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“Election Day, November 1968” (Poem)

September 8, 2012

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Election Day, November 1968

The wind blew hard
that blow-hard day.

My own school straw-polled
for Wallace–famed for
blocking schoolhouse doors in
Alabama; his
running mate–Bomb-
Them-Back-To-The-Stone-Age Curtis
LeMay –

Then there was Nixon (Tricky
Dick) whose secret plan to win
the war sounded just a tad
too secret.

So, at the requisite
sidewalk distance, I pleaded
(sweetly), smiled (winningly),
for the guy I hoped meant
peace (Humphrey), justice (maybe),
hoping, if I were just nice enough, voters
might be swayed last
minute.

But people proved harder
than trees, and the next noon,
my smile-taut face
wept in the narrow of locker
while, behind me,
greasers grinned; I remember
one boy particularly–
the low belt of his Dickies’ pants thrust ahead–

The war went on for seven
more years.

Seven more years.

I’m not saying I was so smart – in fact
I was so not-smart that I never thought
of how many of those same
slicked-hair-back boys
may have ended up on blade-whipped
ladders, copters leaving
Saigon.

So not-smart that I never
even thought about how much I’d
like to see them again, even just that
one boy, his forehead wan
below the Vitalis, his
surly-curled lips, slim jut
of hip, bare
chin–

how much I’d like to just sit
with him, both of us sagging
into firm but comfy chairs, side by side,
not opposite–it still might
be hard to look each other in the
eye–till we’d spent some while
in talk, swaying too
now and again to our
old songs–he
was shy of dancing, I
remember, for all
the swagger.

****************************

I am, in fact, so not-smart that although I knew that Saigon fell in 1975, I did the math wrong and said that the war went on for eight more years instead of seven. (Agh- I somehow subtracting 68 from 75 and got 8!  Yes, I am thinking of Bill Clinton and arithmetic in this moment.)  

At any rate, I’ve corrected now and extend my apologies to those reading the original version.

The above draft poem is posted for the dVerse Poets Pub Poetics prompt hosted by Mary Kling on the subject of Autumn.   Check out dVerse for wonderful poetry and, if you have extra time, check out my books!  Poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, (by Karin Gustafson, illustrated by Diana Barco). 1 Mississippi -counting book for lovers of rivers, light and pachyderms, or Nose Dive, a very fun novel that is perfect for a pool or beachside escape.  Nose Dive is available on Kindle for just 99 cents!

Categories: poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 46 Comments

Why I Cannot Vote For the GOP (For Lilly Ledbetter) – Flash Friday 55

September 7, 2012
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Lilly Ledbetter – “It’s About Equality” (From The Washington Post)

Why I Cannot Vote For the GOP (For Lilly Ledbetter)

When I was three-months, my mother started teaching in a county where women with children under one year automatically received reduced pay.  Meaning that new mothers got even less pay than regular women (much less men).

In her/my first year, my mother mentioned me to no one, pretended I didn’t exist.

I exist.

***************************************

The above (without title) happens to be 55 words (and a lot of suffering) so tell it to Galen, the terrific G-Man.  Lilly Ledbetter is a woman from Alabama who discovered after two decades of employment as a manager with a tire company that she was being paid less than male employees holding the same job.  She brought legal action to recover her lost pay.  After a ten year battle, the Supreme Court told her that her claims were time-barred because she should have sued her employee within six months of the initial pay discrimination (although she did not know of it for two decades.)  The first bill signed into law by President Obama was the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act of 2009, which allowed a new statute of limitations to begin with each discriminatory pay check.

 

I am posting Lilly Ledbetter’s speech at the DNC below.  I found it very moving, as a woman, and also knowing my mother’s (and my) story. 

 

 

Categories: news, Obama, Uncategorized
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Comments: 18 Comments

People Who Really Upset Me (Inner Monologue?) (No, it doesn’t have to do with Politics.)

September 5, 2012

People who really upset me  (Inner Monologue?)

First, there’s that one in the glass,
whose bra strap always shows,
and whose (big) feet can be often found
stepping on her very own toes.

And then there is
that other one–
who lives in the other
lobe–
who steps
on her own–
toes some line–
who sorrows in
what glows–

who, strapped,
may be found
in “very” (though
not so much in
“own”)–

who, made of
glass,
steps on, towing–
that other one.

*****************************

This is a rather odd poem for a With Real Toads challenge hosted by Kerry O’Connor to write an inner monologue (i.e. bit of a rant) about someone annoying to you.  I’m afraid I went for the obvious–looking in the mirror, and the other side of my own brain.  Dashes are meant really for pauses rather than for any coherent grammatical purpose.  

