Time Saver

Time Saver

A stitch in time – and then another
and pretty soon time is all sewn up;
holes patched with moments of distraction
and remnant ends of daydreams –
a catnap basted on over that rip
the vodka put in Saturday night –
a bit of needlework and dark thread
and the damned hole is darned
where some fool tried to save daylight.

Maybe there’s a way to reweave that tatter
you got crawling under the barbed wire
of religion’s prison-camp.
An immigrant sweat-shop sewing
fourteen hours a day might fashion
a garment to hide the amputation
of your high school years and,
if your timing’s right, you could mend
that time you tore from someone’s dream
when you wouldn’t believe.

Just you,
sitting on the calendar’s broad deck,
patching the sails of day after day
as the heave and the swell of
an ocean of years hisses by.

Just you,
putting another stitch in time.
Sewing a new watch-pocket
onto the long-legged
setting of the sun.

- Ralph Murre 2005

From Crude Red Boat, Cross + Roads Press

Don'tcha Ever Wonder About Dragons?

Ice Sculpture by Adrian Murre

Don'cha ever wonder about dragons up to their scaly knees in deep snow on Viking stavkirks, or dodging, in their serpentine way, the fireworks of a Shanghai parade, or gone all mossy somewhere in County Clare and the whole while trying to remain mythical as gods in science labs?

You have to wonder, don'tcha, about fire-breathing? About methane production and the chance of a spark before belching became boorish? About the odds of singeing a few ancients? I mean, you have to wonder, don'tcha?

And just because somebody finds their bones and calls them dinosaurs, doesn't mean you can't wonder.

- Ralph Murre

click on photo for detail

No Direction

no direction to the light

in this snowstorm in these woods

no strength for the shadow

no black for the crow

no color, but for this cardinal

balanced on a thin branch

- RM

something to crow about

I must say I like the flock I'm flying in over at

http://poetrydispatch.wordpress.com/2007/12/04/something-to-crow-about/

oh, yeah

Movie Time

Scenario for a Short Film

Storm clouds part
As skiffs and scows
Ply their trade
Dotting this northern port

Messengers, sailing
Shore to shore
Through veils of mist
Sometimes appear

A piano is moved
To a house on the hill
And played by four hands
Who know it well

Chords of harmony float
To weathered docks below
Where old men tend the ships
That carry their hearts

Sweet berries ripen
In the brambled thickets
Of the hidden
And sheltered coves

While some wait there
And understand
The things that drift in
From open waters beyond

Nightfall reveals
Sistine constellation
Of outstretched fingers
Almost touching and

Those who watch the sky
Shake their heads, for
This is not the season
For these stars

- Ralph Murre 2005

Entangled In The Web

Today, as one of my friends celebrates the second anniversary of her blog, another celebrates the second day of hers. I'm very proud to know both of these good women, and to include them in the links from this page.

Sharon Auberle, with whom I've shared several publications, (most notable on-line: "Poetry Dispatch") has just wrapped up two years worth of one of the most beautiful things I've found in the width of the w w w, Mimi's Golightly Cafe. Sharon is the author of four books of poetry, and is working on the next. She's also an amazing artist and photographer.

Julie Eger has just begun her blog, Jukota's Place, but has not, by any means, just begun to write. Her poetry and prose have appeared in a number of high quality journals and she is the deserving winner of several sought-after awards for her work. I am honored to share space with Julie in the anthology Other Voices (Cross + Roads Press, 2007). I foresee great things in her blog.

Stop by and visit both - links appear on the right.

- RM

Aw, Maisy

Aw, Maisy

How do I know you
when you change so fast,
when you grow right past
the little girl you were
when last I looked?
What sort of chef cooked
this bubbling kettle,
what metal can be worked this way,
what clay can smile and joke?
What flesh and blood from mine
brings a bloom to bud,
a flower opening over mud?
Is this the part where I
compare you to a bird about to fly?
Am I too late? Can a grandfather
ever state how happy and sad
are stirred inside when
a bouncing kid begins to glide?
Grow, my dear one.
Take a hug, friend; a kiss.
You can write the end of this,
I think. You can write the end.

- Grandpa Ralph

HOLD EVERYTHING!

