June 22nd, 2014
A Foreigner
A woman asked
me one day,
Which is the most
local
She was talking about coffee
I looked at her
and said
It's coffee
It comes from
far away. In burlap
bags on ships
in crates
It is picked
by people who
speak different
languages, dialects
in three different places
in the world
wholly different from
where I live
There is no way
for coffee to be
local
it is by nature foreign
We buy a cup
of coffee from
a small local shop
and feel good
but only the people
at the shop
are the locals
the coffee has seen the world
More of the world
than myself
More of the world
than I will probably ever see.
So my coffee
that I drink this morning
is well traveled and
truly a foreigner.
Sunday, June 22, 2014
Sunday, June 1, 2014
June 1, 2014
A delight, I watched with Lisa and Jack the movie version of Red Rackham's Treasure. A Tintin adventure I first read as a young boy. I was never much of a comic book kid, and the idea of the graphic novel was still really in the future but these illustrated stories, sort of a comic book story hardbound and over sized were exciting to read. Captain Haddock was always swearing in his own way "Billions of Blistering Barnacles!!!" and Tintin knew how to take care of himself, often wielding a small handgun but never actually killing anyone. Thompson and Thomson bungled along and the professor always misheard everything anyone said.
It is a pleasure remembering these books. Tintin also helped me on my trip to Paris back in 1990. While visiting some booksellers on the bank of the Seine Lisa and I stumbled upon a Herge book of Tintin in the original French. I sat on the train to Nice and painstakingly read every panel, translating and getting a handle on the French I'd learned five years earlier in high school. By the time we got to Nice I had a decent handle on the language and could make reservations, order food, and read the signs in the streets and back in Paris in the Metro.
Tintin, Quelle un adventure.
A delight, I watched with Lisa and Jack the movie version of Red Rackham's Treasure. A Tintin adventure I first read as a young boy. I was never much of a comic book kid, and the idea of the graphic novel was still really in the future but these illustrated stories, sort of a comic book story hardbound and over sized were exciting to read. Captain Haddock was always swearing in his own way "Billions of Blistering Barnacles!!!" and Tintin knew how to take care of himself, often wielding a small handgun but never actually killing anyone. Thompson and Thomson bungled along and the professor always misheard everything anyone said.
It is a pleasure remembering these books. Tintin also helped me on my trip to Paris back in 1990. While visiting some booksellers on the bank of the Seine Lisa and I stumbled upon a Herge book of Tintin in the original French. I sat on the train to Nice and painstakingly read every panel, translating and getting a handle on the French I'd learned five years earlier in high school. By the time we got to Nice I had a decent handle on the language and could make reservations, order food, and read the signs in the streets and back in Paris in the Metro.
Tintin, Quelle un adventure.
Friday, May 30, 2014
May 30th, 2014
Smoke
Sitting on a
friends deck, chatting
easily about little
things, big things
weddings and islands
and what is happening
at work and not
what is coming up
the smoke from the fire
the kids made
sifting over us and
getting into our hair, clothes
my glass briefly
hides the smell of smoke
while I breathe the
breath of hops
I look out and see the sparks
that still glow and
I can hear the kids
but cannot see them
As they run pell
mell through the yard
miraculously missing
the fire pit and the new hole.
Smoke
Sitting on a
friends deck, chatting
easily about little
things, big things
weddings and islands
and what is happening
at work and not
what is coming up
the smoke from the fire
the kids made
sifting over us and
getting into our hair, clothes
my glass briefly
hides the smell of smoke
while I breathe the
breath of hops
I look out and see the sparks
that still glow and
I can hear the kids
but cannot see them
As they run pell
mell through the yard
miraculously missing
the fire pit and the new hole.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
May 29th, 2014
shade of brown
A shade of brown
dark almost black
eyes looking
my love
you lose me
in those eyes
a dark pool
without end
into which I fell
so long ago
on that night
late into the night
now my son
the same eyes
quiet brooding
echoing your look
a chink in my armor
a crack in my facade
a shade of brown
dark almost night
eyes looking down
shade of brown
A shade of brown
dark almost black
eyes looking
my love
you lose me
in those eyes
a dark pool
without end
into which I fell
so long ago
on that night
late into the night
now my son
the same eyes
quiet brooding
echoing your look
a chink in my armor
a crack in my facade
a shade of brown
dark almost night
eyes looking down
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
guns and idiots
My guns
my rights
he screams
the bullets
fly by like bees
stopping the screams
You can't take
my rights my guns
2nd amendment
he turns
just like death
staring coldly
the government
wants to take
my guns!
his finger tenses
he pulls against
the spring
I need to
protect myself
against the foreigners
the bullets
fly out like a swarm
stopping the screams
As he stands
proudly holding
a gun designed
the screams
are quiet and
the blood is so red
a gun designed
only to kill
other human beings
Two men
one screams about his rights
one doesn't scream at all
he just uses the gun
for it's only purpose
to kill
My guns
my rights
he screams
the bullets
fly by like bees
stopping the screams
You can't take
my rights my guns
2nd amendment
he turns
just like death
staring coldly
the government
wants to take
my guns!
his finger tenses
he pulls against
the spring
I need to
protect myself
against the foreigners
the bullets
fly out like a swarm
stopping the screams
As he stands
proudly holding
a gun designed
the screams
are quiet and
the blood is so red
a gun designed
only to kill
other human beings
Two men
one screams about his rights
one doesn't scream at all
he just uses the gun
for it's only purpose
to kill
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Terror deep
we sleep guarded
waiting for the word
that it has come
The missiles
make no noise
sliding through the sky
dropping on our heads
Terror keeps
we sleep guarded
waiting for the flash
that tells they did it
Someone’s decision
and then we pray
to whatever we believe
as we wait for it
Terror sleeps
we wait guarded
waiting for the word
that someone slipped
We wait for the
day after
the day
that everything has changed
Terror creeps
we stand guarded
facing East, West
North and South
The skin peeling back
the nausea
that tells us that the poison
is in our blood
Terror peeps
out from behind our knees
letting us know
that it is still there
No bomb shelter
will seal this out
no magic pill
will make this go away
We just wait
but Terror doesn’t
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