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Comments: 24 Comments

Squeaky Bean

September 4, 2012

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Squeaky Bean

Freshly picked and
steamed
green beans
squeak
against teeth
like windows washed
streak clean;
the freshly picking, steaming,
human being
tests each bite
like a clown’s bright horn–with
crinkled wince and laughs;
chews, shines
inside.

**********************************************************

I’m posting the above for dVerse Poets Open Link Night, hosted by the wonderful Joe Hesch.  Check out dVerse for super poems, and also, if you get a chance, check out my books!  Poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, (by Karin Gustafson, illustrated by Diana Barco). 1 Mississippi -counting book for lovers of rivers, light and pachyderms, or Nose Dive, a very fun novel that is perfect for a pool or beachside escape. Nose Dive is available on Kindle for just 99 cents!

Categories: poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 26 Comments

Drinking, Under a Blue Moon, From a Cup That Is Already Broken (Tritina)

September 2, 2012

Summer Night, Albert Bloch, 1913

Drinking, Under a Blue Moon, From a Cup That Is Already Broken

I think of the Buddha, who, when his mother
lost a child, assuaged her grief with the promise
that a seed from a home that has not known mourning–

just a mustard seed–I can get one this morning,
the mother cried–could bring life, with all its promise,
back. Lest the child grow cold, the mother,

feet made fleet, spine steeled, with anxious promise,
rushed from house to house  – have you known mourning?
Known death?  All had mustard seeds – but the mother–

the mother learned then–the promise–of each new morning.

****************************************************

Explanatory note – this is based on a Buddhist tale of the Buddha (coming back after acquiring Buddha-hood) to visit his family at the time his mother lost a young child.  He told her that the child could be brought back to life by a mustard seed coming from a house that had not known death.  The mother could find plenty of mustard seeds – a common spice in India – but no house that had not known death.  This then brought her to some understanding of the universality of suffering, and that, in turn, helped her to accept her grief.  (Yes, it’s a bit hard-hearted; not made for Hollywood.)

Also – the saying “the cup you are drinking from is already broken” refers to the fact that everything comes to an end; that its end is incipient in its beginning.  In other words – the cup is destined to be broken, not that it is actually already chipped.   (That is, unless you’ve taken it from my cupboard.)   

The poem is a tritina – a mini-sestina, that rotates around certain end words, and tries to follow a consistent meter.   I have put in the dashes to slow down the reading of the last line – they don’t really have grammatical significance. 

I am posting this for Tess Kincaid’s Magpie Tales, where Tess posts a photographic prompt each week. 

Categories: poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 34 Comments

“Rebellion – I’ll Tell Them Where I Live”

September 1, 2012

Junk News Speak

Rebellion – I Will Tell Them Where I Live

I.

I will turn off
the TV.
I will not pretend
that horse-race political
prognostications pontificated
by pom-pommed
hair reflect a meaningful analysis
of anything but Nielson ratings.

II.

I will not shrug, saying all
politicians
are the same
anyway.

I will take the time to read
newspapers, even books,

not accepting “lies
for dummies,”
not even settling for “facts”
for dummies, but
acknowledging that
the world is complex no matter
how much
I’d like it to be simple.

III.

I will write letters
to congresspeople, even heads
of state, not
hesitating
to give my return address.

IV.

I will always bear in mind
family members waiting
to be deployed.
I will understand
that persons in other countries also
have families, people
whom they love.

V.

I will not allow the clout
of those spending millions
to quell my two-cent throat,
decide my invaluable vote, and–

I will vote.

I urge you
to do the same.

***********************************

I am posting the above for dVerse Poets Pub Poetics Prompt about “Rebellion” hosted by the wonderful Stu Macpherson. 

I have been disheartened in this campaign by the dishonesty of political discourse.  While it is true that both sides have stretched the truth, the Republicans seem, so far, to be winning in the “pants on fire” race.  As Sally Kohn, a contributor to Fox News – note FOX NEWS – said of Ryan’s convention speech:

“Ryan’s speech was an apparent attempt to set the world record for the greatest number of blatant lies and misrepresentations slipped into a single political speech. On this measure, while it was Romney who ran the Olympics, Ryan earned the gold.”

Check out dVerse and also my books!  Poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, (by Karin Gustafson, illustrated by Diana Barco). 1 Mississippi -counting book for lovers of rivers, light and pachyderms, or Nose Dive, a very fun novel that is perfect for a pool or beachside escape. Nose Dive is available on Kindle for just 99 cents!

