Category Archives: Writing

Concentration Face

Posted on December 13, 2014 by Jim Stewart

My concentrating face is a frown. This has always been so. When I am deep in contemplation people who don’t know me assume that I am incalculably sad; they worry over my spirit, not seeing how my deep engagement has … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Humans, Poem, Work, Writing | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

Growing On

Posted on December 8, 2014 by Jim Stewart

(Note: this poem is from a writing workshop I took with Kim Stafford: “Daily Writing in the Tradition of William Stafford.” It borrows the form of William Stafford’s poem “Growing Up.”–jrs) I travel in concentric circles, it’s just how I’m … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Humans, Poem, Writing | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Haiku–Writing Wherever

Posted on November 1, 2014 by Jim Stewart

(Note: you should check out Daniel von der Embse’s blog at writinginairplanes.com. jrs) To write or to nap; my home away from my home: writing in airplanes. Writing this journal wherever I’m traveling: working the home front. (top: pinterest.com; bottom: … Continue reading →

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A Sequence Spoken

Posted on October 10, 2014 by Jim Stewart

A poet is a person who makes snapshots, moments in a sequence spoken like the tree falling in the forest: kinetic images for who would listen. Judgment has little to do with truth; merit is wholly subjective. We align if … Continue reading →

Posted in Consciousness, Music, Poem, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Unruly Rodeo

Posted on October 7, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Oh, to be a careful writer, dotting eyes and crossing tees, always sure of being ruly as my thoughts tumble to the page in ordered eloquence, perfectly coiffed and savored by readers as fine wine. Reality, though, finds this notion … Continue reading →

Posted in Poem, Rodeo, Work, Writing | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Thin Ice

Posted on October 1, 2014 by Jim Stewart

The ice lets me know it’s not ready with a peculiar noise: half crack, half echo. My heart freezes and climbs through my throat into my head, where it tries to look out from my nostrils. My gut stays calm; … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Hope, Poem, Writing | Tagged , , , | 7 Comments

Water and Rock

Posted on September 3, 2014 by Jim Stewart

The head winds in these times: a gale blown in from the south drives the sea to a craggy appointment. It makes a shuttered room clean, just enough light to warm pen and paper bound with years and a hum … Continue reading →

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Contact

Posted on September 1, 2014 by Jim Stewart

I write for people awake. I don’t have to yell. Some of our herd: I see their eyes flash; they know they don’t know, but are not afraid. More is heard than said. The thread glows and goes and grows, … Continue reading →

Posted in Consciousness, Humans, Poem, Writing | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Haiku–Sticky Feet

Posted on August 13, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Social media: a flypaper walk all day. Such is selling books. (from fredcavazza.net)

Posted in Addiction, Work, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

No Reading Tonight

Posted on August 4, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Sitting on the bed is like winning the lottery; the pillows beckon and the fetus I sometimes am will curl and sigh. The book at my bedside beckons, also, with insight and grace. The poet I am sighs. Carefully, I … Continue reading →

Posted in Oregon, Poem, Reading, Slice of Life, Writing | Tagged , | 3 Comments