PRELUDE & FUGUE 31/

a turtle sniffs
a box turtle shell
of blue spotted turtles

*   *   *

life out of a silly overnight bag
is getting me disoriented as much as sleeping
peasants with Mrs. Kerry form a turtle shell squall line

behind golden marsh hay, life out of a silly
overnight bag is disorienting
the sleeping peasants with Mrs. Kerry on a turtle shell

a squall line behind golden marsh hay life
out of a silly overnight bag has me disoriented
with sleeping peasants or Mrs. Kerry

on a turtle shell squall line behind golden marsh hay

waiting to dive to the river woven into a pouch
a turtle sniffs a petroglyph figure squall line
of blue spots painted on sunglasses

with slumber waiting to dive to the river
a petroglyph figures sunglasses woven into a pouch
are a squall line sleeping with the turtle

sniffing blue spots painted into waiting
that dives to the river petroglyph figure
sleeping behind sunglasses in a box

woven into a pouch a turtle sniffs
the awaited dive to the river
squall line of blue spots

paints a petroglyph figure on sunglasses
woven into a pouch with a squall line
of sleeping blue turtles sniffing a spotted box

~*~

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.

PRELUDE & FUGUE 38/

 

in a salt marsh
in a lush gorge
against a glacier

*   *   *

at sunrise twelve horses
set out far below
a totem pole at sunrise in a salt marsh

horses set out below a totem pole
of twelve waterfowl trumpeting

at sunrise, yes, twelve horses
set out far below waterfowl
in a salt marsh

graze for yourself in a lush gorge
the agenda opens rhododendron
or a bald eagle on ash-covered slope

growling, yes, rhododendron openly graze
in a lush gorge under the bald eagle
the agenda of fish covering a slope

there, the rhododendron blooms
growl in the lush night, in its  gorge
the agenda you graze, hovering

no bald eagle on ash-covered slope
growls its agenda on ash-covered
rhododendron grazing into night

~*~

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.

PRELUDE & FUGUE 41/

in the dune of the black-eyed Susan
a schedule diametrically opposed to my own

*   *   *

a stargazer adjusts a pile of broken
shell and black-eyed Susan polished by sea-spray

in the dune behind an urchin
adjusting broken shell, the black-eyed Susan

polished by mist, the blanched dune
kelp adjusting a pile of broken shell

and black-eyed Susan polished
by surf sweeping along the dune

an astronomer adjusts a schedule diametrically opposed
to purple shoreline in the type case of shells and dull-edged
glass where my own pile of green stones in the box of shells
pile up a schedule diametrically opposed to dull-edged glass
the purple astronomer adjusts the typeface in case
shoreline shells pile his green-stone telescope somehow
diametrically opposed to any heavenly schedule he attempts
tuning the dull-edged glass of  my own type case of shells
piles in a schedule diametrically opposed to dull-edged
green stones along shoreline where I’ve set my own telescope

~*~

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.

PRELUDE & FUGUE 42/

ceramic dragon as a weed patch with teeth

you, me, it

don’t forget the oyster crackers

*   *   *

the repose of an attic ceramic dragon
papered in autumn foliage of a white T-shirt
and four blue candles caps a corner mattress
with weeds and a sequoia the attic room reposes
in a white T-shirt, a blue cap feeds on a corner mattress
the tile dragon ignites four candles with weeds
a sequoia papers autumn foliage over the reposing feed
that rooms in a white T-shirt and blue feed cap

a repairman walks past a weed patch
with teeth in white shorts

climbing a gray windmill two people
walk past as weeds with teeth patch

white shorts on two people climbing
a gray windmill repairman walks past

two people in white shorts and gray
windmill teeth climb a weed patch

in a corner in a weed mattress and sequoia
four candles won’t forget the oyster crackers
nor tile ceramic dragon papered in autumn foliage
all the repose of an attic room of four candles fed
a white T-shirt and blue feed cap a mattress
corners a tile ceramic dragon with weeds
and a sequoia papered in autumn foliage feed
don’t forget the oyster crackers atop four candles

~*~

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.

PRELUDE & FUGUE 47 /

beach umbrellas at the foot of the sagging pier, forever
towels wrapped in ribbons on a sandstone floor

*   *   *

don’t know this beach as a sandstone floor
how long a floor measures good fortune
wrapped in sandstone ribbon
this beach a long floor
doesn’t good fortune wrap itself in ribbon
knowing this how long
a good beach wrapped sandy fortune

kiss my face running with
new black Eagle purity at the soapy foot
of umbrellas she’ll kiss my

pure soapy Eagle face
while umbrellas run with new black
at her foot I’ll kiss this

new black soap opening
umbrellas forever facing
my Eagle kiss in the foot run pure

soap face Eagle
umbrellas run at the foot
forever new black

~*~

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.

