Author Archives: Jim Stewart
Rumbling About
I can sit on my motorcycle, rumbling down Coast Highway 101, following my front tire to Seaside. As long as there is road, sometimes it isn’t possible to discover a reason to stop. Clustered memories can explode into other years … Continue reading
Liebster Award Nomination
Hmm…Poetry 365 nominated me for a Liebster Award. I’m stunned. Thank you, Nathan. Did I say I’m stunned? https://Poetry-365.com is a wonderful blog, full of thought, emotion, and humor (American spelling :-)), and yeah, poetry. The Rules Thank the blogger … Continue reading
get on the bus.
Originally posted on I didn't have my glasses on….:
what an adventure it would be to travel on the ‘make america kind again’ bus ? — “human kindness has never weakened the stamina or softened the figure of a…
Just Wear the Damn Mask
Don’t breathe on me! I am deeply flawed and your breath could carry me to a far shore where my friends won’t find me. Your cavalier ignorance defies kindness and care. Your harm is wanton. Do you miss home that … Continue reading
Haiku: Ninety or Nothin’
(For my friend and compadre Bud Hedrick on his 90th birthday, May 22. ~JimS) Birthdays and race dayscan both have the same feeling:ninety or nothin’ (Motorcycle: checkers.com; Bud and Jim: Jim; and go visit https://budhedrick.blogspot.com/)
Birth Times: Two
(Another essay tired of languishing without a home. ~JimS) As far as mysteries go, birth is the only event I can think of that rivals death in its head-scratching miraculous reality. Humans make a big deal of it. I don’t … Continue reading
In Her Wings
(for John Prine) The Universe held mein her wings today;I could feel her heart beatright next to mine.She gathered all my sadnessand tucked it awaysomewhere out past JupiterI couldn’t find. Sometimes you just haveto give it up,accept the help you … Continue reading
Haiku: Days of Sand
Sand under my wheels–Ain’t no words for how it feels–Just one of those deals. (Photo: Narble Furt)
Haiku: Each Breath
Gratitude for each breath is a verse that goes onuntil the song ends. Be well; be safe; be kind. (Photo: Narble Furt)
The Quiet
Another essay I want to share. I’d rather have it sit here on narble.blog than hide in my directory structure. ~JimS. It’s late evening. I’m standing on a front porch in Gearhart, Oregon, on the dune I’ve come to call … Continue reading