By Jack Brummet
Thursday, March 31, 2016
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Monday, March 28, 2016
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Friday, March 25, 2016
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Poem: Hold Together
By Jack Brummet
It is one ocean with many names
And into the ocean, sooner or later, flows
Every river, spring, raindrop, creek,
and swamp,
Every lake, lagoon, aquifer, mudpuddle, and pond,
Every snowflake, icicle, glacier, flood, bay, and teardrop.
It is one ocean with many names
And into the ocean, sooner or later, flows
Every lake, lagoon, aquifer, mudpuddle, and pond,
Every snowflake, icicle, glacier, flood, bay, and teardrop.
---o0o---
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Found poem created in The Poetry Generator [We confound fluorescent witches]
By Jack Brummet
We confound fluorescent witches near the virgin
The fun has died
Dark and glowing beyond the sea
You pull lustful devils below
And grind blue demons against the sky
Awaken, awaken! The evil was good:
Unsure, silent on the edge of the world
Down streets where guests
Look for landmarks while the snow falls
---o0o---
We confound fluorescent witches near the virgin
The fun has died
Dark and glowing beyond the sea
You pull lustful devils below
And grind blue demons against the sky
Awaken, awaken! The evil was good:
Unsure, silent on the edge of the world
Down streets where guests
Look for landmarks while the snow falls
---o0o---
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
Poem: The Islands from eight miles high
By Jack Brummet
Beneath
a chiseled frieze of cerulean blue
Islands recede into the water
To settle on the sea floor
Like an archipelago of Atlantises.
Islands come and go,
Bobbing up and bobbing down
Like lost corks
Drifting the seven seas,
Treading continents,
Islands recede into the water
To settle on the sea floor
Like an archipelago of Atlantises.
Islands come and go,
Bobbing up and bobbing down
Like lost corks
Drifting the seven seas,
Treading continents,
And the islands and straits.
They crest the waves
Beneath gathering clouds
As flocks of birds
Circumnavigate the globe,
Shuttling from landfall to landfall.
---o0o---
Monday, March 21, 2016
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Saturday, March 19, 2016
Friday, March 18, 2016
Thursday, March 17, 2016
28 Short Poems
Stealth
You think one
thing,
Say another,
And do a third.
_____________________
_____________________
The host and tenant lock
In benign equilibrium.
_____________________
Each valley followed by a slope.
Every going followed by a return.
_____________________
There is no relief without an ache,
And no virus without a host.
And no virus without a host.
_____________________
Bricks tumble into the moat.
The king's body hangs naked from the flagpole.
_____________________
For a fleeting moment
The condition for change exists.
_____________________
A roiling thunderstorm clears the air
Like Wyatt Earp's peacekeeper
_____________________
A bad beginning can be overcome
But a good end lasts forever
But a good end lasts forever
_____________________
When you strip away the stage flats, makeup, and costumes,
It’s all one story starring our private heroes and dreams.
_____________________
Resurrection
He was ready to live again
Even if living just meant running
To keep ahead of the ghosts.
Even if living just meant running
To keep ahead of the ghosts.
_____________________
It’s so still and calm
In the mosque,
You could hear a fly expire.
In the mosque,
You could hear a fly expire.
_____________________
The Marriage
Two tattered mannequins
Prop each other up
In the Salvation Army Store window
Prop each other up
In the Salvation Army Store window
_____________________
Gone Fishing
As the forests swamps and bones turn slowly to coal
The last pterodactyl
Soars overhead, calling for a friend.
The last pterodactyl
Soars overhead, calling for a friend.
_____________________
It's so quiet you hear
dust motes six feet up
bump in shafts of sunlight.
dust motes six feet up
bump in shafts of sunlight.
_____________________
Take the worst that could happen
And add two zeros.
And add two zeros.
_____________________
High fidelity clouds gather over
The tattered stage flats of a world on fire.
The tattered stage flats of a world on fire.
_____________________
It's Getting Crowded
We cover the earth with Venn Diagrams
As our steps bisect old steps.
_____________________
_____________________
The glass is not half-full
I saw our dreams disappear
Like a white pony
Over a low grassy hill.
_____________________
Like a white pony
Over a low grassy hill.
_____________________
The Golden Rule
Listen to the songbirds trill
But keep an eye
On the buzzard section.
But keep an eye
On the buzzard section.
_____________________
An orchard of salt pillars
Circles Gomorrah's ashes:
Lot's Wife had no name.
Circles Gomorrah's ashes:
Lot's Wife had no name.
_____________________
If I don’t write it down
The words race away
Like a hit and run driver
The words race away
Like a hit and run driver
_____________________
Your Wooden Leg
Run if you still can.
