Sunday, June 30, 2013




Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Yes, the Moon in June

that moon there
and the poet
with nothing to say?

~ arem

just having a little fun with the new camera, some old software     ~ R.M.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

The Kid, The Old Man

photo: valerie murre-schlick, 1969

But what do you get the man who has nothing for Father's Day?  A son.  Received 15 June 1969, Father's Day that year, Morgan, my firstborn, and he, today, celebrating the holiday himself for the eighteenth time as the celebrated.  But for big, round glasses and a well-waxed handlebar moustache, he still looks about the same, though taller.  I'm shorter, fatter, balder.  Still proud of my kids, their kids.  Still getting accustomed to being The Old Man. 

Just a moment, now, to thank Arvin and Daniel and Cornelius and all those grandfathers' grandfathers back to Lieven Murre, born in 1630, and his grandfathers, whose names I do not know.

~ R.M.

Monday, June 10, 2013


In the part of town     staggering     toward some awaited gentrification
Al's Hamburger     doing the same thing since '34     with little applause I'll bet
no ovation     Not much change after the depression     the second war
There's a notice posted     high on the white wall     near the white ceiling

This is not
You don't get it your way.
You take it my way
or you don't get
the damn thing.

Hamburgers shall have onions fried or raw     that's the decree     Al's word is law
and that's O.K. with me

~ Ralph Murre

Friday, June 07, 2013

No Rush

How can it be 
that the first moose
in the wild I'd ever see
would appear
at that moment
I'd bought a new camera,
dropped in the power,
and installed the memory?

And how can it be
that the first moose
in the wild I'd ever see
had the time
in that forest
to stand and wait for me?
Had the moose nowhere
more important to be?

And didn't the moose
(and the muse)
deserve better poetry?

(of course you deserve better, too, but I had hoped maybe my first-ever moose photo would do)