sea
I clapped my hands twice
When down from the sky
Came my friend the fat bumblebee

I climbed aboard a bumblebee's back
And the moon shone down on an ocean of ink
The stars peeked out from their blanket of black
And the trees in the warm wet ground did sink

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Plump gatherers of proud friends

If ever birds flocked fully together

Gainly in our waddling ends

Eating whatever, no matter the weather

Of course, we never measure or

Number our waists, our round gowns being all feather
River and Otter

There’s a river that hugs my town
On one side up and
One side down.
It’s like a slide that curls around.
I wish I could go for a boat ride!
There’s a path by the river
Where I learned about otters.
Maybe they’re there.
I’d like to find one,
I’d like to be kind to one.
I heard of a teacher
Who had an otter as a pet.
That’s nuts,
her house must have been all wet!

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Bad Weather

The streets are quiet and the schools are closed.
Ol'man winter drizzles rock candy on roads.

The yard is covered with ice that crackles,
and there's no seed left for the hungry grackles.

Two grey and mauve doves stand plump by the gate,
Until we can get out, they'll have to wait.

I color two hills, make the snow light blue,
one house with a smoke stack, and green pine trees, two.

This winter day whispers, "wait" in the wind,
I color while mother has socks she will mend.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

(No title yet, just an idea for a poem)

I practice the violin,
Hug the wood beneath my chin.

If only I was better with the bow,
I could make this music flow!

Music escapes from the heart's very own strings
when I give these lovely feelings wings.

Monday, January 05, 2009


Do we have a snow day today?

That would be nice!

No, it's just a two hour delay,

because of the ice.

Sunday, January 04, 2009

My Dog Paul

was very large, very tall.
He had a bed that spread
from wall to wall.
He was a hound
that we found on a visit
to the pound.
He had a gentle nature.
Such a beautiful creature.
My dog Paul,
he was the best
dog of all.

Saturday, January 03, 2009

SUMMER COUNT (updated with image from yoly D&D)

Gansos en la granja Summer Count

One golden moon early in June.

Two Chickadees feed their young without a spoon.

Three girls on bikes pass me by.

Four boys let go their kites to the sky.

Five sparrows come to the bird bath to drink

Six hands help Mama clean berries at the sink.

Seven squirrels keep shaded in the oak tree.

Eight ants dig tunnels so hard to see.

Nine fireflies seem to light up until dawn.

Ten geese dally across the lawn.


Bodega Bay

We watched the seals roll in on waves,

And gathered colored stones to make a maze.

That was a special gathering day,

The day we spent at Bodega Bay.

I was small and took your hand,

as we combed for shells in sand.

The Pelicans swooped and dove away,

That day we spent at Bodega Bay.