Birthing a Day

Posted on May 7, 2014 by Jim Stewart

You can hear the ocean
early in the morning from here,
this house hunkered on the hill,
the back side of Soledad Mountain.
Mexico is way out there and
the lights of downtown muted
by salt air rising from Mission Bay.
This should feel like home.

The sun changes everything
as it scales the mountains,
spills down canyons,
and sets the clouds afire.
I watch the burn.
Traffic noise rises and
defeats the ocean as it will
again this time tomorrow.

My heart is steady.
There is comfort in birthing a day, but
internal combustion is loud,
as is making light and heating homes.
We drive through our days, never
considering how deafness burgeons.
We are too many and we miss hearing home,
the blood and ocean in our ears.

ocean-at-night

mission bay

 

(ocean: curiositiesbydickens.com; Mission Bay: panaramo.com)

Posted in Consciousness, Conversation, Humans, Poem, sunrise | Tagged , , , | 7 Comments

Parenting a Snowlady

Posted on May 6, 2014 by Jim Stewart

She crafted the snowman
all by herself.
I was there to just lift

the second big snowball
and head too,
but she helped with that,

telling me which side
was the front.
“Do you think the head is crooked?”

“Do you think it is?”
“Yeah, kinda, but that’s
how I want it.”

I waited.
“It makes her unique,”
she finally said.

“Now, let’s make her face.”
I helped, but it
wasn’t my snowlady.

I knew she never would be.

snow-lady

lady-in-red

(snowlady: traceypaddison.com; scene: telegraph.co.uk)

Posted in parents, Poem, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Haiku–All Hearts

Posted on May 1, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Thank you for this me.
Thank you for what I must learn.
Thank you for all hearts.

Gratitude

gratitude_harte

(top: switchandshift.com; bottom: penandbell.com)

Posted in Consciousness, Conversation, Haiku, Poem | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Haiku–Tomorrow Comes

Posted on April 30, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Did not write a poem
today; only wrote a verse.
Tomorrow comes soon.

tomorrow

tommorrow2

(top from examinetheglass.com; bottom from isuma.tv)

Posted in Haiku, Morning, Poem, Writing | Tagged , | 3 Comments

Frame of Reference

Posted on April 29, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Framed by reference:
to conform or depart,
leaving a trail of bread in my wake.
Fearful of the limb end and
of not getting lost, I walk on.

The familiar holds little comfort, yet
the wild universe feels like home.
Small hearts wing my way.
Frequencies strung with information
rain through my mind
and hold my shadows behind the sun.

A crow caws my name;
I do not answer.
The poet has no words.

breacrumbs

crow caw

 

(breadcrumbs: wordwatch.com; crow: telegraph.co.uk)

 

Posted in Birds, crow, Poem, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Hello Humanity

Posted on April 28, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Decrepitude, ineptitude, in a mood:
Grateful for humor that
greases buzzing blades
spattering soul’s blood
across the walls of my heart.

Sometimes, humility seems a bitter pill.

That bitterness should remind:
it has nothing to do with humble
and everything to do with clutching false pride.

Always, humility is a clear breath.

humble images

Gearhart-18TH_GREEN_MORNING

(clouds: chasingamiracle.com; 18th green: sandandseaoregon.com)

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

Blank Page

Posted on April 26, 2014 by Jim Stewart

The blank page stares.
It knows your weakness,

is your weakness.
It knows how you felt when

you shot that small songbird
when you were ten.

It knows how you were drawn:
smudged charcoal lines,

very little ink, almost no color.
Somehow, the bounce in your step

survived and you discovered how
recognizing your own ignorance

was a gift that eased your hunger.

charcoal bird

charcoal-grilling

(bird from etsy.com; charcoal from barbecueorboogaloo.com)

Posted in Birds, Consciousness, Humans, Man, Poem, Writing | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Unplug

Posted on April 25, 2014 by Jim Stewart

To play unplugged:
acoustic music,
the sounds of wood and steel,
heart voicing recognition.
To share, often, you must plug.
Is the music still unplugged?

Plugged in:
social media to promote;
promote what for what? recognition?
fame? approval? money? What?
Follow the music.
I am uplugging.
Now.

unplug1 unplug2

 

SnowyOwl1

(cyborg: 123rf.com; owl: visittheoregoncoast.com)

 

Posted in Consciousness, Humans, Music, Oregon, Poem, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments

Ease Easy

Posted on April 22, 2014 by Jim Stewart

To find a place of ease
is not easy.

Step outside your comfort zone
I’m told. Do those things
few people are willing to do.

Nurture your dream;
do not relent.

Have confidence in your humility.

dream-quotes

dream2

(umbrella from parkirsaha.blogspot.com; bench from butnowwhat.com)

Posted in Consciousness, Dream, Poem, Slice of Life, Work | Tagged , , | 5 Comments

Wide Open

Posted on April 21, 2014 by Jim Stewart

(Note: My kids will be at Wrigley this Wednesday, April 23, 2014, for the 100-year celebration. It’s my daughter’s gift to my son for his 30th birthday.–jrs)

A century ago
a ballpark opened
in Chicago, on the north side.
My children will be there to celebrate.
I was born thirty-six years
later on the south side.
If I live a century
I am hopeful of another celebration
complete with baseball and a
wide open field.

Wrigley

wrigley_field

Jess-Ben-on-WrigleyField

 

(upper from fanfoodie.blogspot.com; middle from chicago.cubs.mlb.com; lower: Jess and Ben behind Home Plate)

Posted in family, Poem | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments