Category Archives: Home

Haiku–Red and Green

Posted on June 1, 2016 by Jim Stewart

Bleeding from twenty small cuts on my arms and legs; yard work has a price. (www.osoti.net)

Posted in family, Haiku, Home, Oregon, Uncategorized, Work | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Haiku–Brick and Mortar

Posted on May 30, 2015 by Jim Stewart

Bricks upon more bricks; playing with mud holds them tight. Sore: understatement. (brick: obsidiandesign.com; circle: backdoorsurvival.com)

Posted in Home, Masonry, Work | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Imagination

Posted on March 7, 2015 by Jim Stewart

The freeway is the ocean, the stars are just as high, but fewer. I am tired, but can still pretend what is real is somewhere near, not a lifetime away. My imagination saves me again.   (top: en.wikipedia.org; bottom: lovethesepics.com)

Posted in Home, Oregon, Portland, Slice of Life, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Haiku–Drying Wrack

Posted on February 2, 2015 by Jim Stewart

Standing in the rain is different if you don’t have a dry home place.

Posted in Haiku, Home, Poem | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

My Urban Life

Posted on December 28, 2014 by Jim Stewart

The east wind blows cold, ruffling the hair where it lays against my ears. It smells of fir, river, and traffic. My urban life is a friend with whom I often argue. I always question my place in it. Answers … Continue reading →

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Haiku–Last Leg

Posted on November 24, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Last leg underway; the roar is on the outside; both my ears are full.   (top: postadvertising.com; bottom: seatmaestro.com)

Posted in Home, Oregon, Poem, Travel | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Haiku–Plumby Dummy

Posted on November 6, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Plumbing is my bane: water seeks its own level, just out of my reach.

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Haiku–My Life: A Full Meal Deal

Posted on June 11, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Writing is the meat. Music is vegetables. Reading for dessert.   (kabobs: halfhourmeals.com; pecan pie: myfrienddebbie.com)

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Homecoming

Posted on May 30, 2014 by Jim Stewart

The grass, bent with breeze, wets my shoes and pantlegs. It tastes of salt and smells of rain as I stand sinking into the sand beneath. My knees are calm, my heart bright; my senses know when I am home. … Continue reading →

Posted in Beach, Home, Humans, Oregon, Poem | Tagged , , , , , | 8 Comments