Drag that wooden leg behind you,
Drag that wooden leg behind you,
But keep up, jogging after your pipe-dream.
_____________________
Weather Report
Life is a raindrop
Sizzling as it skitters
Across the universal griddle.
Sizzling as it skitters
Across the universal griddle.
_____________________
"And after all, what is a lie? ’Tis but the truth in
masquerade"
The truth exists; the lie must be created.
_____________________
Waiting
There is no tomorrow
until we get through
the day after yesterday
_____________________
Possibilities
In your chest beats the heart of a Good Samaritan
Who never quite got off the starting blocks
_____________________
Torches & Pitchforks
The whole
Is far less than the sum
Of its parts
_____________________
Is far less than the sum
Of its parts
_____________________
Mission Statement
The Army has two duties—
To break things, and kill people;
Everything else is just fluff and overhead.
_____________________
_____________________
Dodgeball
We weave around and through
Unseen hazards and shoals,
Always feeling less safe
Always feeling less safe
Than we actually are.
_____________________
The Odds
Simple probability and statistics
Tell us ineluctably that the more times
You stick your head In the lion's mouth,
The more likely it is that one day he will close it.
Tell us ineluctably that the more times
You stick your head In the lion's mouth,
The more likely it is that one day he will close it.
_____________________
The Man In The Mirror
There's a civil
war in his head:
Lobe against lobe.
---o0o---
Lobe against lobe.
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
A windmill in Milwaukie, Oregon.
By Jack Brummet
Our cousins Andy and Allison have a windmill on their property in suburban Milwaukie [1], Oregon. It was originally farm country and the windmill was somehow grandfathered in when the property was later subdivided. . .
[1] Yes, that's actually how it is spelled.
Our cousins Andy and Allison have a windmill on their property in suburban Milwaukie [1], Oregon. It was originally farm country and the windmill was somehow grandfathered in when the property was later subdivided. . .
[1] Yes, that's actually how it is spelled.
---o0o---
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Monday, March 14, 2016
Sunday, March 13, 2016
Saturday, March 12, 2016
Slogging through Proust's "In Search Of Lost Time," a/k/a "Remembrance of Things Past"
By Jack Brummet
I am beginning the final volume (7) of Proust's Remembrance Of Things Past. 3,031 pages, and 1,267,069 words. It's has been beautiful and infuriating and puzzling at times. I'm glad I did this with our book club because I would have probably weaseled out otherwise. it is also pretty interesting to be in a book club with three philosophy professors, a lawyer, two cool and smart professional women - one of who is a philosopher too-and one knucklehead, yours truly. So, this sentence from book five is pretty typical, and illustrative of why this book is such a slog. It gets way more dense, but never more Hemingwayesque. I've found I need to read three other books between each Proust volume (with at least one of those being some trashy genre fiction) to cleanse the palate.
I am beginning the final volume (7) of Proust's Remembrance Of Things Past. 3,031 pages, and 1,267,069 words. It's has been beautiful and infuriating and puzzling at times. I'm glad I did this with our book club because I would have probably weaseled out otherwise. it is also pretty interesting to be in a book club with three philosophy professors, a lawyer, two cool and smart professional women - one of who is a philosopher too-and one knucklehead, yours truly. So, this sentence from book five is pretty typical, and illustrative of why this book is such a slog. It gets way more dense, but never more Hemingwayesque. I've found I need to read three other books between each Proust volume (with at least one of those being some trashy genre fiction) to cleanse the palate.
---o0o---
Friday, March 11, 2016
Thursday, March 10, 2016
Wednesday, March 09, 2016
Tuesday, March 08, 2016
Monday, March 07, 2016
Sunday, March 06, 2016
Saturday, March 05, 2016
Friday, March 04, 2016
Bowery & Delancey, NYC at the Bowery BMT Station, ca. 1978
Facing west at Bowery & Delancey #NYC in 1978. . .down the block from our loft at 181 Chrystie Street (from Dirty Old 1970's New York City). That's the Bowery BMT Station. Photo by Susan Beallor-Snyder.
---o0o---
Thursday, March 03, 2016
Chris Christie's winter of regret
By Jack Brummet, National Affairs Ed.
This quote is from a Chicago Tribune commentary yesterday on Chris Christie. They describe him standing behind Trump at his Tuesday victory speech:
This quote is from a Chicago Tribune commentary yesterday on Chris Christie. They describe him standing behind Trump at his Tuesday victory speech:
"He had the face of a man who has used his third wish and realized too late that 'may my family never starve' could be twisted to mean that the genie should murder his entire family."
---o0o---
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