sw00294tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp033007

   31

          Darn You, Geo-- Star--


          "Demonstrations"
          lamentations
          rogue creations
          insulations
          simulations
          adulations
          rank elations
          fill our nations
          creak foundations
          split relations
          enter stations
          perturbations
          confirmations
          ordinations
          wave what day shuns
          declarations
          decorations
          bunk orations

          ~

          Then these deflations
          situations
          declamations
          fabulations
          defamations
          explanations
          excoriations
          insinuations
          incriminations
          discriminations
          victimizations
          imitations
          implications
          limitations
          importations
          demarcations
          regulations
          regimentations
          reprobations
          operations
          dark notations
          informations
          revelations
          reverberations
          obfuscations
          inclinations
          oscillations
          undulations
          inhalations
          exhalations
          circulations
          dog rotations





-
Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00291tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp032707                     

 30

          By Way of Thanks to


          Gee what an
          excellent
          orgy of
          ribaldry
          getting this
          ever now
          sanity
          touching me
          after which
          rightfully--
          being an
          underthing
          castaway--
          kingdoms me.





-
Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00286tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp032607                     

 29

          About


          sun
                &
                     moon

          press
                     my

          digitator






-
note: digitator = brain



Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00276tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp032207                     

 28

 Okay then,


 just in case
 you need to know:

 I don't drive:

 neither golf balls
 nor vehicles.

 Sometimes I drive

 either myself
 or another

 to some distraction.

 Other times
 I try to drive

 a point home

 if  I can 
 go that far

 if that point

 chooses to
 ride with me.

 Yesterday

 I drove a nail
 into a snit.

 Forget those

 footballs,
 soccer balls.

 Do wish I could

 determine how
 and why and where

 to drive what may.







 - - -

 [ There is a

   subliminal
   ending to

   the above

   which can
   be deduced. ]





-
Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00269tdp-poem

This Day's Poem     tdp031707                   

 25

 Assuming Shapes


 I am a try angle,
 or an ask where,
 even a Sir Cull.

 Did you ever
 trap a zoid, or get trapped by
 an ob long?

 When I get angry enough
 I sometimes acquire the power to
 reck tangles.

 Usually, though,
 I prefer to
 peer amid.





 -------
Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00255tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp030907              

 24

 Rising


 Another day
 Has come my way;

 I cannot say
 I know not how

 To reach that bough
 Wherein the now

 Remembers who
 Is there that you

 I thought I knew;
 But should I care

 To stretch to where
 All's dreams & air?




 [ Note: 
   I am presently late at night 
   randomly reading Harold Bloom's 
   The Best Poems of the English Language. ]

 [ Further Notes:
   Visit Trevor Dodge's Wordpress site.
   -
   Visit commondreams.org and seek out 
   Bloom's "Reflections in the Evening Land".
   -
   Visit twbookmark.com and seek out there
   the excerpt from Harold Bloom's Genius. ]

   Because of my having read 
   A Map of Misreading, Harold Bloom
   is in one of my 1976 sonnets,
   but today I say:
   Harold the Bloom that cannot die.
 -

 03.10.07 Note:  Self-reliance is a goodly virtue;
                        yet, if I had had to rely solely 
 on myself for the better part of my now-going-on 
 67 years as an Earth-alive human, I would have   
 long ago  passed into another realm.  The core 
 of what I hold sacred is the Pauline definition of 
 charity, from which for me flows compassion,
 empathy, wisdom, serenity, courage, persistence, 
 and holy creativity.  Within these abide faith and 
 hope.  I am not spiritually advanced enough to be 
 even a mediocre example.  Therefore, each of these 
 is an ideal in my life.



Brian A. J. Salchert                       
 

sw00240tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp022707   color-poem

 23

 "Turn"

    G          R          E          E          N


                                'n'



                    B    E    R    R    Y


                                          it.

Brian A. J. Salchert                    

sw00226tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp022107

 22

 Epitaph


 My greatest poems
           are among
                     the missing.

 They knew better
           than I/
                      what to do.

