…and then a new generation …
a boy, an old soul
but a merry new story
fresh at bone and marrow
adhering to Conrad’s dictum
with little shocks and surprises
in every sentence of his book
his life, his metaphor . . .
wearing Truth as his dermis
seeking tears, not blood
and he, like all good art
changed me for the better
© 2014, poem, Jamie Dedes, Photograph courtesy of my cousin Dan, all rights reserved, from the family album, please be respecful
Just as I wonder
whether it’s going to die,
the orchid blossoms
and I can’t explain why it
moves my heart, why such pleasure
The Orchid Flower by Sam Hamill (b. 1942), Poet and Founding Editor of Copper Canyon Press, from his book Dumb Luck
Inspired today, I decided to make the short trip from the contemplative solitude of my room to the busy, bustling, sometimes even boisterous-with-conviviality Trader Joe’s not too far from here. The purpose: to buy some orchids. I thought I remembered that Trader’s had orchids for sale at reasonable prices. They do indeed. And how lovely they are. I bought two (the picture doesn’t do them justice) and two tea roses to light my room and softly complement and complete the green leafy plants that have been my companions for some years now. With their complex formation and color variation, the orchids have a natural poetry that blends with the book-lined shelves. They make me smile as I spin my own soul’s poetry, which has to be worked for and which I can only hope will be as fully organic as the naked beauty of an orchid.
© 2014, words and photo, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved
winter has stopped rattling the glass
and spring has arrived, tentative in an
uncertain green, touching down
and taking off again . . . peripatetic
night falls with a chill wind, hugs a tree
and the fairy who lives in the moon pens
ghost stories of Earth as she might be
© 2014, poem, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved Illustration via Wikipedia: A fairy girl (by illustrator Cora M. Norman), seen at the end of “The Cloud Fairies” in Ernest Vincent Wright’s The Wonderful Fairies of the Sun.
there’s little i’d want to live over
but a few moments, with special people,
their memory held safe, gently wrapped,
with affection, like a
gift waiting to be touched,
opened and savored …
ribbon tugged
….. paper unfurled
the scent of other children, brothers,
the timbre of their voices, those early days,
the freshness playing in my mind,
in flickering light, like
an eight-millimeter film
…..t of toddlers and youths
haunting the years until today
when i found you again
i reached out
…..and you reached back
© 2014, poem, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved
Illustration ~ courtesy of George Hodan, Public Domain Pictures.net
Jamie Dedes' THE POET BY DAY Webzine 