downstream
meets the ocean
shortly
the way lovers
wash
before or after
rainfall
Copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To continue, click here.
Tag: Poetry
INVOCATION
Honor the frail onionskin
cast by the wayside where a snake
has rubbed its sleeve free
in the course of defenseless rebirth.
Protect me when regeneration
dictates some plaited hull to surrender.
Lead me through each forward motion
demanding we embrace fulfillment.
~*~
Teach me admiration
for these obstinate weeds
– their resolute profusion,
even when I pluck them.
Shield this garden
in its cultivated rows.
Restore our mislaid tools
in the morning grass.
Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full Green Repose collection, click here.
PRELUDE & FUGUE 43/
green drapes
the first week of leaf
before the coral color of cooked lobster
* * *
coral (stars) (in a buds of) still birches
(with the wind) an ocean of northern lights
divers (however) shamefaced
avoid the first leaf
draping some fancy coral (yet)
northern lights drape the stilled birches
shamefaced, avoiding some fancy ocean
frogman first
(as) the coral northern lights
leaf out, draping
some still sand bar
beyond fancy birches
(shelters) a roseate sea nymph
(at noon) divers are shamed
facing (her) (the one as fleeting as the) first leaf
or northern lights avoiding (possession) (capture)
(at midnight) hanging still (as) birches, divers
in their shame, avoid facing
(their) fancies, first leafing
(in the) still briny reef
lobster footwork
coming clear
the still green lobster
works its feet in coming
to the clear green
the rippling lobster foot
works clearly
in the coming
green
~*~
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.
GIDEON
1
in a beachside motel lacking
a Gideon’s Bible beside its saggy beds
it’s a mystery
just what else might be missing
I, for one, wouldn’t go looking
under the mattress
even at these off-season rates
2
off-season, an indolent tourist village
still awakens with Boston newspapers
rolled up on narrow sidewalks only
now most stores open about noon if at all
and workmen pound new yellow shakes
between weathered gray before the dew lifts
their rounds of hammering and rolling surf
repeat a brazen dance figure in a limited palette
of blue and nearly beige you could render
the clouded and sandy past overcut
and overgrazed
excepting the stooped plumes of wild grasses
3
an earlier Quaker dove pigment might
whet the salt-air and pepper mercies
appearing now
as two couples gleaning the beach
precisely as four aging women
once the gulls raise their aprons
4
tan sand, deep blue water
deep blue sky, touch of green
against the cliffs
gray houses or driftwood
deceptively peaceful
the lulling surf
surfcasters at dawn
wary of ferocity just below the horizon
or water’s surface
approaching the realms of Jezebel and Baal
Sunday dawn or sunset
matching the moon
(heart) breakers
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.
PSALM OF PSALMS
1
the tension
of the harp
and bow-string
in the poet-king’s hand
taking flight
in the air
* * *
how many Psalms
expressed the same anguish
and trial
in the glorious regime
* * *
how brief the interludes
between exile
2
the Psalms are poems
or the Psalms are prayers
as if I could define either
* * *
prayer is not what I speak
but what my Deeper Self would utter
despite me
* * *
raise my shield, O Lord,
regardless of the outcome, and lift me
there’s nothing easy about love
3
New Zion
originally, Bible stories were chanted
rather than read and dissected in the rabbinical twist
hardened into bronze
even in daily devotion
in this quest of salvation
facing Jerusalem
tiring of the routine exile
where’s my power in this place?
my heart, ever so uneasy
* * *
patriots say Peace but mean Victory:
which is hardly the same outcome
or means
festering and darkening
drumbeats summoned
into crowds cheering
uniforms
or invoking the Holy One
the Prince of Peace
to their cause
* * *
even communion tokens
from Colonial-era steeplehouses
witness the contrast to our free-Gospel ministry
with their families, subscribing to box seats
squirming in this theater of pipes
so who exchanged coins
for their purity?
truly, how do you pay
with the psalter?
holy, holy, holy
in a constant delving for treasures
where others see nothing of value
from whom all blessings flow
over each stretch of turmoil
* * *
how many strands of history
and sojourn
converge on me
as I’m walking in prayer
and softly humming
a funeral hymn for comfort
some October night
shivery petals shall upend
a row of headstones, too
called to the cause of justice
4
counterpoint originates
in the descant over the cantus firmus
or maybe drumming
or the sound of feet dancing
or even droning under the chant
in the conflicted lines
of desire and pain
in the hideous bleeding wrists
and ankles
* * *
O Holy One
contrary to the ancient discipline
I country dance
and sing harmony
to once again crack the thick shell
I build around me
“in the gift of life is also the gift of time”
time, as a signature
for music
for the dance
O Holy One
bless the Singers’ Table
with its poets and musicians
free in the present
free in unity with the Holy Spirit
free in the disciplines we embrace
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set, click here.
