Untitled

[rogermoorepoet]

(via Not Enough)

Even an old dog like me can learn a new trick or two.

[rogermoorepoet]

Not Enough

Not EnoughA Jackpine SonnetIs it enough to treat peopleas if they were equals,when some need much moreattention than others?Think colds, flu, bronchitis,pneumonia, covid. Equaltreatment no longer works. We need to see each personas an individual needingexclusive care, a unique style.We must let them knowthat they are not lost and alone,that they will be approachedindividually, each and every…

View On WordPress

[rogermoorepoet]

(via FIFA)

Que lo creas tú.

[rogermoorepoet]

FIFA

FIFAA Jackpine Sonnet elbows on the tablemy hands clasped aroundthis soccer ballI call my skull its global reachthe totality of allI hold and knowand understand past gameslong forgottengone the skillsof which I was so proud my life the circumferenceof this paneled circlewrinkled and peeling the ancient onion skinsof old corruptionsnewly found Comment: Moo calls this painting, which he…

View On WordPress

[rogermoorepoet]

(via Carnival)

If Moo can do it, so can you.

[rogermoorepoet]

Carnival

Carnival: Bakhtin’s Carnival – the world turned upside down and inside out. And here it is. Moo has painted an upside down world. From the above angle, the world is full of birds and is “as crazy as the birds“. Lovely image. There they go, birds of a feather, flocking together, soaring, sinking, doing what birds do when they are as crazy as bat shit – and Moo told me, he nearly gave his painting…

View On WordPress

[rogermoorepoet]

(via Questions)

Question – what is the first sign of madness?

[rogermoorepoet]

Questions

QuestionsJackpine Sonnet each time you see a shooting stara child is born or an angel fallsswarms of them in certain seasonswhen our planet sails throughthe meteor belt and rocks burn upas they fall to earth through air and fire written in the stars they sayand everyday I read my horoscopeto see what lies in stallor rather what fate will me befall warmth and love perhaps yet whatdo cold…

View On WordPress

[rogermoorepoet]

(via Anywhere)

"Know thy self!" So easy to say, but not so easy to do.

[rogermoorepoet]

Anywhere

AnywhereJackpine Sonnet I knew you the first dayI saw you. I knew your heartbefore you could open it upand let me in. I knew your soulbefore you allowed meto touch its beauty’s depth. Did I know you from anotherlife? I just don’t know. I onlyknow that I knew who you wereand what you meant to me. Once I saw you, how could I letyou go? I reached across the bridgethat spans the ages and saw youas…

View On WordPress

[rogermoorepoet]

(via Windmill)

Spiritus mundi – the great world spirit

[rogermoorepoet]

Windmill

WindmillJackpine Sonnet When the scales fell from my eyesI stood on them and wonderedwhat I weighed on the time’s great scales. Miniscule. A featherweight.A dandelion seed blown on the windthat whirls the world through space. Spiritus mundi – the great world spiritinflating my lungs, each breatha glimpse of the infinitecombining in my body and soul. The sails of a windmill, my arms,and the…

View On WordPress

[rogermoorepoet]

(via Black Dog)

But are meanings meaningful or meaningless?

[rogermoorepoet]

Black Dog

Black Dog The black dog leaps outof the grandmother clockand lands on my back. His paws grip my shoulders,then rake down my spine. I try to shake him off,but he growls, bares his teeth,and won’t let go. I love that clock,its Westminster chimes,the Roman numeralsstanding guardover the pointed arrowsof the hands as they marchround and round. But I hate the houndthat makes its kennelin the…

View On WordPress

[rogermoorepoet]

(via Night Thoughts)

You’ve never heard of a three bear night?

[rogermoorepoet]

Night Thoughts

Night ThoughtsJackpine Sonnet Alive, the house,with creaks and groans,doors, windows, floorboards,all in the minor key,soft and low. Walls give forth a seriesof squeaks akin to mouse songsmouthed at midnight. Who’s there? Was thata footstep on the stair?Nobody replies.I wonder sometimes what soundsmy guardian angel makesas he does his rounds. Sometimes in the cool of the nightI think I sense…

View On WordPress

[rogermoorepoet]

(via Tomorrow's Words)

tomorrow’s words, tomorrow’s song, yet to be sung