http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f?format=rss Tribe.net. Local Connections http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#48ea797d-995d-400d-b898-711f5ec33a00 wrote a couple today.. Untitled Hardy walls, evenly spaced. this place, it is marked by bricks, by brick lines, by the counting of bricks, 1 through 7, then 1 through 18, then more. Here, in humble dew, tears are sparsely wishing, through hesitated breath. Quiet, I feel it, A piece of it, it is on the wind. Hardy walls, evenly spaced. this place, marked by bricks, counts the creeping steps I have made, by days, by decades. I am made man by the etching the wind has made on my face. ++++++++++ and a fun little one Dog Dog Dog Lacey the dog has a dog belly. Gently round and cute, That belly is eternally adorable, Totally a-dog-able. She watches from her window, Guarding the neighborhood, Barking whenever I breach her territory, A good dog doing a good dog job. Lacey the dog, With her doggie belly, Doing her daily doggie work. Bringing empty face to full grinning teeth smile, Completely, fully and entirely, dog. Sat, 02 Jan 2010 21:22:30 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#48ea797d-995d-400d-b898-711f5ec33a00 Jon 2010-01-02T21:22:30Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#a2609a16-b4f9-4623-acc0-2ab934f8c0ec a poem-sketch.... that I would make an ancient Chinese painting's sky my home, with clouds, flying, soaring, become a watercolor. Wed, 09 Dec 2009 13:36:47 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#a2609a16-b4f9-4623-acc0-2ab934f8c0ec Jon 2009-12-09T13:36:47Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#9d72edd2-3584-4418-926e-7e89323fb24f poem-sketch (goes with pic in link below) sweet fresh cool blue meanders, addressing the rough-etched coast, sea and land, two friends talking with each other, the language of raw daily painted portraits, crisp glory. http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photos/best-pod-exquisite-earth.html Wed, 18 Nov 2009 05:23:26 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#9d72edd2-3584-4418-926e-7e89323fb24f Jon 2009-11-18T05:23:26Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#c79aef78-47a5-4f65-afeb-15dc6cc02a51 this one ain't really a poem, maybe a poem-sketch, stream of consciousness thingie.. the dead grassy stalks that stick up in my lungs fully asbestos asthma lollipops that lick blood softly, in terror, wheezing brain fried like to a twinkie all puffed up sugary empty nonsense (and fried too to make sure no brain stuff still works). I am the all-enemy, The Inverted Court Jestered clown, empty flailing nonsense, hopeless watered down nothing, goblin, demon, gremlin, loser, worthless. Every day my offering is one long embarrassing dance of utter stupidity. I am the glowing King of restless immaturity, with asthma sticks that lick - the waiting drops of blood. I am heresy In Death, consumed in it, Waiting, Defiant, ugly ogre breath grasping for maybe any semblance, maybe a strand left of a simple humanity.... and the war continues I am turned out, coat inside out, a full turncoat traitor to everything that could ever be good about life, human warmth, smiles and the decent hearty soup that nourishes. I am exiled, deserve every penny of the billion dollar pain in my eyes and limbs. Crushed and with ego flailing... Shiva's child within fully blazing lightning smile with Delight. Thu, 22 Oct 2009 22:36:47 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#c79aef78-47a5-4f65-afeb-15dc6cc02a51 Jon 2009-10-22T22:36:47Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#ab783431-49f6-4b1c-a8ed-cb9b2573ffc1 Autumn Homage The red shock orange, The shock orange-red, Leaves. Fall Maple, Shock red-orange leaves, By Hundreds! Hundreds of tiny flames to the Autumn sky, Light, A perfect funeral pyre's glory, Red and richer, and then reds, Orange and its steady place and peace, And orange and its subordinates, Hues, a memorial, All fine stark shock against the sky, Sky stops, bends around it, Autumn Homage. Wed, 23 Sep 2009 15:52:15 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#ab783431-49f6-4b1c-a8ed-cb9b2573ffc1 Jon 2009-09-23T15:52:15Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#844bbb2a-8e7a-439f-a264-b8bb130b59f8 well, in my case, two...my father and my step-father. I was raised by both. My mother remarried when I was only five. My father passed in 2000, my step-father in 2004. here's a poem I wrote for my father, based on how I think he viewed the birth of my brother (his first child): My World There I was, walking through the world, unknowing and unknown. And there I was, walking through the world, unknowing and unknown, and lost. It was, a windy day, As