Dry Central California

Heaven

#

I imagine heaven

as bedecked with lilacs,

white and purple,

and filled

with their perfume.

California

 
Gracefully

wintergreen hillsides fade

to lustrous gold

where grass has grown

and gone to seed

on westfacing slopes.

There where afternoon sun

lingers long

accross the planes

and strong springwinds blow.

#

While washing dishes
I observed
Maple leaves dancing
On stiff evening breezes

I lost myself
For just a moment
Only to find myself
Again whole


john rouleau

#

fuck no poems
only work worry
and exhaustion

got to keep the faith
though

tilling my fields
will eventually
bare fruit

#

A canopy
of scented lilacs
in full bloom reflect light
in pink
and lavender.

Perfect lilies of the valley
with tiny bells of white
softly chiming, grow
in moist shade beneath
emergent ferns whose feathered leaves
unroll magically
in slow motion.

All this and more
as Spring sings! Her colors - joyous.
The lovely opposite
of winter's paler palette.

Happy Spring, y'all!

Lilacs and Lilies

#

Scented lilacs
in full bloom.
Perfect lilies
of the valley.
The lovely opposite
of winter's paler palette.

At the Chinese Cemetery

#

At the Chinese cemetery during the season for remembering,
the smell of incense. Several generations
leave flowers and dumplings on headstones
and burn spirit money to send it on
to ancestors. In the columns of smoke,
like ashes, roiling
flecks of black and white –
seagulls and crows float
like ghostly shadows.

Flat Rock

#

Heretofore dry winter
has been making up for lost time
It's been raining
for about a month
like a cow peeing on a flat rock.

#

Dear sister
in your alcoholic stupor
you drift into the fetid past
we shared as children

when i call
please
don't bring me back

there

remind me of the river
the change of seasons
the great migrations above us
we watched when so small
and innocent
and pure

remind me of crabapple trees
and plum
running from yard-to-yard
from dawn till dusk
with the neighbor kids

a long string of family dogs
and again

the river.

#

Tired winter longs
to be wrapped
in summer's
warm blanket.

#

In the calm btween the storms, skies clear, the day warms. Hawks are called into the sky; from far below I watch them fly. Crows give chase and do their best to push the hawks away from nests. I put my eyes back on the road, carrying a lighter load. ;-)

Like angry gods
you hurled lightning bolts
and angry sounds
like thunder
at each other

and shed your vicious words
like rain
selfishly forgetting


we
were
your
children

huddled there in fear
at your feet

We learned the sick
goddamn lessons
you taught us
inadvertently

I am reminded today

some of those lessons
are real hard
to unlearn, though
I am too old to blame you
anymore.

"Sorry honey" doesn't always
seem to work for me
anymore, unfortunately.

#

Only coal miners.
Working in the dark, we are.
Groping for the light.

Poetry River

#

Poetry River.
Run dry in a drought of words.
Now, seventeen drops.

I Hear God

#

In the voice
of the winter wind,
I hear God
promising summer.

bottom end

#

chorus of spring peepers call out from the damp sage on a late winter night which is warm as summer. What y'all need is one tom bullfrog laying down the bass track.

my freedom

#

when I was a boy
my father was
a homicide inspector

i would see grisly
crime scene photos
on his desk
and the dining table
which we used only
for Sunday dinner

he would
occassionally
bring home
the accused

they would strategize
the accused would
invariably cry

now on some Friday nights
I watch
prison documentaries
and cherish my freedom

eag

#

at the end of the day
i
do
dishes.

bud

#

An unopened bud
is a promise
of future beauty.

Edit this one

Counting off the days between weekends, going to far away places in my mind. Thinking about the times we went a'wandering, never knowing for sure just what we'd find. It's time for an adventure, time to fill the sails full of air. Time for an adventure, yes it's time, time to sail on outta here.

Plum Blossoms

#

Early spring greets me at my front door, while a posse of Spring Peepers croaks a whiskey throated chorus in the Zen garden, perhaps filled with excitement that a sprinkling of rain is finally on its way.

Plum Tree Haiku

Spring wraps the plum tree
in a pink kimono of
delicate blossoms

#

the sound of rain
sneaks up on me
unexpectedly
in a drought year

rouleau

Slowly

Slowly, ever subtly, winter's sleeping branches give birth to tiny buds, then leaves, then blossoms. Slowly days grow longer, nights, shorter. Slowly, winter surrenders to spring. Slowly, ever slowly we cycle around the sun.

