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although she'd never spoke of them

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Uploaded on Jan 5, 2010

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Poetry

"So, what do you do?"
“I’m a poet, I write poetry.”
“You make a living doing that?”
“No, I made a life.”

*

Working on a farm when I was young,
watering the cuttings in the greenhouse,
pausing to sip the cold well water ---
It’s sweet limestone taste still lingers all these years.


*

Standing on a catwalk one hundred feet above
the North Terminal floor at Newark Airport
hanging illuminated stars as Christmas decorations;
viewed from below, the heavens within.

*

As a young architect learning less is more
and God is in the details and understanding
the order of the visual and the functional
form a rhythm that suddenly become a hymn.

*

And today, offered a slice of freshly cut pastrami
from the deli-man preparing my sandwich,
the proud look upon his face, the warmth of
the meat, I’m once again reminded...

"... Now that's poetry!"

***

Poetry
© 2010 R. P. Weissner

View On Black

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Uploaded on Jan 3, 2010

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Blackwater

At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled
after a night of rain.
I dip my cupped hands, I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stones, leaves, fire. It falls cold
into my body, waking the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing
that just happened?

--- Mary Oliver

On Black

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Uploaded on Jan 2, 2010

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Pizzelles

... with post processing technical assistance from the very talented Lida Chaulet

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Uploaded on Jan 1, 2010

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