 -------
Brian A. J. Salchert                     

sw00207tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp021307

 21

 As the Desk Lamp Flickers


 All day yesterday
    mists of rain,
 and late in the day
    heavier rain;
 and this morning
          who he 'ou
          who he 'ou
       from before sunrise
       and after sunrise
       between the buildings:
             the north side
                   of this one
          and the south side
                   of that one
          merely a   red zone away:
             gusts of wind
                modulating
          wave after wave after wave
                like a rush of demons
                or ghosts of the dead
                or the end of
                      the known world
             who you
             who you
                   who youuuuuu beeeee
                                be you
                                be you
                                be you
                   whoooooo
                      heeee
                            who he
                            who he
                            who he
                      hyouuuuuuu
                whoooooo
 And I here--
    knees up
    under half a comforter--
 my back, neck, head
    resting against pillows
          four deep,
 listening:
       who you
             youuu weee
                      hyewww-ew-'ou
                      hwitcha-ah-ahhhhhh:
 deciding then
    to get up again,
       squinting at
          the 7:30
       in the glare from
                      my cell
                      widget:
             whooooooooo
                       hewwwwwwwwww
                      hewwwwwwwwww
                      hew-ee-ew
                                  you it
                                  you it
                                  you it
             youuuuuuu

 - - - - -
Brian A. J. Salchert                     

sw00171tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp020707b

 20

 Miner Poet


 I am a miner poet.
 I dig for things.
 Some days
 I do not find anything.
 Other days
 I do.
 Maybe what I find
 isn't worth digging for,
 but I dig for it anyway.
 Maybe, on the other hand,
 any thing I find
 is worth digging for.
 Did you find anything today?





 -------
Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00170tdp-ditty

This Day's Poem   tdp020707

19

Valentine Ditty


Cupid's such a
   stupid thing:
bow and arrow
   on the wing --

hit your heart
   and make it sob
for any blot
   or any blob.


Someone needs to
   take that angel
and somewhere somehow
   rearrange all

of his quirks
   that sting us oddly
so he can't be 
   so ungodly.

 - - - - -
Brian A. J. Salchert                      

sw00135tdp-poem

This Day's Poem - tdp032107

 27

 [ The poem here is from 013007. ]


  Choose Your Devotion


  The mystery of the word;
  the song of a bird;
  the delight not heard.




  -------
Brian A. J. Salchert                        

sw00129tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp032007

 26

 [ The following is an old poem I revised today: 012807. ]


 As the Muse Directs


 There is one way to sing,
 and one way only:
 To know the voice
 which whispers from your soul,
 and to follow it.
 Whether wrenches, pipes, or saw blades bloody
 that soul's tense lips;
 whether yogurts or juices
 soothe its tongue,
 there is but one way only.
 Deny
 an other one.



 - - - - - - -

 [ To me, the notion that one manner of writing (of imagining)
   discredits another is hogwash, which is not to say one manner
   may/ seem more vital and/or be more appropriate at the time
   of its ascendancy.  As change is a constant for those of us  
   who are Earth-alive, the ways we encounter, assimilate, 
   express change/ do often accordingly/ change.  I let/ whatever 
   minglings of sound and sense appear in my consciousness/ lead
   me forth/ whenever I choose to be/ led forth.  Still, I am not 
   above/ choosing a pattern for/ what I/ intend to express. ]



 -
Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00127tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp012007

 18

 Intersections


 There is a sense
    of high estate
 too difficult
    to contemplate;

 and I am here,
    and I am there,
 slithering in
    my underwear.




 -------
Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00126tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp011907

 17

 What You Make of It


 And the ice storms raged
    through the Middle West.
 Yet the sheathed
    vegetation,
 horribly torn
    by the crystal weights,
 bore a
    prophetic brilliance
 as cold and darkness
    descended upon
 thousands & thousands of
    frantic humans,
 and community became
    holy again.




 -------
Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00125tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp011607b

 16

 My Birthday Party Could Not Be


 and so I say:
 All the years, all the sad years,
     pass me by;
 and many others will be lauded,
     but never shall I.
 It is best that way.




 -------
Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00124tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp011607

 15

 This Day's What?


 I am a foolish troubadour
 who ghoulishly whispers at your door
 and wants too fervently to explore
 what you reservedly hide in a drawer.




 -------
Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00123tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp011507-011607

 14

 This


 It certainly would/ not take much
 to bury me as a such-and-such,
 or to/ forever show
 a visage of me as a so-and-so

 even though/ I might yet touch
 with some surprise,
 might be a such (or a so)
 accepted by/ your knowing eyes.




 -------
Brian A. J. Salchert                       

sw00122tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp011507

 13

 And I?


 The idiots ride.  The idiots ride.
 The idiots ride the idiots.
 The idiots ride the Idiot's Ride,
 and I among them, duly tied.




 -------
Brian A. J. Salchert                        

sw00121tdp-poem

This Day's Poem   tdp011407

 12

And So We Met--


a wimp, a hunk,
and a yellow bunk.




-------
Brian A. J. Salchert