to the glory of, et cetera
just keep singing
or moving your fingers
all these years, still floating
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of Partitas, click here.
Tag: Poetry
ROUNDED WITH LIGHT
rounded stones of the shoreline
or a garden path glisten
many navy blue or nearly straw
others speckled with indecision
speckled, within and without
what grows hard as rock on a rock
nearly black stones exposing white ridges
to the light, blue veins, like mothers
slate-blue orb cleft with white quartz
some color of cooked lobster
glow of berries
in dull eddies
of clamshell or snout of rising seal
given an eye, the face of a cod or shark
approaching with its mouth closed
another burnt
and still burning
none yet look like washed potatoes
between them, broken mussels and sand
firm in clear brine
each retaining its shape, for now
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.
BY UNINTENDED DESIGN
relocating
once again recognize
some possessions as useful
simplicity, sincerity, modesty, honesty, justice
that dwell in the Life and Power
when goods are tools
style arises within purpose
* * *
addressing basic practices
ordering well-made clothing
that’s both simple and expressive
and fits properly
liberates
from inbred feelings of victimization and deprivation
O Holy One
to choose what is not fickle
instills elegance
of clear function
I’m a sucker for clean, balanced design
outward expression of orderly life
gingerly facing the idolatry of things
made from metal, wood, stone
and yes, plastic
look, there’s nothing wasteful
O Holy One
elegant is also simple in design and execution
though not always easily accomplished
(the skillful hand and eye – the years of mastery)
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set, click here.
IN PLANNING FOR THE YEAR
Just what more do we need
in addition to the beginnings of two panels of ferns
behind the lilacs – my woodland mirror
or a blooming tepee with gourds and climbing beans
surrounded by zinnias for my Lady of Sunday Comics
in the heart of the exposed swamp
and the race to implant the kitchen-door garden …
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.
BY DAY, BY NIGHT
1
I admire a lighthouse more than a ship
without masts, as a qualifier
anchored in some upstanding foundation
I, who have roved the continent
and no further
gaze from the shore
or out, from the water,
to peer at each obelisk
instructing the coastline
yet masts, in open sail
could make this a wash
or a wish-list
2
I look in vain for a painting or photograph
of ocean only
always some shoreline
or ships – naval battle
conflict or simply
what attempts to bridle wild space
the lighthouse, as a genre, especially
countering the fabled variations of blue
at last, O’Keeffe’s large canvas of clouds and sky
comes closest
even more than her cross by the sea
3
costly as a ship
to construct and to run
this marker
of commerce, progression, and change
made obsolete, still
a warning as welcome
faithfully alludes to danger
in homecoming
a way around obstacle
a passage through the mouth
to safe landing
as much as the other abode
sailors justly dread
4
in daylight, a solitary standing figure
a sentinel
upright numeral one
a spire, a prayer
shrine, stupa
gravestone
defiantly erect penis
by night, its repetition
insisting
“Here! I’m here!”
as much as “Beware!”
in a tally of shipwreck
once with its whale oil and great lenses
arrayed on a crystalline comb
investment in life
such magnification
casting its spark
so far
this rock, uttering its expletive
to death
pinprick of light
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodso
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.
LEVIATHAN, AS AN EMBLEM
1
now to see
North Atlantic
in my sphere
landlocked
till twenty-eight
that week, camping tide-to-tide
beside North Pacific
and you speak of turning to Christ?
2
who found the eagle in the desert canyon
and high mountains
before the Upper Mississippi
or Great Falls of the Potomac?
still, moose fail to inspire me
as elk did
3
whales, then
rather than moose
in contrast to elk of the Yakima Valley
this mirror of historic economy
besides, moose and whales do not leave tracks
everywhere we trek here,
unlike the elk out west
to say nothing of ticks
4
water, defining land
defining water
and the overlap
I want to know what the ocean voices
in its repetition
addressing the absent moon
or distance, even in the erasure
bank of fog
curtain of resounding
fog horn or bell
or vast silence
before
the hundred thousand variations of nor’easter
just off this point
no need to circle the planet
we have our fill of floundering
agents of change
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.
LIVELIHOOD
Ants swarm over a sugar maple’s
spigot and sap bucket.
In earth and in air, green spirals
uncoil.
Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full Green Repose collection, click here.
Three sections from MOTET I
1
pick a language . a religion . a star, somewhere
of what I’ve distrusted
and yet seek
in the night of spring greening
where birds begin arguing (the males, as usual
but listen
good questions
guide better
than many answers
let me relate notations
of elk found on mountains
behind mountains – beside mountains, too
where streams run fast and clear
in everlasting rapture
before they appeared to me in their flesh
before I had children
before you appeared
but now
we’ll argue theology over lunch or dinner
or the menu
but first, grace
2
all this is not the same
as sitting by yourself
not the same as watching
anything
or listening to anything
or tasting anything
you can touch
since you asked, I’ll tell
you everything I know
if you tell me
where you’d like to start
3
to be completely honest
is so simple
you would think
until facing others
until facing yourself
all the temptations
all the screw-ups
all the aspirations
all the ruins to your back
all the idealized masks and labels
you wear
the childhood you’ve never left
all the flattery and self-delusions
all the false accusations you can’t quite shake
all the flaking paint on the siding of your house
all the cracking plaster within
as you age, all the lost years
you deny
all the shortcuts
so much of what your mirror
never reveals
no matter what you say
no matter what they say
the sins of omission
as well as commission
all the skills of a Philadelphia lawyer
all the skills of public office
all the skills of executive decision
any or all
the impossibility of saying exactly who you are
or why
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set, click here.
GARDEN DIMENSIONS
“They already were like gods
made in Yahweh’s own image
and didn’t even know it.”
“I could see the Woman would be easier
to convince. She appreciated color and
the bouquet, where the Man noticed
only the fruit’s heft and taste.”
Every snake has its own hole.
Sometimes a snake is just as snake,
Doctor Freud.
And the Serpent went on to make a fortune
developing shopping malls lined with retailers
promising to cover everyone’s nakedness.
* * *
God creates a Helper for the Man
and she helps him, all right:
helps him get into trouble,
helps him to the forbidden fruit,
helps him get ejected from Paradise.
Not only that, but I’d venture
she believed she was doing something
beneficial for him all along,
something for his own good.
(And it was very good)
* * *
Where has Eden gone? Maybe
it’s now ahead of us, down
the road, rather than behind
with its gates shut tight.
As for Original Sin,
life’s not fair.
Some parents gamble
away the mortgage,
their children’s
college tuition.
Others get to be boss
through the injustice
of genetic roulette.
But that’s not really
part of this story.
* * *
Where do the other people come from?
Maybe the question becomes, for us,
where do other people COME FROM?
You! My neighbors! My antagonist,
my friend, my spouse, my children?
Perhaps they come from that other couple
God created, in the first creation story,
just before Eden. Perhaps they, too,
are ejected from their own Eden.
Perhaps there were other gardens
that were also released –
the ones whose stories we’ve forgotten.
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.
OF MASTS, SPARS, AND BROKEN YARDS
1
in moonlight
Cape Ann, two months after the Perfect Storm
maybe three
while standing back on a broad outcropping
25 feet above the roiling and ebb
unpredictably, a wave explodes above me
from behind
washes around my feet
I could have been swept away
so step back, gingerly, if you will
2
driving a ridge, no view of shimmering expanses
between country club and great estates
sand plowed like snow
two feet deep, both sides of the state highway
mixed with kelp
3
nothing to trifle with
this fluid motion
in its hypnotic attraction
all recitative
with cymbals and snare drum
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of seacoast poems, click here.
Jnana's Red Barn 