many days are windy days in New York City, in the 1950's, in the jewelry district. And I was walking through the world, unknowing and unknown, and all I had was nothing, and I was walking through the world, and it was a stark and cold and windy day. And there were many days, and many years, and many decades, walking through and seeking and grasping and wishing, and hoping and unknowing and unknown. And I was seeking and grasping, and walking through the world, unknowing and unknown. And then, it happened, You were born, gentle as a new lamb, beautiful beyond any gemstone I had ever seen. And my days of lost wandering, so quickly gone, my world, my treasure, my all, my purpose, you were my everything, gentle as a new lamb. The world found its center, the world found its meaning, and I was home, and I, at last, was home. And through the years I treasured you, wishing I could give you, everything and anything, and my all, if I even had that to give. My son, I am sorry that I must go, I love you and will always love you, my dear, dear son. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ My father was an interesting guy. Brilliant, jewelry designer. Classic depressive, (like me, apparently). Didn't tolerate any limitations very well...a big fan of the greats...whether it was Picasso, Beethoven, Shakespeare. He taught me a love of quality. Step-dad was a trip. Real character. Very funny. Life of the party kind of guy...gregarious, giving....also, well, pretty much a professionally talented gambler. Ran crap games at Fort Dix during WWII. When I got arrested in an anti-nuke protest in NYC in '79, I was afraid to tell Dad where I was. So I asked him to pick me up at 100 Center Street (the address of the jail). He goes, "100 Center St., eh?" knowing full well what it was. Then he told me the story. He was in a crap game. The whole game got arrested and put in a holding cell (at 100 Center Street). They were all completely bored. So, what did Dad and his buddies do? They bribed the guard for a pair of dice and kept the game going in the cell! Gotta love it.... They both taught me tons, were extremely caring and nice to me. I owe them both so so so so much. Rest in peace, Dads.....God grant you his rest and blessings. Mon, 22 Jun 2009 14:49:14 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#844bbb2a-8e7a-439f-a264-b8bb130b59f8 Jon 2009-06-22T14:49:14Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#b85fbb8d-78c2-4749-b4e0-0a5fb910e436 Blue Line Heralds Speak Etching Pieces Of The Sky Lightning Sky Batik (with photo below) http://www.moonraker.com.au/techni/lightning.jpg Sun, 07 Jun 2009 04:21:35 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#b85fbb8d-78c2-4749-b4e0-0a5fb910e436 Jon 2009-06-07T04:21:35Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#d6d945fd-5cd2-469e-9d67-5583822c8045 i appreciate this soooo much. thank u.... so beautiful and simple. it touches me deeply... moonlite musings ;^) a state of just being. Wed, 13 May 2009 03:39:45 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#d6d945fd-5cd2-469e-9d67-5583822c8045 memengwaa 2009-05-13T03:39:45Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#f9490060-9035-41a1-ac45-495e89736e2c gonna do these tonight, with some accompaniment... Who Can (ocarina notes) Down in South America What with the Toucan He can Sing the brightly colored forest What with lime green, pungent yellow Staring eyes Jimmy Durante nose... What with the Toucan Who can (ocarina notes) +++ a dogwood haiku (flute notes) Dogwood, White and Plum These Blossoms Like Open Palms White, Purple and Plum (flute notes) +++ and a comedy thing.... Hopping Lederhosen Poem done with a visual presentation of the hopping lederhosen - here's the link to see 'em: http://www.mcphee.com/items/11138.html and a You Tube Clip of them in action: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q6tfrDNZEmo By Jon xxxxxx with Lederhosenette L xxxx O Lederhosen! O O How much I love you, my lederhosen, O! You hop, therefore I like you. You hop, therefore I love you. I love you because of You, I love you for the You who you are. For you, are my hopping Lederhosen, And I love you. Sun, 03 May 2009 18:56:01 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#f9490060-9035-41a1-ac45-495e89736e2c Jon 2009-05-03T18:56:01Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#0520e08b-ea0d-4ef2-a8f6-324cc68bd6fb Dogwood, White And Plum These Blossoms Like Open Palms White, Purple And Plum Thu, 23 Apr 2009 11:18:46 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#0520e08b-ea0d-4ef2-a8f6-324cc68bd6fb Jon 2009-04-23T11:18:46Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#afad61c8-70aa-4b6b-ab74-3b5bef884e7f Snow Crystal Clear Gems These