Author Archives: Jim Stewart

About Jim Stewart

Writer at Butt in Chair

The Time I Did Not Give Brian Doyle a Piggy-Back Ride

I’m staying with the Brian theme one more time.–jrs Writers write, but authors have to do other stuff as well. Some of that stuff involves traveling around, reading some of what you’ve written, and discussing the sometimes mysterious differences between … Continue reading

Posted in Brian Doyle, Conversation, humor, laughing, memory, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | 9 Comments

A prayer for my friend Brian Doyle and my grandpuppy Toulouse

This uses the form Brian invented for his Book of Uncommon Prayer and is used here out of deep profound respect–jrs Who never met but I would offer a few years off my life to watch them measure each other. … Continue reading

Posted in Brian Doyle, Catholicism, Dogs, Otters, prayer, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments

Muselessness

I’m supposed to be finishing a novel but I’m not. It’s a murky late summer day with an uncertain sky and a directionally challenged breeze smelling of salt and fir, marsh and cedar. My characters are all hovering around the … Continue reading

Posted in Absolutes, animals, Brian Doyle, Dog, Dogs, Gratitude, Novel, Slice of Life, Uncategorized, William Stafford, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 16 Comments

“Mister…?”

A young boy, dressed in clean but threadbare jeans and a shirt that might have once been red, took in my leathers and my road-weary black Harley. He then shot me a look that was older than he was. “Mister? … Continue reading

Posted in Action-adventure, Aging, Conversation, Harley Davdson, Life, men, Motorcycles, Narble Furt, Riding, Slice of Life, story excerpt, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

Cleavage Trap

Her passionate eyesheld mine as she elegantlyvoiced her heart’s intent.When she looked awayI snuck a peek into her cleavageand immediately looked up,embarrassed, apologizingto the sky and allthe women in my heart.But I chanced another glance as soon as I could. … Continue reading

Posted in boobs, cleavage, Friendship, Humans, humor, laughing, men, Narble Furt, Poem, Satire, women | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

Quiet Despair

The mirror barksa noiseless disdain;the backward eyesshadow quiet despair;a vacancy of intent, wherea blink hides nothing. (image: the americanconservative.com)

Posted in Aging, anger, Brain, Hope, Humans, Life, Poem, Right now, Uncategorized, Wisdom | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Amble du Jour

The dog catches my eyeand whines his question:“Now, Boss, now?”An idea: the smell of saltopens my mind.I laugh and nod.He stands with a clatterof claws on hardwood,tail high and boisterous, ashe prances around the couch.His eager head presses throughthe red … Continue reading

Posted in animals, Beach, Dog, Dogs, family, Friendship, Gratitude, Morning, Ocean, Oregon, pals, Poem, walking | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Universe Understood

Consciousness,the universe is–a way to understandand make small enougha vastness into parts.Your mind will nevergrasp the whole, no,that is a feelingfor your soulto warm whencold clasps your heartand galaxies never seenseem almost familiarand close enoughto nod acquaintance.Understanding isaccepting you cannot.

Posted in Absolutes, Art, Brain, Consciousness, Humans, Poem, Quantum flash, Uncategorized, Universe | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Tag, I’m It

Birds play tag:close-drill flitting,chasers suddenly chasedat the flick of a feather.I laugh;my mind flips like they do,but without their agility.I am honored to watch,bathed in their game,humored with their compassion. (photo: avopix.com)

Posted in Birds, Brain, Flying, Gratitude, Humans, humor, Joy, laughing, Poem, Wildlife | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Looking Up

(for William Stafford) Your poems run the gamut;you have blessed us with musicof realization and understanding.Many of those poems were bornon your couch, lying on your back,looking up at your journal.Really? Their birth is asastonishing as their venerable lives.

Posted in Art, birth, Gratitude, Music, Oregon, Poem, Poetry, Uncategorized, William Stafford, Writing | Tagged , , | 2 Comments