Posts tagged ‘David ignatow’

May 10, 2014

Sunny day, Saturday, the day before Mother’s day

by jhon baker

And I don’t feel like posting but think I should.

Sitting on the back porch and enjoying coffee – or what of it we can (see previous post) – smoking and contemplating the universe at last. Too much brain activity for such a beautiful day.

What looks to be six week old kittens peek their heads out from under the porch so we feed them and wait for them to brave the unknown world that is our backyard. An admittedly scary place – the world, including the backyard.

I think of David Ignatow – “The world is so difficult to give up” – I have maybe a half dozen poems memorized and that is almost another – it’s the second line I have trouble with and sometimes in the middle I remember a different poem and start that one instead. I used to have Poe’s “The Raven” committed to memory but now all I hold onto is the first verse. Shame, really. No-one seems to memorize poetry anymore. I’ve committed none of my own to memory and I ought.

the world is so difficult to give up

tied to it by small things

my eyes noting movement

color and form

I am watching, unable to leave

for something is happening so I stand

in a shower of rain or under a hot sun

worn out

with looking

– David Ignatow

the line breaks are wrong, I know and I cannot remember where they go – but this is a close approximation.The world is difficult to give up, but we must. The party will indeed go on without us and in this we must find comfort.

I smoke again and contemplate something closer – more tangible than the universe – my mind isn’t great enough to realize the many stars and the shear insignificance of our own. Earth, the only planet in our Solar system not named after one God or another, our planet is named after it’s dirt. I contemplate its constant survivor, its hero – the tardigrade.

 

Advertisements
April 16, 2014

late night posting

by jhon baker

Lying in bed and finding typing difficult to do with any sense of rhythm.

I have Clifford Brown queued up on the iPod and Dawkins as my nighttime reading.

I type now, in the dark, by touch alone.

Medications have been taken and callouses removed, Ruger LC9 on the nightstand – I am naked ready for action.

My nails are long and the moon, nearly full, is no longer blood, calling for the end of times.

I rest easy – thinking long thoughts about David Ignatow, Russia, and the wars in general.  I am not a purveyor of the selfie or silly quizzes though I take them out of boredom. I am heavy bored because I lack inner resources. Thank you John Berryman.

My wife wears too many clothes.

 

 

%d bloggers like this: