Tuesday, August 28, 2012

water's edge

long in its cradle
a weathered boat on the hard
a weathered sailor-man
on a green-painted bench
red sun in the west

~ arem

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Brief Article

found on the web, artist unknown

A Brief Article on Articles in Haiku
by Ralph Murre
(in response to a question raised by CX Dillhunt)

in the poem   the short-
est of the shortest short poems
is there room for the

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Ides of August

end-of-summer sky
we call out names of those stars
close enough to hear

~ arem

Thursday, August 09, 2012

Fishermen and Poets

Against the Wall 

Like the beaded-pine wainscot
of his backwoods tavern, up north,
Clarence has darkened over the years,
hearing the lies of fishermen and poets;
the truths of hunters, fresh from the kill.
He’s been scarred by bar fights and carelessness, but
cleaned up and preserved by Irene,
who sees past his rough edges.

What’ll happen, he worries,
when the shot-and-a-beer woodsmen are gone,
when the kids want him to replace his old jukebox,
want him to replace the music of his life ?
Like his old paneling,
he may be replaced, too - by some modern miracle  -
shining and impervious.

Until then, he watches and listens;
soaking it up, gaining color - and
telling his stories under a flickering beer sign:
a bear in a canoe, going with the flow.

~ Ralph Murre

In looking at some old poems, I came across this one, written in 2004, and which appeared in my first collection, Crude Red Boat (Cross + Roads Press). There are a few from that era that I still like.