Dear readers,
Something has come up: I'm going to be out of town AND off email (and the Internet) for the next few months (probably no more than 3 months). When I return, I'll probably shift to sending out WEEKLY, instead of daily mailings. I leave tomorrow, will not have time to answer responses to these poems for a few months! Note: This hiatus is GOOD news for me, not trouble, just tricky because it came up suddenly. I'm not going to jail or to a hospital. I'm going to be taking some courses, rather intensively. As the terminator says, I'll be back.
If, during that time, you change e-mail addresses, please send the changes to my usual email, dblehert@verizon.net.
Here are a few bon voyage poems:
The dog crosses the road.
I say "Come back here!"
The dog doesn't seem to hear.
A car comes. NOW the dog
starts to cross back to me.
I yell, STAY!
The dog doesn't seem to hear.
The car halts for the dog,
who, eventually, toddles toward me,
then, sensing something is wrong,
stops just beyond my reach, head down,
eyes peering up at mine, then away,
beneath brows (tan against his black)
writhing with worry.
COME HERE! I say. The dog
doesn't seem to hear.
YOU COME HERE NOW! I scream.
The dog moves a squeamish step forward.
I lunge, catch his bright red collar and
(for his own good) swat his shoulder
hard...and again....
He ducks, cringes, looks up at me,
blinking, looks away. I feel bad.
I wonder if I should never have children.
Where did I go wrong?
[Note: Dogs are NOT defenseless against our onslaughts!]
_____________________
THE FUTILITY OF VIOLENCE
If I hit the dog in anger,
he cringes, striken, as if by plague
or poison. When forgiven,
he's my friend for life,
everything wagging at once...
but not more obedient.
I don't know what happens
when I hit the cat in anger:
She avoids me, gradually returns --
is that a resentful expression,
or has she always had that expression?
She gets even by not letting on,
and she snubs forgiveness,
turning away to lick herself.
_____________________
CAN ACTIONS BELIE BELIEF?
Relious beliefs solve a lack
of religious feelings, perceptions, certainties
and actions.
[Note: I suppose this poem is unfair, "belief" being so many things, but certainly one of the roles of "belief" is to provide a way to consider oneself religious in the absense of the other items.]
_____________________
DISTANCES MAY DECEIVE
A big mound of earth pops up before me
an arm's length from my face.
As I reach to touch it,
a tiny man on a tiny horse appears
between me and my mound,
and I discover I can reach for miles.
_____________________
ONE FOR ANY NEW YEAR'S EVE
Time to make our New Year's
dissolutions.
_____________________
STRANGER THAN WIFE EXPERIENCE
Happiness is waking up
beside a fascinating stranger
and it's my wife.
_____________________
AND ENUP SHALL BE PLENTY!
When I wake, the space beside me
is where you are or are not.
That's it,
in a nuptial.
[Note: The pun is on the phrase, "That's it in a nut shell"--from, of all places, Hamlet. A hamlet is a little ham, and there's a little ham in all of us--and way too much pork.]
___________________________
HOW WE DO GO ON
Don't worry about death.
We can communicate without bodies,
without words,
as follows:
Dean Blehert
Blogs:
http://deanotations.blogspot.com (short poems)
http://dearreader08.blogspot.com (essays and longer poems)
New book (Deanotations, Volume 1) available at http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/deanotations-volume-one/4649669
WWW.BLEHERT.COM
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1 comment:
Dean,
Hurry back! We miss you.
Alan Eames
ClearConnectionLosAngeles.com
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