"Universal Love". a VD poem

"Universal Love"

a VD poem

I see through the nebula of your mind, 

the answers to questions asked by mankind.

Your eyes are tide pools of heavenly bodies and stars,

stretching from the Milky Way to Venus and Mars.

My senses are in tune with The Planets, you see, 

be it the Messenger, the Mystic, the Magician - all three.

This form you have taken, how it tempts to destroy,

twisting my rational thoughts into those of a boy.

The door to your soul - out of respect for Janus,

...Oh my! Could it be...was that Uranus?

Copyright 2017 Jeffrey James Ircink

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"The Swimmers"

During one hot day at work last week, I heard children's voices and laughter. So I wrote this:

"The Swimmers"

by Jeffrey James Ircink

The sun beats down hard - unrelenting.

I react with a sigh of despair.

I wipe the sweat from my brow - take a cool drink,

and rue this day of days, wondering when it will

come to an end.

Who shares my plight? Who pities my condition?

Certainly not those angelic voices I hear breaking

through the dense heat of the day.

No, not the children - whose laughter suggests

their hearts beat in rhythm to a solitary

thought and motion, as they jump and frolic

and shout and swim.

Droplets bead down their faces -

faces the heat quickly dries -

only to once again plunge into their 

liquid refreshment again and again...and again.

I recall with fondness the days when I did the same -

felt the same.

I know how those children feel;

I know what they are thinking.

Do they know what I am thinking?

Do they care what I was once them?

Oh-h-h God...how I hate the swimmers.

© Copyright 2016 Jeffrey James Ircink

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"maureen". a haiku.

her name was maureen.

"it's not you - it's me," i said.

i can still smell her.

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"Anthophilatinction"

"Anthophilatinction"

by Jeffrey James Ircink

Bumble bees and mason bees and ground bees three,

Yellow jackets, paper wasps and hornets after me.

Big bees, little bees

Busy bees that swarm.

Pollinating here and there, ‘specially when it’s warm.

Bees in your bonnet

And bees in your knees.

Buzzin’ in the flowers 

And buzzin’ in the trees.

Workers and drones and queens, oh my!

A sting in your finger is better than your eye!

Making sweet honey deep in their bee hives,

That’s all they do with the short, hectic lives.

Apathy is pleasant when it doesn’t bother you,

But when the bees have died away – you’ll be dead too.

photo by Jeffrey James Ircink 2015

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Happy Days, Walt!

And what a grand 195 years it has been! Happy Birthday, Walt Whitman...you sweet, dear old man. I love you.

"To A Stranger"

by Walt Whitman

Passing stranger! you do not know

How longingly I look upon you,

You must be he I was seeking,

Or she I was seeking

(It comes to me as a dream)

I have somewhere surely

Lived a life of joy with you,

All is recall'd as we flit by each other,

Fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,

You grew up with me,

Were a boy with me or a girl with me,

I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become

not yours only nor left my body mine only,

You give me the pleasure of your eyes,

face, flesh as we pass,

You take of my beard, breast, hands,

in return,

I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you

when I sit alone or wake at night, alone

I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again

I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

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narcissist.

Look at them....posing like that. It's all about them. "Take my picture, Jeff...look how pretty I am!" Narcissists.

"Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed,..."

- excerpt from Walt Whitman's "Give Me the Splendid Silent Sun"

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dirty limerick.

 

 

My first stab at a limerick. Ever.

 

 "There once was an actor named Hap
who came down with a case of the clap
his ingénue amused,
'a rubber we should’ve used'
with the wife, his clap caused a flap"

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Haiku #813

Back to your tree, ye!
Impetuous! Homeric!
‘Tis midsummer, see?

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"Soon Shall the Winter's Foil Be Here".

It's true when they say that the simplest things in life sometimes bring us the most joy.

"Soon Shall the Winter's Foil Be Here"
By Walt Whitman

Soon shall the winter's foil be here;
Soon shall these icy ligatures unbind and melt—A little while,
And air, soil, wave, suffused shall be in softness, bloom and growth—a thousand forms shall rise
From these dead clods and chills as from low burial graves.
Thine eyes, ears—all thy best attributes—all that takes
cognizance of natural beauty,
Shall wake and fill. Thou shalt perceive the simple shows, the delicate miracles of earth,
Dandelions, clover, the emerald grass, the early
scents and flowers,
The arbutus under foot, the willow's yellow-green,
the blossom- ing plum and cherry;
With these the robin, lark and thrush, singing their
songs—the flitting bluebird;
For such the scenes the annual play brings on.

(Video shot at Good Hope Cemetery in Greenfield, Wisconsin)

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Happy Veterans Day.

To my father - all those who have served - thank you. The poet Walt Whitman wrote extensively on the Civil War. Here is an excerpt:

"O strong dead-march you please me!
O moon immense with your silvery face you soothe me!
O my soldiers twain! O my veterans passing to burial!
What I have I also give you.

The moon gives you light,
And the bugles and the drums give you music,
And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans,
My heart gives you love."

from "Dirge for Two Veterans", Drumtaps, from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass

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Fall.

 

"The winds will blow their own freshness into you,
and the storms their energy,
while cares will drop away from you
like the leaves of Autumn."

- John Muir

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"For I am Love....", by Thomas M. Ircink

I am like the rose of red, in its purest beauty and yet

can be so ugly that on one dare look upon me.

I have shape and form, still I am found without either.

I am as happy as a river going to places not known to men,

I am as sad as all the tears that can be shed.

I am kind, yet can be harsh.