 

ALONG WITH HIGH STYLE

Rouge on lips or toenails, the glimmer of gold jewelry or a gemstone, the glossy photograph or the slick magazine, the light in a drop of costly perfume, the shimmer in a particular weave or pattern of spectacular cloth, or the haute (hoity-toity) air of a trendy boutique: each reflects eternal desires and feminine intrigue. The interplay of status-seeking, gamesmanship, the swift-changing hunt, and the theater of fashion spreads out far from its urban epicenters – and crosses nations, languages, continents, and ages. How quickly a little girl insists on her own definitive style! The poet and poetry are not immune, either, infused with their own tastes and passions. Where a dictionary observes  gloss as “the luster or sheen of a polished surface,” there is also the danger of “a deceptive or superficial appearance” as well as “an effort to hide or attempt to hide (errors, defects, etc.).” Still, a gloss may also attempt to interpret or translate. The curve or the motion, the smile or the gaze, skin itself, or hair in sunlight or moonlight, each concealing while hinting of revelations. So often, awaiting next month’s editions.

These are the poems that conclude my newest collection, Foreign Exchange.

~*~

Foreign Exchange
Foreign Exchange

For these poems and more, visit Thistle/Flinch editions.

COLONIAL LINES

Facing the street ...
Facing the street …

Novelist Sarah Orne Jewett (1849-1909) was born in this 1774 house owned by her grandparents, which she would inherit from them. The site, sitting in the heart of South Berwick, Maine, just a few miles from us, is now owned by Historic New England and open to the public.

Like many New England houses, additions have kept growing to the original structure.
Like many New England houses, additions have kept growing to the original structure.

PRELUDE & FUGUE 29/

such a beautifully speckled trout
balancing on its head

*   *   *

n June
swirling
a long fish
a fish as long as the boy

a boy balancing a large fish on his head
in June swirling a long fish

a fish as long as the boy
a boy balancing a large fish on his head in June
swirling

a long fish as long as the boy
balancing a large fish on his head

red, yellow, blue, and green
under a decorative fish such a beautifully
speckled trout of a man running
back with quahogs and a tan Beyond Frog Hollow
tours halibut? red, yellow, blue, and green
man running tours under a decorative
fish back with quahogs and a tan
halibut? such a beautifully speckled trout
Beyond Frog Hollow red, yellow, blue, and green
a man running tours of halibut?
I really do need to get to know fish:
how to identify them under a decorative
beautifully speckled trout
red, yellow, blue, and green back with quahogs
and a tan Beyond Frog Hollow man runs
tours under decorative quahogs and a tan halibut or
such beautifully speckled trout Beyond Frog Hollow
I really do need to identify

~*~

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.

PRELUDE & FUGUE 39/

a dingy moored on still water
dancing to Bix tonight
in front of the boulder and island

*   *   *

in front of the boulder and island
moored on still water
spires, houses, and the brick millyard
red between granite

a dingy in front of the boulder and island
moored on still water spires,
houses, and the brick millyard

red between granite
a dingy
in front of the boulder and island
moored on still water

spires, houses, and the brick millyard
red between granite
a dingy

dancing to Bix tonight in a blue lake
against mountains reflected foliage
along a green river moose drab
on a sandbar amid dancing to Bix
tonight foliage along a green river
in a blue lake against mountains moose
amid reflected sallow dancing tonight
foliage along a green river, Bix on a sandbar
looking down from the hill in blue
lake against mountains dancing
to Bix tonight moose dun foliage along
a green river sandbar in blue mountains
against moose reflections looking down the hill

~*~

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.

HOT TUB ORACLE

I never intended to live there as long as I did, in the rented townhouse in what I sometimes called Yuppieville on the Mountain. But it must have suited me during that decade of waiting and searching, my anticipating true love and a long-desired relocation into permanence. Besides, it was convenient to the office. Admittedly, I enjoyed using the whirlpool in the clubhouse, soaking in the hot water while watching snowflakes drift down on the other side of the display windows; besides, at that time, the complex was still surrounded by woodlands. Lest it sound too idyllic, let me also acknowledge the dumpster parked beside my unit was frequently overflowing.

The poems in the resulting collection arise in that experience of transient proximity, which has become so much a part of the American landscape. The poems themselves are a kind of side street from other works I was drafting and revising during this time. Still, they make me examine what was right in front of me, all the same.

The series closes my collection, Rust and the Wound. To read the free ebook, click here.