Thursday, December 31, 2009

shade of blue

Blue moon near the dark of the year; blues in its light. All the talk at the coffee shop of the fear of flight, fear of flyers, fear of the night, fear of failure, fear of success, sellers and buyers, smart fellers under duress. Guarded cheer of Happy New Year's, blue as the sight of bar light reflected in tears. But blue, too, is the color of dawn; something new, something to go on.

~ RM

blue moon tonight, 31 Dec. '09
last blue moon: 30 June '07
next blue moon: 31 Aug. '12

Thursday, December 24, 2009


Ya. Good morning. Merry Christmas.

Get up now.

Your ma's milking cows

since before five.

Ya. Since she put presents

under the tree.

We'll go in the truck

and haul silage from the other place

before church.

Ya, it's cold.

Ya, just a couple minutes then.

Eat quick.

We gotta go.

You know she's gonna sing

in the choir today.

Ya. Good morning. Merry Christmas.

Get up now.

The cows gotta eat.

We'll clean the barn later.

Get up now.

~ Ralph Murre

old drawing;

new poem

Monday, December 21, 2009



Brown trucks and white, with red and blue;
trucks of indeterminate hue carrying, cross-continental,
and to Tupelo and Wichita,
mountains, monumental, of stuff: mundane,
sentimental stuff bearing the urgent message,
I have not forgotten -
that you’re hungry, that you love, that you ordered,
that I owe, that I love, that our love bordered on a need,
not greed, so I am sending, from a catalog from Texas,
some smoked meats to Vermont, sweets,
from San Francisco to Duluth, floor mats, taupe,
for a Lexus, vermouth from someplace to someplace else,
hoping, against hope, that your order is filled,
your stomach is filled, your wishes fulfilled,
you’ll love me still, for a while, and hoping, too,
for something in return; things not returned, spurned,
things not carried by truck: a good thought, luck,
oh-you-shouldn’t-have but, really, you must send hope
on wings of a dream, or a joke, a smile
on wisps of blue smoke; make it worthwhile.
I have not forgotten -
too much; not forgotten you . . . your style.

~Ralph Murre

old poem;

new drawing

Monday, December 14, 2009


I have, at long last, found a solution to the problem posed by the ocean of debt which engulfs our nation. Thanks for waiting. It turns out, according to numerous emails which I receive every day, that I have won a great many lotteries and have vast sums of money ready to be deposited to my account from people around the world who are just looking for ways to send funds to the U.S. ! By my cursory calculations, I believe that I, alone, am due several billions of dollars and/or pounds sterling. Am I alone in my willingness to give a good bit of this to the good old U.S.A.? I'll bet not. I'll bet there are many Righteous Americans, like myself, who would gladly receive all those funds which have been promised us, much of which seems to come from Africa (?), and give, perhaps as much as 50% to our government to help get us through this national crisis.
What do you say? How much of your spam money is simply lying there, mouldering in some foreign account, because you haven't been able to think how you might use the extra cash? Do your bit for your country, my fellow Americans! By the way, if you have trouble figuring out exactly how to direct these funds, due to the complexities of our vast government, just send them here and I will certainly assist.

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Thursday, December 03, 2009

perhaps . . .

perhaps just our luck
that brought us this one condor
beyond its season
~ arem

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

November / December

In this grey season and latitude, any reason will suffice to find some nice bit of color. Duller days yet may follow, but I'll allow some piece of brighter hue to bring a lighter side of me to you. And next time, I'll try to do without the crime of some childish rhyme or platitude. ~ RM