Cleverer Tinies Fractal Water Shapes http://pandasthumb.org/archives/images/snow/Diverse_snow_crystals_R.jpg Fri, 06 Mar 2009 11:12:36 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#afad61c8-70aa-4b6b-ab74-3b5bef884e7f Jon 2009-03-06T11:12:36Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#b0a4dc7a-79be-43e9-84b2-7ab544dc0e9b Suburban NJ Park In night, when the ripples that water makes, are pieces of silver, that my eyes buy, there, I was walking around a small lake with petals from planted trees moving in a slow breeze, a slow jazz piece, playing to and for any and everyone, there, with the water ripples accenting the play on the petals in the breeze, with some children walking near to me, with their new hopes and future dreams, there, stopping or lurking, like some spy looking in upon a life that was not granted to me, feral, and wanting in to the world of which I was not. there, I saw an egret in a tree! Odd white bird standing! In a tree! 20 feet off the ground and staring at me! Two strangers watching the mutual strangeness dance between us, each, saying to the other, "Hey, man, do you belong here?" And I smiled that quirky old man smile that you get when you are and when you know and your sandpaper thoughts and gravely voice meet the day the way the grandpas did, with their 1950's cigars and pot-bellies and rough-life-lived-eyes. And the egret, still staring at me, perfectly innocent eyes staring, wanting to know, what I was doing there... I had no answer as I walked on watching more silvered ripples play in the light on the suburban New Jersey pond, by the street lights, near the old movie theater, the fancy new ice cream shop and the town library where young mothers go, with life in their eyes and joy and hope and joy and hope for their children, precious diamond gems all, decorating the landscape with a forbidden beauty I watch from the distance of my staccato breath-halting lungs. ++++++++++ Hey dere... here's a new one... ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Suburban NJ Park In night, when the ripples that water makes, are pieces of silver, that my eyes buy, there, I was walking around a small lake with petals from planted trees moving in a slow breeze, a slow jazz piece, playing to and for any and everyone, there, with the water ripples accenting the play on the petals in the breeze, with some children walking near to me, with their new hopes and future dreams, there, stopping or lurking, like some spy looking in upon a life that was not granted to me, feral, and wanting in to the world of which I was not. there, I saw an egret in a tree! Odd white bird standing! In a tree! 20 feet off the ground and staring at me! Two strangers watching the mutual strangeness dance between us, each, saying to the other, "Hey, man, do you belong here?" And I smiled that quirky old man smile that you get when you are and when you know and your sandpaper thoughts and gravely voice meet the day the way the grandpas did, with their 1950's cigars and pot-bellies and rough-life-lived-eyes. And the egret, still staring at me, perfectly innocent eyes staring, wanting to know, what I was doing there... I had no answer as I walked on watching more silvered ripples play in the light on the suburban New Jersey pond, by the street lights, near the old movie theater, the fancy new ice cream shop and the town library where young mothers go, with life in their eyes and joy and hope and joy and hope for their children, precious diamond gems all, decorating the landscape with a forbidden beauty I watch from the distance of my staccato breath-halting lungs. Sat, 17 Jan 2009 12:04:21 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#b0a4dc7a-79be-43e9-84b2-7ab544dc0e9b Jon 2009-01-17T12:04:21Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#160cc440-c509-4825-81f4-e1c54c344d36 A New Frost Etches The Disappearing Valley Frozen Soft White Dew Tue, 04 Nov 2008 16:46:03 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#160cc440-c509-4825-81f4-e1c54c344d36 Jon 2008-11-04T16:46:03Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#107013bb-528a-4820-9cfe-9a7ed23392ec These Laughing Bones These laughing bones that dance with death, They call out, Barking like a lost soul, Hell-bent, And laughing about it. And laughing about it. And laughing about it. Like Nero or Caligula Like drunk Dionysus mocking bound brother Prometheus. Everything inverted. The calm, pleasantly smiling, ever nowhere. Sat, 18 Oct 2008 17:56:01 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#107013bb-528a-4820-9cfe-9a7ed23392ec Jon 2008-10-18T17:56:01Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#e2180609-08fb-4182-ba9b-3af587d66b10 9/11 Poem Crashing towers of steel