Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Sidecar Serendipity

photo © Mark Butkus 2009
Motorcycle dreams: past, present and future...

I got to see the
light of a smile
upon the face
of a 79 year old child

An inquisitive child
who once rode a bike
from Asia to Europe
in a simpler time

Friday, May 5, 2017

Tonto — No un poema de cinco de mayo


Recuerde el Alamo
Recuerde el Maine
Recuerda la batalla de Puebla
Recuerda la batalla de Gettysburg
Recuerde que ninguno es una fiesta nacional
patrocinada por licores o cerveza.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Steam Dream: Julian Tuwim and The Locomotive


A big locomotive has pulled into town,
Heavy, humongous, with sweat rolling down,
A plump jumbo olive.
Huffing and puffing and panting and smelly,
Fire belches forth from her fat cast iron belly.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Elizabeth Barrett Browning and The Cry of the Children

Spring blooms at Whitney Rest Area at mile marker 93 on the westbound lanes of I-24 in Kentucky.
Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers—
And that cannot stop their tears.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

An Easter Egg in A Dog-Eared Notebook


Do you remember when
Easter weekends were
Four day getaways
with a half day headstart?

Monday, April 10, 2017

Injured


Injured souls
Lap from Empty Bowls
Tasting the last drops of Happiness
That left them

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

An Elegy of Happenstance for Allen Ginsberg


Allen Ginsberg died today
and I was reading his poems
That was just the way the book unfolded
as my day unfolded otherwise

He was ranting He was raving
in his poetic ways
On and on, on poisoned lands
and money grubbing corporate hands
I wondered what he'd write today

Monday, April 3, 2017

Donald Trump's Childhood Ode to Baseball

Will the reigning World Series Champion Chicago Cubs repeat in 2017?

Play ball! Another season of baseball is upon us and the New York Times has an interesting article about presidents throwing out the first pitch. What struck us the most was the last paragraph. That last paragraph is a poem to baseball by the 12-year-old Donald Trump.