Frustrated with your computer... this should help you let off some steam!

The site is in Spanish, but I think this sort of game, like music, represents a universal language.

Metele al ordenata

I don't get frustrated with my computer, of course, since I use a Mac. ;-)

67º 52’ N (A Song of Å)

67º 52’ N (A Song of Å)

The music of the maelstrom is a mirror.
     Reflected in a glassy oval flattened into the sea
by whirling currents and savage tides,
     Helle-bound peaks sing a jagged profile
in the slow Nordland twilight.

Standing waves, the lands of our forebears
     flow into the sea, crest upon crest,
each cape jutting behind and past
     the one that came before
until the tune is lost in the gathering fog.

But turn around and always there is a new melody
     rising raw and pink as the sky at dawn—
the cry of a lone kittiwake, the plaintive chant
     of a Lofoten gale through rigging, the dull
pulse of a diesel engine from beyond the headland.

Technorati Tags: Norway, Poetry

Ode to a pip

Carelessly discarded, a seed
may find fertile earth, germinate,
mature over time into the flourishing
tree that gives forth fruit—
a pear, for instance, plucked with wonder
by a knowing hand.

in response to...

A sort of inquiry at Frank Wilson's blog Books, Inq.

The poem posted above is revised from the offering I posted in that thread; I never could leave well enough alone.

In remembrance

Written September 15, 2001, revised September 10, 2006.

Just a Moment

Just now, I am struck by the terrible
significance of my office window:
fragile pane, too-permeable membrane, separating
innocence from sin.

I turn to look at the expanse of humankind,
but a 767 fills the view, its black nose
poised against the glass like a dog
waiting to be let in,
a dog with sad eyes.

I see a crack
form and creep
across the sheet:
an insistent pressure
builds until
it must break
through.

Technorati Tags: Poetry, 911