REHASH
the return of the Princess Wen-Chi
400 years later I understand it wasn’t
my fault we never connected
but the hardness she’d become
with the curtain already up
when the lights took hold
unicorn and gazelle in repose
too weird, too impractical, too brash, too arrogant
hypodermic syringe on a porcelain teacup
favorite hardware
goof balls, golf balls
perhaps annoy or anger, delight
and so on and on. It never ends, does it?
above the treetops
astrologers, even witches
but mostly the aroma of freshly cut grass
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of Partitas, click here.
TAKING HOLD, AS A VENTURE
I’m not that young, even to be this foolish
and this time, a month of rainfall starts
with fireworks, of course, viewed from our second-floor deck
before consulting a plumber about a bathroom
and heating for the barn
or a boiler replacement in our cellar, connecting
natural-gas appliances and restoring the downstairs toilet
and shower to use in a house
before drafting radical views of both the Garden of Eden
and Gethsemane and then the doctrine of Inward Light
alas, by year’s end, both would flower to book length
or, should I say, all? this time around, getting serious
as connecting the dots in a seedbed
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.
ROLLING WITH WHALES
on the way out, a fifty-year-old shrimper from Louisiana –
originally from Gloucester, where he’s visiting his sister –
tells of the Gulf’s particular brutality
how crews typically go out twelve days
till the hull is full . his boat with three Rolls-Royce
engines so loud harborside residents complained
he hesitated to open full throttle
unless the water’s churning was especially rough
rocking at the jetty-mouth sandbar
like Canobie Lake’s pirate ship ride
three delighted school groups shriek
when we top twenty-one knots – his boat, twenty-three
yet his went down / couldn’t salvage any gear
lost two crewmen with him five years
he himself now limps
wounded in the knee by a barracuda,
and it’s not healing right . he hobbles along
with a cane, wondering if it’s time to quit
the shrimping in his blood
run an excursion boat instead
“and you, sir?”
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.
PRELUDE & FUGUE 24/
there, in thick grass beside a slow stream
a Jersey heifer
wears telescope goggles to observe
a bragging rival
* * *
one with horns turns
to observe the huddled two Holsteins
wait for grain
three in thick grass beside a slow stream
four in a high meadow
four on a green slope, still
a Jersey heifer, a bragging rival with horns
turns to the huddled dairy cows awaiting
grain
three in thick grass beside a slow stream
four brown in a high meadow
along a green slope
a Jersey heifer wears telescope goggles
to observe a bragging rival
with long horns turns
the dairy cows, huddle, waiting
for grain beside a slow stream
and the high green meadow
the inertia, meanwhile, is extraordinary
waiting, huddling, bragging rival
mooing, with horns
turning to observe the inertia
meanwhile, a Jersey heifer wears telescope goggles
to stalk a bragging rival
four brown cattle in a high meadow
four on a green slope
two Holsteins waiting for grain
three in thick grass beside a slow stream
the inertia, meanwhile, is
brown, green, mooing, bragging
the wait for grain
huddled beside a slow stream mooing
in the inertia
meanwhile, a Jersey heifer wears telescope goggles
to observe another cow, its bragging
“meow”
~*~
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.
YANKEE
1
don’t presume the ocean is smiling
or the gulls enchant
the spire warns you
especially in New England
to step
back from the wreckage
or unexpected nor’easter
2
gales and furies
sweep up and disappear within hours
behind placid indifference
raise public duty
expense and craftsmanship
defining coastline
signatures, on the dotted line
in the clearest conditions
3
pointer / referent / rhythm of light / solitude or
loneliness / romantic illusion / high-maintenance history
lightening bolt / flicker / flare / discharge
beer can or wine bottle uncorking or blowing its cork
tourist magnet / spike / whistle, horn, upturned bell
observatory / night madness / memorial / first end of the sea
fist of defiance / ordered rock on rocks / spiral staircase to sky
to the horizon / a hollow tube / a composition of lenses
slivers of glass / slivers of crystal / a glass circle carousel
a hermitage / pigeon roost / billboard / thumbtack
anchored ship’s bridge / silver cup tilting / upraised finger
4
Boon Island, flashing white every five seconds
projects nineteen miles out to sea
Goat, faintly to the north
to the south
White Island, out in the Shoals
and Whaleback, would be double white flashes every ten seconds
just over the trees
way off, Thacher Island Twin Lights
(aka Cape Ann Lights or Rockport, Mass.)
project seventeen, but viewed from up on rock
at Nubble, some extra distance
on a rare night
of calm
antiquity
joining the squat red beam
and strobe flash
each one
proclaiming liberty
over any face of oppression
the tyrant sea offers
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.
Jnana's Red Barn 