Jeanne Poland's Poetry Blog
10 Jul 2016 Leave a comment
in Poetry, PT @ Jeanne's Rehab Tags: coconut roasted almonds, cook gluten free, counter tops sparkling, cut @sweeten, dainty linen, garnish tray, Irish cream gevalia, PT @ Jeanne's Rehab, recliner to relish whole foods, wash strawberries, wwlk to kitchen
1 Walk to kitchen
2 Wash strawberries
3 Cut &sweeten
4 Cook gluten free rice cereal
5 Top with strawberries and coconut roasted almonds
6 Serve with Irish creme Gevalia Coffee &fat-free half and half
7 Garnish tray with cutlery, color, and dainty linen.
8 Leave all counter tops sparkling, and sun-kissed.
9 Retire to recliner to relish whole food of the morning.
09 Jul 2016 Leave a comment
in Poetry
How fitting this post when Owen sets out today for a Park City Mt Bike Jaunt!
The Rolling Four
8 wheels in the “Litz”
puncture pastures rocks ‘n road
electricity!
09 Jul 2016 Leave a comment
in nostrils, Poetry Tags: artist swirls of spicy fire, creativity, my cousin, nostrils, shares her nose
My cousin shares her nostrils on Facebook
stallion gulps of air
artist swirls of spicy fire
creativity
08 Jul 2016 Leave a comment
in Leaning Into Love, Poetry Tags: "I'm enough", after she turned 50, Anna Quindlen, Leaning Into Love, not thin enough, pretty enough, smart enough, what people thought of her
Linda & Claudia
Anna Quindlen realized after she turned 50 that she didn’t really care what people thought of her anymore.
“After all those years as a woman hearing ‘not thin enough, not pretty enough,
not smart enough, not this enough, not that enough,’
almost overnight
I woke up one morning and thought, ‘I’m enough,’” she says.
07 Jul 2016 Leave a comment
in A Small Room, Poetry Tags: A Small Room, DavidMcCullough, freshly oiled, green banker's lamp, no running water, no telephone, Nothing good written in a large room, Royal typewriter, small windowed shed, whistle
David McCullough
For many years, he wrote in a small, windowed shed in the backyard of his Martha’s Vineyard home. He said, “Nothing good was ever written in a large room.” The shed had no running water and no telephone. Family members had to whistle when they approached so as not to startle McCullough. On his desk were a green banker’s lamp and a Royal typewriter, which he had freshly oiled for each new book.
06 Jul 2016 Leave a comment
in Eternal Vigilance, Poetry Tags: Anne Tayler, day or night, Eternal Vigilance, Hilary Mantel, inspiration, live other lives, Louis Levy Lima
illustration by Louis Levy Lima
.
Hilary Mantel
recently wrote: “The most frequent question writers are asked is some variant on, ‘Do you write every day, or do you just wait for inspiration to strike?’ I want to snarl, ‘Of course I write every day, what do you think I am, some kind of hobbyist?’ But I understand the question is really about the central mystery — what is inspiration? Eternal vigilance, in my opinion. Being on the watch for your material, day or night, asleep or awake.”
“I want to live other lives. I’ve never quite believed that one chance is all I get. Writing is my way of making other chances.” —Anne Tyler
05 Jul 2016 1 Comment
in Poetry, synchronicity Tags: shift the rainbow warms to cools, synchronicity, turns red-yellows cool
turn reds-yellows cool
shift the rainbow warms to cools
synchronicity
03 Jul 2016 3 Comments
in Poetry
Internet Portal to Patient’s Private Room
Charts to encourage patient interaction
Patient:
There are an endless supply of professionals from the Phillipines to minister to the endless details required!
Today I’m home to my very own personally styled rehab!
30 Jun 2016 Leave a comment
in Poetry, Warblers Tags: even the little ones know how to read maps, Jim Harrison, Language is the only Homeland, Warblers
Even the little ones know how to read maps!
“Language is the only Homeland” Czeslaw Milosz
.
Warbler
by Jim Harrison
This year we have two gorgeous
yellow warblers nesting in the honeysuckle bush.
The other day I stuck my head in the bush.
The nestlings weigh one-twentieth of an ounce,
about the size of a honeybee. We stared at
each other, startled by our existence.
In a month or so, when they reach the size
of bumblebees they’ll fly to Costa Rica without a map.
“Warbler” by Jim Harrison from Dead Man’s Float. © Copper Canyon Press, 2016.
29 Jun 2016 Leave a comment
in A Hundred Seventy Five Years Old, Poetry Tags: A Hundred Seventy Five Years Old, couple of drinks, damnable war, energetic, felt light, Marriage by Jim Harrison, mere seventy-five, serious argument, seventy-fifth birthday, trust the government, veterans, went to bed
Marriage
by Jim Harrison
I just remembered a serious argument.
On my seventy-fifth birthday I had the firm sense
that I was a hundred seventy-five. She disagreed.
“Look at your driver’s license,” she said. I said you know
the state of Montana took my license from me. She
went to my briefcase and got out my passport.
“You’re a mere seventy-five,” she said.
I said, “How can you trust the government
in this important matter?” I went to bed
after a couple of drinks believing I was a hundred
seventy-five. In the morning I felt
only seventy-five and apologized at breakfast.
I’d lost a hundred years and felt light,
younger, more energetic. As a boy I saw in Life
magazine photos of the Civil War veterans. I don’t
think there are any left, are there?
They would have to be a hundred seventy-five.
Sometimes I remember aspects of that damnable war.
“Marriage” by Jim Harrison from Dead Man’s Float. © Copper Canyon Press, 2016. Reprinted with permission.
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