I am gentle yet can cause the greatest of hurts,

I am found in all places and in all things, yet I am found

only by those who seek me.

There is but one key that can open my door, one word that

need be spoken and I shall understand.

I am many things and still I am one.

I am more yet the least of things, but what is more true

than false is that I am that scar, which no doctor can heal.

For I am love.

My Uncle Tom (one year younger than Dad) passed away in 2003 at the age of 65. He enjoyed writing poetry. I never knew. Some of his brothers and sister were aware of Uncle Tom's penchant for writing; however, and Aunt Evelyn gave me all his papers - the plan is to put together a self-published book of Uncle Tom's poetry.

Happy Valentine's Day, Uncle Tom. I - we all miss you.

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Ode to Christmas...by Chuck Kramer

NPR's been playing this for 20 years. Kramer changes it from time to time to reflect the pop culture of that particular season.

Lord …and Taylor. Anne Taylor. Anne Klein, Calvin Klein, Cuisinart, Wal-Mart, cotton-polyester, budget stretcher, store-wide, half-off, all sales final, simulated wood-grain vinyl. 12 months interest-free, HD, 3D, 4G, Blue-Ray, Bluetooth, LCD, LED, WiFi, hot-spot, buy a Kindle, or a Nook. Nintendo, Guitar Hero, waterproof, oven-proof, shockproof, 90-proof, down the hatch, dollar-a-batch, doesn’t match, helter-skelter, Alka-Seltzer. Amazon, BestBuy, eBay, Abercrombie, shopping zombie, UPS, CVS, JVC, DVD, GE, GI Joe, Axe, Fax, TJ Maxx, Timex, FedEx, AmEx, Gortex, X-Box, Reeboks, Ink-Jet, Polartec, J Crew, Jean Nate, Cachet, Faberge, Gourmet, Old Spice, LL Bean, I-Pad, I-Pod, I-Zod, Egad! Polo, Play-Doh, Lego, Tickle Me Elmo, Casio, Hasbro, Tyco, Tonka, Barbie, Dolby, Duracell, Eveready, rechargeable, returnable, recordable, portable, digital, trivial pursuit. London Fog, Canadian Club, Scotch Tape, Irish Mist, English Leather, Russian Vodka, Stolichnaya, Sterling Silver, Lady Schick, sure-stick, non-stick, Water-Pik, Shreve, Crump, Low watt, crock, pot. Cotton Dockers? Guess. One Day Sale, Buy Two, Three-speed, Four-slice, Saks Fifth Ave, Windows 7, Nine-volt, Ten-speed, 12-cup, Building 19, 1-800, kilo, mega, giga, tera, byte, white sale, infra-red, Walgreens, Black Friday. Black and Decker, Spelling checker, What the heck, Deck the halls with Hitachi, Mitsubishi, Sansui, Fuji, Sony, Seiko, Samsung, Panasonic, instant classic, automatic, anti-static, alkaline, online, nine to nine, Calvin Klein, Anne Klein, Anne & Hope, Anne Taylor, Lord & Taylor. Good Lord. What have we done to Christmas?

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december 1. frozen.

"Soon shall the winter’s foil be here;

Soon shall these icy ligatures unbind and melt — A little while..."

excerpt from, "Soon Shall the Winter's Foil Be Here",
by Walt Whitman, from Leaves of Grass, 1888.

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leaves + water + porcelain bucket.

"Memories"

How sweet the silent backward tracings!

The wanderings as in dreams - the meditation of old times resumed - their loves, joys, persons, voyages.

by Walt Whitman, from Leaves of Grass, 1891-92

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Happy Birthday, Jeff!

It's my birthday today. 2:34 p.m. 1964. Some years I get into it and some years it's just another day. That's me 46 years ago. Now that's a good lookin' kid, come on. Listen to my "happy song" here.

There was a child went forth every day;

And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became;

And that object became part of him for the day,
or a certain part of the day,
or for many years, or stretching cycles of years.

- excerpt from Walt Whitmans "There Was A Child Went Forth", from Leaves of Grass (1891-1892)

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We're not done with you, Summer....

"Continuities" 

Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost,

No birth, identity, form—no object of the world.

Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing;

Appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse thy brain.

Ample are time and space—ample the fields of Nature.

The body, sluggish, aged, cold—the embers left from earlier

fires,

The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again;

The sun now low in the west rises for mornings and for noons

continual;

To frozen clods ever the spring's invisible law returns,

With grass and flowers and summer fruits and corn.

- by Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1891-91 edition

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Happy Birthday, Mom!

"I see the sleeping babe nestling the breast of

its mother, The sleeping mother and babe -

hush'd, I study them long and long."

- "Mother and Babe" , by Walt Whitman 

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"As the Time Draws Nigh"...for a friend.

As the time draws nigh, glooming, a cloud,

A dread beyond, of I know not what, darkens me.

I shall go forth,

I shall traverse The States awhile - but I cannot tell whither or

how long;

Perhaps soon, some day or night while I am singing, my voice

will suddenly cease.

O book, O chants! must all then amount to but this?

Must we barely arrive at this beginning of us?...And yet it

is enough, O soul !

O soul ! we have positively appear'd - that is enough.

From Walt Whitman's "Songs of Parting", Leaves of Grass, 1865.

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Like minds...on Whitman.

From Wild Blue Yonder (Jennifer's packing list) -

Books - When I travel on location I always have Walt Whitman's
Leaves of Grass with me. I love it; it calms me in ways I can't explain.

Go figure. You can do a search of "Walt Whitman" in the upper left corner of this blog for my Whitman smatterings.

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