#

get up early each day honey
in the darkness before dawn
leave your bed to make some money
out the door, and I'm gone

and in those hollow halls
responsibility calls
and who I'm called to be
is just not what they need
all of us, serving greed

At the end of the working day
when on the road again I'll be
casting off that heavy lost along the way

Saturday

#

Up before the sun on Saturday, listening to a chorus of contented owls. Strangely optimistic, lately...uncharacteristic, but I'll take it, anyhow, right now. Oooooh, child, things are gonna get easier.

The Sun

#

I love the sun
on a new day dawning,
the family yawning,
work to be done.

God's many graces
put smiles on faces.
The fog starts to lift,
a beautiful a gift.

;-)

false spring

#

False spring stalls winter
Hormonal hawks take to wing
Trees blossom early


We've seen this before
Always...uncomfortable
Walking the thin line


False spring, so they say.
Who knows what's false these days?
Could be "new normal"

untitled

#

I saw her standing
elegant as a heron,
painted by lamplight.

Surrounded
by booming owls
on Chinese New Years
night, mystical voices
bouncing
from the mist
after days of rain
Whoo whoo whoooo
Whoo whoo whoooo

Whoo whoo whoooo

Whoo whoo whoooo

they know something
I'm yet
to know

storming

#

it's storming
outside

it's storming
worse
within

won't you
please
tell me
Jesus

when
is
this
ragin'

gonna
end

Sierra Winter

#

Rainy Day

#

Rainy day through my kitchen window.

Untitled

#

He, carved
of mahogany.

She,
of alabaster.

Seems
they belong
together

like night
and day,

and shall be

forever
after.


rouleau

Molasses Blackness

#


I have to say
at the end of this
particular
kind
o' day, dancing
in this mOlasses
blackness
with this
sweeEEEet honey-colored
Telecastaaaaaah,
sho'nuff takes
the edge off.

Just love
to make
these strings sing.


jr

fog

#

The grey of fog resembles rain clouds, but it is not rain. Still, it is fog only which bathes leaves and blades of grass in just enough water to remind them of the depth of their thirst.

still

#

Still drought lingers, wrapping withered fingers around fields. Hillsides bake. Colours...like rattlesnakes. Dust devils rise into cloudless skies; natures raindance, I surmise.

This scrub land and us, ache with a water lust.


rouleau

2011

‎#

2011. Looking back upon the breadth of your landscape, I'm grateful for the journey of you. From the shadows of your darkest canyons to your sunlit castle craigs. Thanks for your many gifts, your many blessings, even those disguised as failures. Onward.

dry

#

after summer
an early winter rain
or two

yearning fields
of golden gress
fell hard
for waters kiss
and sent up seas
of hopeful
green
shoots

now two months dry

the liquid trickster
long since gone
to snow and rain

elsewhere

grass again
brittle
stiff
once again surrenders
verdancy
to the drab
of drought


rouleau

#

#

Drowsy great horned owl
Sits in sunlight on a pole
Taking in some warmth

snared

#

snared by your foul trap
you eviscerated me
and left me hollow



rouleau

Crown

#

Japanese maple
loses leaves first from its crown
like my uncles hair



rouleau

crows

#

writing crow haiku
two crows land in the garden
can you read my mind?



eag

Chill

#

Old issues haunt us
The ghost of Christmas past, present
You chill, I shiver


rouleau

Squabble

#

Couple angry crows
Settle their petty squabble
With wicked voices

Two Haiku

#

entire city block
of bleak grey vacant storefronts
Happy Holidays

#

Twenty-two years old
Think you're carved out of hard wood
Time will make you bend


Happy Thanksgiving 'Mates!

DST

#

daylight savings time
a human construct of course
nature could care less


eag

untitled

#

Hummingbird dances
At the daisy's lips sipping
And dodging raindrops

red blanket

#

Japanese maple

falls deep

to winter sleep

beneath a red

blanket

Rouleau

fall finally

#

Autumn leaves
fall finally
like a brittle brown curtain
to end the Summer play
and bathe the theatre
in darkness