Today's poet

[Alf]

My Father’s Diary


I get into bed with it, and spring
the scarab legs of its locks. Inside,
the stacked, shy wealth of his print—
he could not write in script, so the pages
are sturdy with the beamwork of printedness,
WENT TO LOOK AT A CAR, DAD
IN A GOOD MOOD AT DINNER, WENT
TO TRY OUT SOME NEW TENNIS RACQUETS,
LUNCH WITH MOM, life of ease—
except when he spun his father’s DeSoto on the
ice, and a young tree whirled up to the
hood, throwing up her arms—until
LOIS. PLAYED TENNIS, WITH LOIS,
LUNCH WITH MOM AND LOIS, LOIS
LIKED THE CAR, DRIVING WITH LOIS,
LONG DRIVE WITH LOIS. And then,
LOIS! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! SHE IS SO
GOOD, SO SWEET, SO GENEROUS, I HAVE
NEVER, WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE
TO DESERVE SUCH A GIRL? Between the dark
legs of the capitals, moonlight, soft
tines of the printed letter gentled
apart, nectar drawn from serif, the
self of the grown boy pouring
out, the heart’s charge, the fresh
man kneeling in pine-needle weave,
worshipping her. It was my father
good, it was my father grateful,
it was my father dead, who had left me
these small structures of his young brain—
he wanted me to know him, he wanted
someone to know him.

Sharon Olds

[Hes]

That's good OneOff...enigmatic too. I like it!

A poem inspired by what is essentially office gossip. Haven't written anything for a while as it seemed my stuff was really one dimensional (it's ok though, i only ever thought i'd write one poem, hence the username!) and was content to give it up for a while and read everyone else's offrerings. But it emerged today that a very good man at work had some very bad news this weekend and his life just got turned upside down. I wrote this at my desk (I know, such a skiver). It's a bit enigmatic (ok ok, vague), hence the explanation but it captures how it felt watching him today and having worked with him for the last year.


Mercy

This magnet of a man, stands six foot handsome
The corner office; takes home a king’s ransom
He even stands with a swagger, has the strut and the glide
A beautiful woman takes a place at his side
He works hard and works true, bends his mind and his back
Never hurt anyone either, no there isn’t a crack
He’s bulletproof, at least that’s how it seems
But everybody’s at the mercy of somebody’s dreams

[Hes]

Reading the above posts...enigmatic is the word of the day!

I really like the Kate Clanchy poems DT, I've not come across her before. I also really liked the Sharon Old one from Alf. Diaries make for very strange reading years later. I've reread some of my travel diaries and find myself caught between wincing and surprise at some of my thoughts back then.

[Hes]

This is beautiful. So simple.

I Climb the Western Tower in Silence (Joy of Meeting)

Li Yu


I climb the western tower in silence, the moon like a sickle.
Clear autumn is locked in the deep courtyard, where a wutong tree stands lonely.
Sorrowful parting has cut, but not severed our ties; my mind is still wild.
Separation is just like a taste in head and heart.

[Hes]

The Gulf

I tried
To capture in paper
The nameless, still bird
In my garden -
for you.

But
Between
What I sought to say
And what I did
The bird
Has taken to wings.

Ka Mohanarangan

[freckle]

You were an early bird this morning freckle

Indeed, early enought to fit in a very productive meeting with a physio who diagnosed something akin to "girly knee"...apparently I have a weakness in the inside left bit of my quad which is giving me knee pain but the good new is that I can build that muscle up fairly quickly and it doesn't preclude running in the long term. Apparently many women are prone to this type of weakness becuase their hips are wider hence the tag I have given it of "girlie knee". Some brilliant stuff on here this morning especially raspberries...I need to nick off now tho cos I am supposed to be working...looking forward to re reading all posts later...

[Mountain Goatess]

Thoughts While Climbing

Today I climbed a rock
while of my life I tried to take stock,
and while I was climbing I was thinking
that I can't go on sinking.
There is a bottom to every trench
every loose nut can be tightened with a wrench.
And so it's time to remember the strength of my past,
all loose ropes to make fast,
adjust the tiller and steer to the new course
and remember that happiness comes from more than one source.

Eldritch Mungo

[Mountain Goatess]

A moment lost!
Love it Hes x

The Gulf

I tried
To capture in paper
The nameless, still bird
In my garden -
for you.

But
Between
What I sought to say
And what I did
The bird
Has taken to wings.

Ka Mohanarangan

[freckle]

Thoughts While Climbing

Today I climbed a rock
while of my life I tried to take stock,
and while I was climbing I was thinking
that I can't go on sinking.
There is a bottom to every trench
every loose nut can be tightened with a wrench.
And so it's time to remember the strength of my past,
all loose ropes to make fast,
adjust the tiller and steer to the new course
and remember that happiness comes from more than one source.

Eldritch Mungo

I absoultely LOVE LOVE LOVE this poem, so hopeful and so true...thank you MG for posting ! x

[freckle]

I know its not spring....but I love this poem, the imagery, the sense of loss and the last four lines...

THE WIDOW'S LAMENT IN SPRINGTIME

by: William Carlos Williams (1883-1963)

Sorrow is my own yard
where the new grass
flames as it has flamed
often before but not
with the cold fire
that closes round me this year.
Thirtyfive years
I lived with my husband.
The plumtree is white today
with masses of flowers.
Masses of flowers
load the cherry branches
and color some bushes
yellow and some red
but the grief in my heart
is stronger than they
for though they were my joy
formerly, today I notice them
and turned away forgetting.
Today my son told me
that in the meadows,
at the edge of the heavy woods
in the distance, he saw
trees of white flowers.
I feel that I would like
to go there
and fall into those flowers
and sink into the marsh near them.