Sunday, July 19, 2009

Wooden Skeeters, A Day In The Life

These are lighthearted if you don't dig very deep. I recall the photo I spun off of on Robin's Motel Zero site. If Robin's watching as he sometimes does then he may be kind enough to provide a link. Heh. Like Tom gettin Huck to do the heavy lifting on that old picket fence.

Wooden Skeeters

I heard the clicking
Of tiny pointy wooden
Feet approach my head.
I looked thataway
And found a wooden skeeter
Aiming at my ear.
(I hate most ear bites)
Now what do I do? The wood
Part confuses me.

January 29, 2009 7:42 AM


This one too has layers and it is perhaps best just to stick with the story because when something manmade in my life comes at me without anyone to blame, well, then I guess I am driving and that just sucks. It is really convenient at that moment to find someone to blame in a hurry.

A Day In The Life

Don't you just hate it
When floating on the river
There's a boat bearing
Down on you and you
Shout and scream, risk falling out
By jumping and all
But that boat keeps on
Coming at you, nothing left
To do but jump out
And that boat takes yours,
Smashes it so completely
There's nothing left, then
You notice no one
Was in that other bad boat...

What the hell was that?

January 29, 2009 10:49 AM


  1. I used to have a dream that those bloody things crawled under my skin through a hole in my knee...go figure.
    As for wooden....*grin*....yeah.

    No one in the boat seems kind of apt to me...who says we can't drive two at once? Did i just say we were no one?



  2. yes lighthearted... first you smile... but the images and wording are so powerful you just cannot help thinking deeper... relating them to yourslef... to your life... to other people... to life... and the trends dominating it... a long journey starts and then you notice a change... a change of perspective...

    now i'm thinking about the skeeters in my life in a new light... the confusing wood part...

    now i'm thinking about my smashed boat and the other empty boat...

    now i feel i can do things differently in future...

    and this is the magic of poetry... thanks Christopher for these...

    thanks for all your beautiful poems... they are all soothing... not because they help us forget but because they help us think deeper and see things differently...

    thanks also for all your calming words and concern on my blog... all those gorgeous poems you left there... you cannot imagine how they saved me through this turbulent time i am in...

    i always say poetry is the savior... you know how Iran is saved by poetry...

    surely you know about Iranian people and the way they consult Hafiz when they are troubled... his poetry helps them to calm down... to meditate so that they can find a way to cope or pass 'through' obstacles...

    and you were Hafiz coming to me... i opened my blog (with difficulty most of the time) and you were there with a poem... and that poem became a mirror for me to see myself and my world in it... and always.... always you opened a new window... and light poured in... healing light...

    you are a real poet... a great one...


  3. Came by here.. and i am really glad i could leave smiling. There's a special touch of light hearted humor in your poetry.. that's really valuable!


  4. I do, I do just hate that...but not as much as when there is someone driving the boat and it keeps coming anyway. Now that, I really hate.

    Wooden Skeeters makes me think sf again. Sounds like the beginning of a great story.

  5. That's about right, I be nobody.

    HB, I am someone who missed a chance for two years in the Shah's Iran. My sister, mom and dad went to Teheran where my dad was Superintendent of the American Society School. Later I went to Bangladesh and my sister stayed home. What all this has done of course is make the people who live on the other side of the world real for me. You are real for me.

    And yes, Hafiz is my mentor.

    Silver, welcome.

    Karen, having someone to blame, you mean you don't want someone else to blame?? No, I get what you mean. One of my most difficult moments was when I was conscious that "they" really were gunning for me, that it really was more than paranoia. I had to go and change my whole life. Truth. That actually happened.

  6. It seems to me that wooden skeeters would leave nasty slivers after they were finished with you.

    Plus careening empty boats are everywhere, you just have to learn how to enjoy paddling in deep water.


  7. Ouch, that's a different take,

    Light's on, nobody home :)


  8. Well, Robin, we both could notice that I date the poems. Heh. No trouble at all. I followed your link and that's the bug all right.

  9. Ahh.. when something goes wrong, my first reaction is, to blame someone else...
    And for the wood; i am reading The Tao of Poeh (in Dutch, so don't mind my translation back into English) about the uncarved block.

  10. Pinocchio was a "wooden head".

    If something goes wrong up in Mendenhall, blame me. I have big shoulders. I can take it.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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