Tag Archives: humanity

Reminders in Early July

Posted on July 4, 2014 by Jim Stewart

(The Fourth is a grand holiday. It’s my sister’s birthday. We live in a truly great country where we are mostly safe and enjoy opportunities rare in the big picture. Most often, I am proud to be American. But…  –jrs) … Continue reading →

Posted in American history, memory, Poem | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Geologic

Posted on June 29, 2014 by Jim Stewart

The air is soft and breathes better than anywhere else I could possibly be; there is no pressure from behind, no pressure to the west on this fine grey morning. The horizon is a line bound only by my imagination … Continue reading →

Posted in Beach, Earthquake/Tsunami, Oregon | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments

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)

Posted in Food, Haiku, Home, Music, Poem, Writing | Tagged | Leave a comment

Lame Coyote Before Dawn

Posted on May 16, 2014 by Jim Stewart

You are surprised to see me. I stand by the black motorcycle as you hobble down the steep asphalt, your right-rear more of a rudder than a leg. You freeze, head low, tail down. We regard each other. “Deer kick … Continue reading →

Posted in Coyote, Humans, Morning, Poem, Wildlife | 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 … Continue reading →

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 … Continue reading →

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

Judgment

Posted on April 19, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Judgment follows observation. I wish it were not so; an ancient directive to protect the body, to evaluate threat, a hard-wired alarm. The mind rides along. Sometimes, the mind convinces the body to do something crazy, something to flood the … Continue reading →

Posted in American history, Consciousness, Friendship, Humans, Poem | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Parts

Posted on April 8, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Admiring a woman’s parts: curve of derriere, swell of breast, turn of legs, smooth of back, arch of neck, all clichés in a greater whole. When I am lost in cliché, my shrug says I’m hard-wired to look. It’s admiration, … Continue reading →

Posted in Consciousness, Man, Poem, Woman | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Buddy the Elk Speaks Again

Posted on December 1, 2013 by Jim Stewart

Dear Narb, Saw you splitting wood the other day. You did wave and I thank you for that, but then you bared your teeth at me, which I found a bit disconcerting. I didn’t see or smell any fear or … Continue reading →

Posted in Letters from elsewhere, Slice of Life, Speculative Fantasy | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment