Searching for cool
Slithering, hunting
Transforming
poetry
You’re Gonna Eat That!? Adventures with Food, Family, and Friends
This is my new book, published last month. It is filled with stories, poems, and recipes–healthy food for vegans, vegetarians, pescatarians, and meat eaters with photos and detailed instructions. Currently, it can be purchased at Burrowing Owl bookstores in Canyon and Amarillo, Texas, and online at http://www.dreamcatcherbooks.com, Angel editions.
Heat
110
I look at the weather station.
watch hot wind bend juniper, mesquite.
Off and on clicks electricity, then off.
15 minutes, 20 minutes, 25,30,35.
Slowly, interior temperature rises.
I find the coolest place, read, worry
about refrigerated food.
40 minutes, 45.
Switch flips, ceiling fans whir.
I think: how could anyone live
in this heat without air conditioning.
One happy plant resides outside,
from somewhere in East Africa.
Everything else–wilted.
In Honor of My Father
The Nap
He lays on his back on the cold, hard, blue linoleum floor after
the midday dinner of homegrown roast beef, potatoes, wilted
lettuce salad, hot coffee, coconut topped cake. His left arm
forms a right angle at the elbow as the back of his wrist rests
on his forehead, touching the slight curliness of his not quite
black hair. His left leg stretched out straight, right one drawn
up, knee jutting out. The sleeves of his worn, pale blue dress
shirt rolled up; his overalls show signs of wear and washing.
Every day after dinner he naps in the same spot in this same
position for exactly fifteen minutes before returning to the field.
My father.
Seventeen years after his death, one day as I napped, slowly
driving off, astonishment stuck. There I lay exactly as my
father used to so many years ago, my left arm forming a right
angle, wrist on my forehead, left leg stretched out straight, right
one drawn up, knee jutting out. I remember not just in heart
and mind.
The body always knows.
Taken at the top of Mt. Evans in Colorado when I was a child.
Oh, What a Beautiful Morning
Azure sky beckons
Bees hum
Birds carol
Peace pervades
Desert
Give me the long view
the endless space,
let my bones gleam white
beneath a desert willow
where a diamondback seeks shade.
Let me walk through red rock, climb to eternity,
stretch arms into the azure, crystalline air,
laugh out loud.
Give me the long view,
let me laugh out loud,
look down the Kaibab
Plateau into eternity.
Let me sing songs to emptiness,
to stark, open, free,
dance in sun, moonlight,
laugh out loud.
Give me the long view.
Student Poems-Three
Three poems follow:
Nature
Nature is
a beautiful place
so start
kicking that
can all over
the place
we will
we will
rock
you
Ethan Singletary
As I am laying at home
I hear a loud thunderous noise
The sound startled me out of my seat
I looked out the window
There was a giant funnel
I heard the tornado siren
As the trees were coming out of ground
I run downstairs to take cover
The storm was ruling the land, but
I was safe from the natural catastrophe.
Makenna Byrd
The Grip
As the wind blows and the storm flows through this
Desolate wasteland
As you wonder the numbing thunder puts you at peace
As the wind whips and the storm grips the desolate ground
As it whirls and twirls bringing wreckage
to the sky
Someone brings a tractor to clean up
this decay
For this storm may bring sorrow but all through
the hollow the great sorrow is met with a great
peace
As the family sifts among the rubble and
finds on this trouble at least they are in
one piece
Corbin McKinney
Student Poems-Two
Here is the next set:
The Beauty of Nature
Nature is everywhere
It teaches you how to share,
God created nature
With beauty you can always capture,
Without it there will be no peace
Everywhere will soon cease,
Nature includes some of the biggest animals
Like the awesome looking camel,
Nature has everything from Willow Trees
All the way down to bumblebees,
Nature is everywhere.
Jaci Allen
life vs. nature
spring, summer
winter, fall
these are the seasons of the year
nature’s crazy
nature’s fun
nature has something for everyone
it can be scary
not so sweet
life’s like nature scary and fun
when times are tough rivers run
we may cry laugh and smile
life’s emotions drive me wild
Jordin Arnaud
Student Poems–One
After reading nature poems by Denise Levertov and Wendell Berry, the students wrote their own nature poems. Ten wanted me to post their poems on my blog, As as consequence, I will post two student poems each day. Here is the first set.
In late fall evening
There are leaves falling
and they are crunching
under your feet
as the birds fight
for the tree with the
most leaves My family
watches football in
the warm cozy house
of ours.
Trey Matthews.
Nature is beautiful
and helps you see,
the wild is suitable
for you and me.
Nature helps you grow
in strength and mindset,
and helps you realize
your true assets.
Look around and see
the beautiful world God made for me.
Bailee McAlister
The World in One Room
Four jaguar heads stare at me,
Mexican, Costa Rican.
A third guards the mantel,
partially hidden in tropical plants,
attack ready, tail raised, jaws open,
teeth bared.
My feet rest on a coffee table
carved in Kashmir. I look at the photo
of the young man whose family made it.
He took me home to meet his mom,
to the floating market.
Once peace reigned there.
Now I wonder if he is safe, alive.
The Hoop Dancer raises his arms,
the Acoma pot exudes ancient
black on white beauty, painted
by the tips of yucca stems.
The Thai Spirit House begs
to appease evil spirits.
I should put food and flowers there;
I never do.
Corn plant of life–for Navaho, Hopi,
me, painted, growing up my wall,
blue and red birds flitting through
the stalks, singing ancient songs.
Corn Maiden rug hanging on the wall;
an Isleta Pueblo girl won a contest
with its design. Four Corn Maiden
Kachinas watch the room.
Corn everywhere–Sacred Corn.
Three Ethiopian crosses, St. George
and the Dragon, Frida Kahlo doll,
Argentinian Madonna, Tohono O’odham
baskets, a painted cow skull, Nigerian carved
wooden elephants, including a Chieftains chair,
the stained glass transom window from the house
where my dad lived from birth to ten.
In a room filled with windows, there
is little room for paintings, yet–
purple bison glide across the prairie,
an Iraqi woman flies through an azure
sky filled with dark blue birds,
a 15th century mystic, Kabir, tells
a tale in poetry, Navaho spirits,
pumas walking toward me–
my obsession.
Rugs scattered–Kerman,
an unknown Persian city, Afghani,
Egyptian, Indian, Zapotec, scraps of old
Turkish rugs sewn together.
In one cabinet, Grandmother’s china,
Mom’s Czech crystal–a wedding present
decades ago, Grandson’s painted art,
the silverware Dad gave Mom on their
first wedding anniversary, Mom’s
everyday dishes–flowers blooming.
I use them every day.
These objects–a testament to who I am:
World wanderer, seeker, citizen.
writingontherim 