mjblathers

dark poet who loves to laugh


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wind song

whispers of wind buffet

the long, hanging chimes

brushing, caressing, clambering

clanging non-melodic tones

that grow, invent, cry out

a music more complex

than reason

like love

we think we know

but when we feel

all sense staggers

our understanding

is captured on the wind

 

 

 

 


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gossip

firs and lone spruce chitter

over tidings spilled

by o’er-flying geese

 

sway to prattle-tattle

as curious breeze insinuates

among the branches

 

evergreens pining to hear

shiver in green scent

redolent with excitement

 

sigh, needled by tidbits

items too scant to satisfy

the itch for whole story

 

tale grows, stands disagree

branches frenzied in furious dispute

goaded by whiplash wind

 

gradually calmer cones prevail

‘we will leaf this,’ they bark

the grove quiets to murmurs


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ripples of hope

ripples of hope

with thanks to Robert F. Kennedy

 

settling atop columbia’s agitation

at the mouth of the river

buffeted by conflicting chop

of wind and current

buller’s shearwaters

in jagged line disappear

and reappear to each other

carried up and down in dizzying

fray of elements too powerful

to be else but borne

 

settling atop each state’s agitation

in the maw of federal legislation

buffeted by conflicting blows

of hot air and posing

bullied mere waiters

for justice line untouching

but not untouched by others

carted down and down in dizzied

fray of greed too powerful

to be overcome

 

 

 

 

sinking then in stagnant pool

of believed inevitability

good common men flail

give out, give in after years

treading toxic water to save

their loves from drowning

yet may a gesture, a helping

hand or program of insight

give hope and renewed strength

rippling out to touch and heal