This “poem of the week” written on August 23rd is a collection of loosely linked haiku that took off from my observation of dahlias and green beans being neighbors in our garden, but the poem turned out to be political. (The text is below.) I appreciated the Democratic National Convention redefining the Democratic Party as a much wider tent not only by featuring many Republican speakers who support the Harris-Walz ticket, but also by many speakers, including Kamala Harris and Tim Walz, expressing gratitude for growing up in diverse neighborhoods where people cared about and helped one another no matter how different they were.

I feel a special love for my neighbors who are loving and generous-hearted across political or any other kind of line that could divide. That’s the party that can save America and save this earth–the unconditional, neighborly love party. Thank you for being a part of it! Please use your voice!

Here’s the text of the poem:

big deep red dahlias
their garden corner sings joy
to neighbor green beans

our neighbors work hard
we hear them as we work too
pounding mowing songs

rooster and hen calls
neighbor children new baby
their songs make us glad

town picnic stranger
she believes we are all one
acts it and it’s true

white or purple gold
fall asters, orange monarchs
share sweet just right air

wind brings neighbor air
here we send sweet scents and peace
we work hard to make

come look a long time
into deep red cupped petals
then turn sing share light

8/23/24

I talk about the context of the poem in the video and a little about the form. It’s a classic Elizabethan sonnet, but it has more than one volta or turn, and the rhythm plays some tricks, which is fitting because it’s about spinning out of control.

Also, I highly recommend Brian McLaren’s book Life After Doom that I mention in my introduction.

Here is the poem:

360s down a steep slope skating rink—
my toddler daughter in the truck jump seat—
a cliff on one side—we slide toward that brink
and slam, spin, slam, by grace or lucky cheat,
against the three trees on that deadly side.
There’s nothing I can do with brake or wheel.
I let go, turn and smile, as if to slide
and smash and spin dizzy is fun to feel,
as if I know that things will work out right,
because the only thing in all my mind
is care for her, the urge to hold her tight
and have her know that life can still be kind—
even when, past control, all falls apart—
a gentle snow bank comes, a loving heart.

8/15/24

Here are two Poems of the Week for August 9, 2024. This week the influence of American oligarchs was on my mind as the nation saw their brazen attempts to destroy democracy and take more complete control. Why would people who have so much money want to make earth anything other than a peaceful, just paradise for all? Well, they don’t, so these poems are about where we can find comfort, guidance and strength in the face of this reality.

I chose two because they cover the same territory in two different ways. The first is a hai-net, one of my seven-loosely-linked-haiku poems, with some similarities to the sonnet. The second is a classic Elizabethan sonnet. Both are true to form except for their line-breaks.

these woods we walk through
thickets and tall old growth groves
grew here
without us

the trees know their way
acorn red sprouts
root
grow green
we get lost in there

our house phoebes nest
lay, hatch and feed new phoebes
that go the same way

no one taught buddha
but his life
that heard its truth
be still
and know god

hurricanes toxins
massive forces
this woods finds
ways to overcome

rich and powerful
crush lives destroy earth
lost lost
hear your acorn heart

earth will outlast us
but still could teach us
the way
we were born to know
8/4/24

The only thing
that we can look to
now is what has been
our one hope
all along: a human conscience
that will not
allow the ultimate
ascendancy of wrong,
however strong, without
a final fight, and here we are,
our next last chance
at hand to turn humanity
to choose
the light of love
for all the earth,
and take our stand with
Gandhi, Hebrew Prophets,
Buddha, Christ, all mothers,
microbes, forests,
corals, birds who teach
our heart what must be
sacrificed, who show the way
in loving acts and
words: life wants to live!
And it will be our guide
if we rise now and fight
on love’s meek side.
8/3/24

Here is the Poem of the Week for August 2, 2024. This is another hai-net (pronounced high net), a series of haiku that share some of the qualities of a classic sonnet. (I write a poem every day and wrote three of these this week and four sonnets.) Sweat had been literally pouring down me minutes before as I was out in another hot, humid day doing one of those order-making tasks, this time stacking firewood in the woodshed. Here is the text:

little rain forecast
somehow eight inches fell hard
we can’t trust the sky

feels good to stack wood
fold laundry make the house neat
some control somewhere

goldenrod sneezes
worth it–queen annes lace tall stocks
let mess be good too

slow storms make flash floods
gandhi prayed silent two weeks
then launched the salt march

pink steeplebush bloom
made up of many small flowers
church as a movement

fear makes us crazy
let the sky bring what it brings
if rain falls on love

love could fix the sky
enough love brings enough rain
if billions love hard

7/30/24

I am posting this on the website several days late…

In the past week I wrote four sonnets and three of these series of seven haiku I call hai-nets because they have some of the classic characteristics of sonnets. I was deeply moved on the day I wrote this by receiving a photo from a long time ago with people and animals in it that I had dearly loved. I try not to be logical when I write these hai-nets, so they respond in intuitive, quirky ways to the emotions and memories that were flooding me. Here’s the text:

just picked up
the sticks
my mower blade
has complained of
ten thousand times

so long things
don’t change then one day
first frost first fire
ten thousand fall leaves

the old photo
shows us back
in our late 20s
many changes
back

she was so young
then
skinny dipping
godiva
still lives
eternal

old monk
heron
stalks the pond outlet
watches
as flesh
flows beyond time

hummingbird hovers
wanting these sweet
porch nectars
life’s so short
please drink

all you
I once loved
my love has grown
and still grows
all
is still good
there

7/23/24

Here is my poem of the week. You can listen on the video or read the text below. It’s another of my hai-nets, a loosely linked series of seven haiku with some of the characteristics of a sonnet. This time the haiku are stealth–they are classic 5-7-5 syllable counts but the line breaks hide that fact. I wrote this on the morning of the 17th and later Christina cut my hair, thus the discrepancy between the words and image.

first cicada song
cool breeze
through the shady lawn
heats
buzz
around it

weeds high
hair
too long
too little sleep
dizzy
ah
old friend
comes for tea

swallowtail circles
back and
back
to red bee balm
enough?
no
not yet

old poets gather
sip saki and write haiku
savor and laugh long

escape
to deep
woods
while empires
do
what they do
here we make
life
good

empires
won’t
let be
citizens
of spirit realm
they
hate
our peace here

greed is so
silly
how it kills
the life
it needs
poets laugh
to death

7/17/24

Here is my poem of the week of July 12th, posted a few days late. It was written on July 5th, way back before the assassination attempt and about a thousand other earth shaking events. It still feels timely enough to share. It’s a first draft and the video is a first take. Meanwhile I keep writing a poem a day, responding to the natural and human and spiritual world. Here’s the text I read in the video. Again the message is, Use Your Voice–to good ends.

The robin chased the hawk away
by voice, naming it
loudly
so that all would
hear, defending life by
love’s courageous choice
to rise
and fly toward
what it knew to fear.

There comes a time
when we must fight off
threat, blood thirsty
bugs that bite or thugs
that sting. It is their
nature,
we must not forget, just
as it is that cowards
want a king. We need to have
compassion
as we fight.

The corporation’s
greed
began as
need.

To risk our lives for
truth,
for what is right, allows the
eggs to hatch and young
to feed. There always will be
hawks,
till this world ends. Love’s
wisdom
fights to let them live
as friends.

7/5/24