the stars

bitter

taking a bite
from a bitter orange 一 月の解けしオレンジ味苦し
january thaw










translation: Hidenori Hiruta

whheeeww

iam Soen'.. she kicked this off the cliff
that lingers in my mind, too afraid to go near
and that's when I stepped off the edge

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xxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxx one month solve orange taste suffer {sigh}

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Red Dragonfly

at first, it flits to my Mother
then swerves, toward Father and me
is this my death poem, Red Dragonfly?

direction: tanka

the winter sun
how it wanes the will, our purpose
its shadows lengthened
make a river ice and boundless snow
for flights of birds, one direction

wattle pods

Luna Park

in the evening lull -
a crescent wanes
over Luna Park

blue geese

I offer her
my last Pall Mall
blue geese over Fujisawa











Navy Island on the Mississippi
January 11, 2010 10 below O [f]




first appeared in Resonance 9

sturgeon: tanka

the largest sturgeon
once more it gently rises
to peer through dark and ice
grey as stealth it crept right in
the solstice on this morning

tin cardinal: cirku

one tin cardinal
silent as the solstice day -
geese paused in flight

a seven tone renku poem

.







'No instrument is humble, if it works.'
KB

'See you in the darkness.'
Gary Gilmore

I can do anything. In GQ I appeared as a man.'
Boy George

I wanted to be a plumber.'
Robert Goulet

Be the change you want the world to become.'
Mohandas Gandhi

'Deep down I'm pretty superficial.'
Ava Gardner

'what would a monkey do?'
bandit







for Karin
.

Carl Bernstein

Winter withering --
I wonder if Carl Bernstein
knits his own ties?

Stratocumulus

Stratocumulus
each bird, one to the next,
motionless in flight

La Marseillaise July 2018

her perfect teeth
prominently on display
La Marseillaise

salesman

photo: Michael Larkin; St. Paul



Nakashian O'Neill comes to mind ... Downtown St. Paul, prominently, at 5th and St. Peter, to be precise. Met a gent there, of slight build and an impeccable taste, with that truly apparent Designer's bent. Could this have been Mr. O'Neill of the refined and inquiring eye?

I'd arrived before Christmas in search of blown glass ornaments for the tree. A year or three along and we'd struck up a banter of sorts, after my initial appearance in muddy work togs, like most thereafter, at the end of a day laboring in some new tenant space high aloft some tall building or other that dotted the precipitous skyline.

Once, our conversation having jogged some memory, he went into the back and after a moment's rummaging returned promptly to produce some near forgotten treasures. Bavarian pieces, he'd purchased them on a trip to the Continent, as he graciously explained, with glass elaborations in floral design delicate as a first Confession.

i have them still, a set of three, and 300 or so other pieces from various origins, all fine glass, collected over a lifetime.

One Hell of a salesman, O'Neill ...




a merry jingle
From the street front door ...
fresh snow is falling