Tag: Poetry

PRELUDE & FUGUE 50/

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

sprawled on the floor, a barefoot bride without makeup

*   *   *

along with a martial arts master sprawled out
on the floor a barefoot bride without
makeup everyone you knew thought
it only a fragile joke and then

you pulled the trigger: blood runs
toward the tub drain what made you think
I had any clue what was afoot? martial arts student
sprawled out on the floor, a barefoot bride

without makeup, everyone thinking it only fragile
joke blood running toward the tub drain what
made you think I had any clue what was afoot?
a martial arts master sprawled out on the floor

a barefoot bride without makeup everyone you
knew thought it was only a fragile joke
blood runs toward the tub drain? what made you think
I had any clue what was afoot?

kick higher, kick higher
from the floor

~*~

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

ALWAYS SOMETHING

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

1

a decrepit mess / pit

put them away

a cat, a dog, an auto executioner
gone, finally, by dawn

desperate houses plunked down in rock face
where will everyone live?

2

Warren Farm’s disastrous pick-your-own corn experiment
DeMerritt Hill Farm now owned by New York City refugees
who need to make the mortgage

while I’ve planted

blueberries, raspberries, asparagus, pussy willow,
rosa rugosa
the laurel and rhododendron that didn’t survive
all mine, all the same, within some inexplicable current

3

gentleness versus meanness
anger (I’m angry all the time)

RITUAL
versus
SURPRISE

Wild Willy’s still closed on Sundays

To continue, click here.
Copyright 2015

 

STRAIGHT AND NARROW

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

there is much to admire in the unembellished line
when true

Squirrel, who would drive a crooked furrow
in a place where only the best horses
may be proud without sinning

has strayed much as a black bear past midnight
after the spring lambing

* * *

maybe he could have built a dairy herd
milked in a white-walled shed

given the right partner, who would not weep
over bank statements where the only green
would be choked with weeds

his life fenced in, a private Eden
stacked with moldy bales

to slip into rubber boots and shovel
his way back, behind him

* * *

but the scoutmaster was right
Squirrel’s not handy, that way

with wrenches or wiring
or even bent nails, much less

some ballgame or ice skates
no wonder the world was wide open

to the embroidery of his mind
when he had nothing to hold on to

these things shape one’s direction
as much as any opportunity

* * *

today’s American farmer
is a mechanic, electrician, carpenter,
accountant, designer before
the crops and herds matter

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of Home Maintenance poems, click here.

BUT THAT’S NOT EVERYTHING

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

in the median strip of Route 17 just north of Pennsylvania
Paula and I found a road map of Fayette County, Tennessee
“you wanna talk about getting lost?”

all these vehicles entering a busy traffic circle
are just a matter of shuffling cars . as the matron confided,
“Harry and I used to go down to Buffalo” to do this or do that

careening along curving roads, I saw the moon
swallowed and released over mountains . “she’s
a nice girl who does well in school, but that’s not everything”

or we could have just stopped at a
BAR DINING ROOM
flashing in orange and green neon

To continue, click here.
Copyright 2015

 

CAKEWALK

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

a trio of Asian dancers

a topless dancer in a red mask
squats with a white banner

a ring, as wholeness
allowing the hole
that opens opportunity

white laundry in autumn yellow

have enough for us, the good steward

tide marsh as a frosted tangle

the luxurious interior of a log cabin with plank floors and rag rugs

an old-fashioned downtown with springboard

harvester in corn surrounded by golden foliage

while I start

packing for the extremes
of Florida and Lake Michigan
in winter

after our first weekend
briefly, the duration of that leap

perchance a woman more serious than me
should be packing for

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of Partitas, click here.

MONTHLY, QUARTERLY, YEARLY

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

punctual attendance at Meeting for Business is important

as worship
for to love is finding work also

there unmasked, when failing
a shining model of uprightness
and moderation

this purposing of expectation
coming to befriend each other
in daily labor and dreaming

vigilant close labor with any who slight
the holy standard

purposing
a forgiving spirit cherished by the whole
to resume anew

aggregating strength
for individual tribulations
where you’d otherwise succumb

*   *   *

the old pendulum, tick-tock
causing more than one who attends
to sit on the far side of the unadorned room

and that’s their business

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set, click here.

PRELUDE & FUGUE 49/

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

to lovers who were never quite present

*   *   *

good-bye in the night who never were lovers
repeatedly saying good-bye in the night
who never were lovers repeatedly saying
good-bye in the present night who
never were tubercular contortions or squiggles
good-bye tubercular squiggles to lovers’ night
repeatedly saying never quite contortions
squiggles repeatedly saying good-bye
to lovers never quite tubercular night

~*~

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

DRIVING NAILS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

near the waterline, someone’s hammering
throughout the day, someone’s always
hammering

a staccato telegraph
of winter’s approach or gratitude
so little demands repair
or just some old goat’s survived

though when the hammering ceases
he may be eating a sandwich
or sawing a board to be hammered
yes, two taps secure its position

in the quiet, he’s
gone off to the supply house
for a another box of nails, another size
a door slams from another direction
where new hammering erupts

before the man puts his hammer down
on a leather tool belt
and then orders a beer

you’ll find boxes of hammering
in the tool shed, brown paper bags
of hammering in the mud room
old jars of hammering
on his truck bed

open any one
and his arm and shoulder
begin moving
the whole world as his anvil

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.

THE SOLACE OF FAMILIAR SPACES

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

richness / depth
discovery and a confession we don’t have it right, yet
as for a prescription, we’ll never have it exactly right
if we wanted surprise, we’d go someplace else
so by narrowing the focus, the unexpected twist appears

the asparagus bed or lilacs
my ferns, finally
eight springs at this dwelling

this repetition for greater completeness
complexity as a responsibility
within myself/yourself, too

a spouse rather than a lover alone

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN’S GRAND FUNERAL MARCH

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

a tight-cropped raccoon staring full of question

in the green leaves in front of an intricately tiled wall
a white panther spews water
into a pool of lilies

320 days a year you’d be hungry

an owl in snowfall

three landscapes, including a road through a desert

a smiling fisherman holds a salmon
the length of his leg

twelve neckties a father would love:
none of them fit for the office

roulette wheel with a ducky decoy
for games no player can win

egos as a blindfold
tied with leather work gloves

the pink smoke, uncoiling
wordlessly

shocks of wheat
around a woman in dream

two more windmills

half of the sky, a rusty eggshell

a flame
as an open door

a clock and classical portrait suspended on ribbon

wind mill manufacturers in Batavia, Illinois

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of Partitas, click here.