Sad to say, we are cancelling tonight's Fond du Lac reading due to predicted foul weather, the loss of Mary D.'s voice, and the loss of an acquaintance in an accident on last night's slippery roads. We will try to reschedule for April 1st.

Stay home, do a little reading, do a little writing, hold someone you love.

- Ralph

Landscape

again

across those far hills

when too close closes in

again

- RM

Out There

It's all out there,
you just never know.

arem

Super Fat Tuesday

photo property of Mary Durlin

Since you've probably nothing better to do next Tuesday, February 5th at 7:00 PM (Mardi Gras, Super Tuesday and other trivial events can wait), why not milk the cows a little early, get your wierd old uncle to button his fly, and head over to the Windhover Center for the Arts at 51 Sheboygan Street in Fond du Lac, where I will have the distinct pleasure of joining the exceptional Mary Durlin as we read a bit of poetry? We'll start promptly at 7:00, read for 15 or 20 minutes, take a little break, rinse, lather, and repeat; after which there will be an open mike session. I think it'll be a good ride, Mary and I will be looking at some of the same topics from vantage points separated by most of two generations. Fun stuff, sad stuff, no master's degree required.

If you always swore you'd never go to a poetry reading - and I know who you are and where you live - you might want to reconsider.

- Ralph Murre

Translation, Traduccion, Ubersetzung

Because I have failed to learn even the most rudimentary bits of another language, and because I have friends and visitors from many nations, I have now installed Alta Vista's "Babel Fish" on this site. I'm sure many subtleties will be lost in translation, but it may come close. To try it, (and I don't know how the hell you've gotten this far if your English isn't at least as good as mine) scroll down the right column 'til you see their logo, and click on the flag of your choice. And wait. And eventually, Voila!, all this gibberish appears in another language. Ain't life great?

- Ralph Murre

They Told Us Never

In that long drift beside the county highway

and that cresting wave the length of the lake

and that look you have when I don't know

where you are, but I want to be there, too,

and in those trees at the top of the dune

they told us never to climb,

I know there's something hidden and waiting,

I know there's something I can't see yet,

the arc of it curving just beyond

the reach of my fingers,

like the stars on one of those nights

when the sky comes very close.

- Ralph Murre

Again with the Haiku?

this low flying flock

the color of dried beech leaves

hear their flapping wings

- arem

MLK, MKG, HDT

Today, let's take a little break from the colossal popularity contest of our primary elections to honor and reflect upon the lives and continuing influence of world leaders who were not elected to public office, but led by example. Martin Luther King, of course, who stirred the souls of so many, freely cited the example of Gandhi, who cited the influence of the writings of Thoreau.

While it is clear that the impact of these three men will continue to be felt for a very long time, and probably longer than that of many who have been elected to office, it is also becoming increasingly clear that the struggles they faced are not over. Increasingly clear that the only fitting way to show respect is not to set aside a "day" of honor, but to continue those struggles in every moment, in every thought, in every act of our lives. Too much to ask? Maybe, maybe.

Maybe they put themselves on the line imagining that injustice would end, but I doubt that any of the three were so naive. More likely, I think, that they knew they were asking us to be more than we think we are, to do more than we think we can.

- Ralph Murre

Dancing With The Tsars

Did you ever wonder about polka dancers? I mean, they're always happy and laughing, yet they tried to conquer the world - while tango dancers, who never crack a smile, failed to recapture even the Islas Malvinas. Look out for happy people - that is today's lesson, kids. That both of those dancing factions lost to the British, who appear not to dance at all, is a subject which will be taken up at another time.

- RM

When the Music is Right

Some day, she'll tango in red shoes,

she'll drink Malbec in low light,

swoon to heat stirred by a single fan.

And though tango dancers rarely smile,

perhaps she'll smile at me

in that way that lovers can,

dancing in red shoes

when the music is right.

- Ralph Murre

Weather Report

new snow on branches

for the dawn of this moment

a silence of crows

- arem

Luck

I guess no one-armed bandit

will hand it to me,

no red and black roulette

or last minute track-side bet

or ticket in the lottery

is likely to pay off, no play-off pool

is coming through, so far as I can see.

But I hear the owls at night,

there's sun and rain and starlight,

there's fruit and grain.

I think somewhere

they're playing our song.

And down at the harbor,

they're saying it won't be long

'til my ship comes in.

They're saying it won't be long.

- Ralph Murre