and hopes and dreams and so so so so so sad. The tears of thousands, The tears of children, The fruits of violence and hate twisting metal like toys, Fire burning like some ancient hell and so so so so so sad. Crying for days and days afterward. In New Brunswick, NJ, waiting for a train. The man next to me stares straight ahead. Without looking up he says, "I've been to 40 funerals in the last two months." There is silence in the train station waiting room. Everyone knows what he means. Thu, 11 Sep 2008 11:05:44 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#e2180609-08fb-4182-ba9b-3af587d66b10 Jon 2008-09-11T11:05:44Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#dc20432e-a77a-4fb4-83b6-566372b2d421 thanks Rob... your profile says you are from England...did you ever get to see the Royal Shakespeare Company? (it is a dream of mine) have a good one, Jon Fri, 29 Aug 2008 15:10:42 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#dc20432e-a77a-4fb4-83b6-566372b2d421 Jon 2008-08-29T15:10:42Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#320602fb-dc0b-47b7-b400-1c8cb40668de the smell of must quite suits the dust, and blood should always bleed the red But on another note, I liked that piece, it spoke a resonance that struck my chord. Fri, 29 Aug 2008 05:59:20 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#320602fb-dc0b-47b7-b400-1c8cb40668de rob 2008-08-29T05:59:20Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#22d0b80f-4f6a-4bbe-96d5-6deae8ded620 smokey candlelight, I have always loved soft & bleeding reds, crumbling grey walls & dust. I open steel containers to reveal a minutiae of creeping, a better refinement of grumbling sloth, and pale thoughts of unrequited grasping. my reds sit, embers under dull soot. Thu, 28 Aug 2008 15:23:51 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#22d0b80f-4f6a-4bbe-96d5-6deae8ded620 Jon 2008-08-28T15:23:51Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#081d997e-e2ce-4c75-b9b3-38bce988f0a1 saw a moving program on AIDS, in Thailand. A young woman was raped at 12. The family ostracized her...later she married, had a child, then the husband left her. She had no one and no way to support the child and turned to prostitution...and caught AIDS...so tragic.... A Buddhist monastery opened an AIDS hospice and that is where they filmed the episode....so sad and so moving... my twisted limbs, torn in tear-drenched anger, who will sing for my dreams now? I will go to Heaven, And sing for my child, For his life. I am gone to the wispy clouds, leaving behind, this twisted soaked rag, draining tears. Sat, 09 Aug 2008 22:10:16 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#081d997e-e2ce-4c75-b9b3-38bce988f0a1 Jon 2008-08-09T22:10:16Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#a10d0a84-4abb-44bc-92c6-0c5cabca48c3 a little homage to Hotei (little link about him below:) http://www.101zenstories.com/index.php?story=12 Chinese Restaurant Buffet This Hotei, Thundering Heaven, Smile Like He Just Tasted The Sky, Drank it in full, And Laughed. This Hotei, Powerful Lofty Infinite Being, Gentle Heart of Gold. Loving Everything, Loving Like a Father, Like a Mother, Like your best ever memory of your very own Grandmother tenderly letting you lick the chocolate batter from the bowl she was mixing your favorite brownies in, just for you only for you touching your cheek just for you like that kind of love and backed by the transcendental power of Heaven itself all sky blue eye smiles and blanketing love till the tears well in your eye that gratitude could be such a welcome feast, there, as the door of love slightly opens and reminds you of what has always been Home. Wed, 06 Aug 2008 13:48:07 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#a10d0a84-4abb-44bc-92c6-0c5cabca48c3 Jon 2008-08-06T13:48:07Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#cea8ea31-cbc2-4cae-ba5d-a6a5259c86be a few haiku Vaulting Height Moon View White Grey, A Soft White Light Peace Blue Canopy Sky Sky Vast Vast High Height Tiny Black Dotted Sky Flight Wisps, Vaulted Power Super Blue Cool Dawn Movement Flashes The New Sky Dawn Calligraphy Fri, 01 Aug 2008 20:52:39 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#cea8ea31-cbc2-4cae-ba5d-a6a5259c86be Jon 2008-08-01T20:52:39Z http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#c52c6b4c-c530-4a7a-af89-e8a3f3848a31 Untitled If this were sunshine ink a poor excuse. I saw a cloud. worship. moon at dusk. hopeful widows. chestnut fires. beauty. and this, my auxiliary imagination, it jumps from here to there. Thu, 31 Jul 2008 15:05:48 GMT http://lisapoetry.tribe.net/thread/d3930731-d9f1-461b-a57f-60f61900214f#c52c6b4c-c530-4a7a-af89-e8a3f3848a31 Jon 2008-07-31T15:05:48Z