Categories: poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 33 Comments

Tundral (Heart)

September 1, 2012

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Tundral

The heart does
take prisoners; hers
housed exiles,
dissidents, a gulag
for thoughts
that once dared speak
their minds; also a lone
scrub pine, leashed
to mewling wind at neck,
at crown, and at its base,
stiff ground.

Roots,
made clumsy by
permafrost, sent still
pale tendrils down,
plaintive missives, towards
warmth, that molten
core so very far below,
while above,
the exiles fumed
as best they could.

****************************************
The above, kind of a draft still, is posted (belated;u) for the writing blog, With Real Toads – challenge by Hannah Goselin to write from voice of Tundra.  I don’t think this quite complies but there it is. 
Check out With Real Toads, and also my books!  Poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, (by Karin Gustafson, illustrated by Diana Barco). 1 Mississippi -counting book for lovers of rivers, light and pachyderms, or Nose Dive, a very fun novel that is perfect for a pool or beachside escape. Nose Dive is available on Kindle for just 99 cents!
Also check out a just-started blog by my very dear friend, Theo Martin – http://knaveslodge.wordpress.com – for advice and commentary on cooking and country life. 

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Comments: 15 Comments

Dogged – Friday Flash 55 – Pearl! -17

August 31, 2012

Dogged

My dog turned 17 yesterday.
Celebrated
by frolicking
down the hall until
she ran into a wall.
(She and I are much alike in that.)

Then, re-gathering paws, balance
dignity, and slightly, but
definitely, altering course,
she frolicked (more gently) on.

(Something, I say, rubbing
my own head’s
old sore spot,
I could learn from.)

*************************************

Pearl says that she didn’t really run into that wall–that she was just investigating it with her forehead.  (She’s quite blind now unfortunately, but amazingly, though usually carefully, intrepid.)  This is an older video of her, at about 15.   17 is older.

The above post is (believe it or not) 55 words!  So go tell it to the G-Man. 

Have a great weekend !

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Comments: 18 Comments

Ground Zero Sight (In new “Freedom Tower”) – Tritina

August 30, 2012

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Ground Zero Sight (In new “Freedom Tower”)

I walked where gaps in late rush hour led,
threading my way through shoulders crowding,
till random retinal rod looked up, saw

moon–not in sky, but in new tower’s glass–saw-
ing from rectangle to round as crowding
panels re-cut and perspective, led

by my tilt of head and careful crowding
steps, re-shaped; and, for once, the site did not saw
my chest in two– hewn norm since that morning of lead —

but led to wonder, crowding out (for moonrise moment) what–I saw.
*****************************************************
Agh!  the last line was originally intended to run over into the next – but the runover would not be indented so settled for dash.  Also, original version of this post used “that” instead of “what” which I think was a bit more confusing than the “what.” 

The above is a “tritina”, a form of mini-sestina, that repeats in intersecting order the last words of the line. I am posting it for the dVerse Poets Pub “Form For All” challenge hosted today by the wonderful craftsman Samuel Peralta (a/k/a Semaphore).

The photo taken last night on my iPhone shows the new Freedom Tower being built at Ground Zero to replace the old World Trade Center. I was startled to see the reflection of the moon in the lower left hand corner – it’s that small round speck there. It shifted, of course, as I moved, especially given the right-angled glass panels.

The photo below is the view from the other side.

Check out dVerse, Sam’s article on Tritinas and my books! Poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, (by Karin Gustafson, illustrated by Diana Barco). 1 Mississippi -counting book for lovers of rivers, light and pachyderms, or Nose Dive, a very fun novel that is perfect for a pool or beachside escape. Nose Dive is available on Kindle for just 99 cents!

Categories: 9/11, poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 29 Comments

“Place of Peace That Passed Understanding” in 25 words!

August 29, 2012

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Place of Peace That Passed Understanding

The portion of mother’s lap
corresponding to that stretch
upon the Buddha (then
unknown to me) where he rests
his open hand, her
cool fingers.

*******************************************

I am posting the above for a Real Toads poetic “Words Matter” challenge by the  wonderful Mama Zen to write about an image that recurs in my work in 25 words or less. I may have cheated a bit with the long title.   The images I started out with: Buddha hands and the idea of a child resting her head on her mother’s lap, images that both are in a few of my poems.  Here’s one specifically about Buddha Hands.   

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Comments: 21 Comments

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