MY SWEET AUTUMN – REPRISE

By Charles Robert Lindholm

I Am A Lover,
Of The Seasons
And For Each Of Them
I Have My Own,
And Secret Reasons
For Letting Them,
Make Love To Me 

They All Touch Me
In The Deepest Way

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Thoughts

a new thought
now it limped over, green
eyes blown, puffed intents
a quiet cloud, a serene dragonfly

Finding words

This pen will find words
every day without fail
Whether I’m well
or whether I ail
For there’s always a nuance
I’ll want to portray
Of the life that’s around me
day after day

Aintree

It’s raining up on Merseyside
Aintree in the rain
Where I’ve come up from Liverpool
on an early train

There’s not much going on here
unless you are a horse
For here’s when the Grand National
is run on this racecourse

HAIKU: THE CLOWN CAUCUS

By Charles Robert Lindholm

The Clown Caucus Is

Changing The Rules Of The Game,

Voices

voices they twirl waters
no hooks to keep ears
carry my parched mind
in corners I live not

Tri-Tanka I (tanka)

To start this series
in thirty-one syllables
Japanese Tanka
A short song to bring you joy
Jemverse social media

So here are first lines
Crafted by the poet’s hand
Found and captured here
To form and syntax structured
Voicing life in five short lines

Wedges

the moments I wedge
on these fine grooves
sculpted on vintage palms
hang on a tenuous shine

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It’s a word we fear,

Wait

And so we wait
as the warmth of winter
promises redemption

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The collar I wear

Braided strands of

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Out here,

Where the wild things live

Tri-haiku X (tears)

To open your eyes
as bright sparkles sting and fall
It’s ok to cry

Embrace my sorrow
But then tomorrow bring smiles
that I may see joy

As sometimes a tear
will fall from my eyes with joy
as something moves me

©Jemverse

A Festival of Light

Let the light of who you truly are

Shine bright

And may the world

Embrace you

Photo by the author

For the backstory on this poem, visit byalannapass.com 

I Should Have

I should have known

When you were late

Because in your eyes

I could see our fate

HAIKU: AUTUMN IS ENDING

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Autumn Is Ending

Seeking Wisdom

“I talk to God but the sky is empty.” – Sylvia Plath

I seek wisdom in the sawdust falling gently
beneath the polished mahogany bowl
you carved with loving hands
for it is not the finished product
but rather the blood, sweat, and tears
buried deep within its caviar ribbons
that tell this story

The safe warmth of home

Steel grey seas with iron chill
it’s with whimsy that I peer
at the beach I know so well
in summer brings such cheer
Yet now the winter’s icy hand
has me firmly in its grip
As grey green waters frenzied churn
with northern winds are whipped

Why Do I Do This?

A writer of modest talent can only hope one day to put together a word or two—on on a rare week, a phrase—that’s worth keeping. This is not the conceit of perfectionism. This is just the reality of a mediocre vision that cannot totally grasp and share what floats in and out of view. It’s the frustration that has to be managed—The gap between what might be glimpsed, a brief impression of something sublime, and the skill that, were it a painting, only produces stick figure drawings.

So the experience is one of enduring a sense of constant failure, working to press my cheek up against the foggy glass that keeps me from the truth, but still trying to catch a scent of it and convey it honestly….Throwing the lariat a thousand times at a stallion that prances just out of reach, hoping that one more throw will tame the beast and bring him nearer to feel the heat and the true wild life of him.

That’s the job. (Neurotic? Of course it is. But what’s a little neurosis among friends?). It’s just a matter of putting up with failure long enough to feel the hot breath of something beautiful. It is insanity. But oh, so seductive.

Lighthearted At The End of the World

Ed: I’m researching one or more works on climate fiction –CliFi–that will tiptoe through a increasingly alarming future. In the process, I’m finding some previous works that, while dark, are also windows into the subject. So, to brighten your day, here are two:

A Song on the End of the World

BY CZESLAW MILOSZ

On the day the world ends|
A bee circles a clover,
A fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,

By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be.

On the day the world ends
Women walk through the fields under their umbrellas,

A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,

Christmas Tree, Damned Christmas Tree

Based on O Tannenbaum (Oh Christmas Tree).

A Christmas tree, a Christmas tree!
In search of you my day’s spent.
A Christmas tree, a Christmas tree!
Search through the woods so fervent.

Seasonal

The leaves lay spread amidst a coverlet of snow-
one a bit early, the other late in season

December

No.4 of 12 in the Jemverse ’12 months II’ series

December comes and tradition
sees the tree go up tonight
Decorations hanging all around
‘most everywhere in sight

For us it sees a birthday
Holly’s twenty-five this year
and sharing it with Christmas
always brings us all good cheer

THE MAGIC OF OUR SONG

THE MAGIC OF OUR SONG
By Charles Robert Lindholm

I Was Drawn
Back Into Childhood Memories
As I Listened To The Wind
Whispering Through The Trees

A “Spin The Dreidel” Limerick

Poet's Corner

Poetry challenge: Christmas poem.

.

This is one of my favorite limericks and I am happy to recycle it today. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and Happy Holidays to all.

My favorite part of Hanukkah is playing Spin The Dreidel. The dreidel is a four-sided spinning top that children play with on Hanukkah. Each side is imprinted with a Hebrew letter. These letters are an acronym for the Hebrew words “A great miracle happened there,” referring to the miracle of the oil that took place. The way I play it involves another miracle of sorts – the miracle of carnal fun.

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Tri-Haiku IX (yellow)

A little yellow
as a splash against the green
Memory of warmth

This yellow fills me
Drives away my winter blues
Hums a cheerful song

And I am yellow
Reflecting the sunshine here
I shine to the day

HER WORDS DANCED

A TRIBUTE TO MAYA ANGELOU
By Charles Robert Lindholm

Her Words Danced
Off The Page
And Made My
Heart Sing

Winter leave me now

3 of 3

This brittle chill, this iron cold
this fall from grace for me
is winter in a nutshell
and a few words, certainly
So I fund solace in these times
with words that speak of sun
and warmer days of sunshine
when winter days are done