4ward 2 Past

 

The little man
who looked forward to the past

he walked into the dream

We darkened the room to see like him

blueblack on a black rainy night

to awake the dead

the dead as the goal of living

the living lost in the unknown past

child borne sorrow we talked with him

He whispered into his ears

telling of

the missing ones

ancestors gone blank

blind closed-eye-blind to the existence

of what they have wrought

a zipper undone, clothing ripped, passions torn

lashed/splashed/dashed

birth unloaded into life

haunting the living unknown

they wept in tears 

Oh, if only I knew how to hold them in comfort

j.m.frase-white, dreamscape 7.23.2021

 

A Poem for Amy (1958-2021)

Amy in the Mountains -- wish we could see her lovely eyes, as they captured radiant joy always, her smile will have to do, with the beauty of the scenery, like her with a heart as big, and fragile, as all out doors

A Poem for Amy 

How astonishing it was to wake this morn

trees grow one step greener

forming leaves, little goddess gifts

Birds burst in joyous mating songs

Sudden thoughts return to the loss of you

Taken in the night to the cavern of death

To die when Spring is dawning

It seems so wrong that you are gone

The breath of life exhaled

Your loss refutes renewal of Earth

The daffodils bow their heads

And call for mother sun

We wish you could do the same

As we hold you in our blood, in heart

In memories, in mind, in visions

Illusions to the flesh of you

Your kind and loving voice

A laughter that we’ll hear inside

A life you gave so freely of

Farewell, kind heart, dear love

Amy, you kept us well, the world a better place 

             With all our love, from Jim & Chuck

(Amy M. Sullivan 1958 – 2021)

 ©j.m.frase-white 10 May 2021

Psalm Flyaway Home

 

Bird Psalm

 

Hummingbirds jet

 in butterfly flutters

red green ornaments

of summer exuberance

iridescent dancers among

rainbows of blossoms

§

Bluebirds flit

above green fields

a dash of sky over fertile grass

& Swifts in purple

black & white

across lakes and ponds

scooping up the abundances

of hovering buzzing flies

§

Robin redbreast

sings at dawn to call

the sun awake then

dance upon the greening ground

a worming they partake

§

Crows attune robin’s morning song

 squawk language loud and strong

to guide their friends to treats

tempering the feathered flocks

 to feast the bounty of the land

§

Buzzards circling round

swallow up the fate of death

devouring, tearing feasts of flesh

in tidy jagged bites

cleaning up the world

they rule with funerary care

§

Flitting among the bushes

you see them now you don’t

the wren and sparrow spin

their songs in melody unmatched

we  humans imitate

we warble not so well

songs resound

gargling  bells

among secret bowers swell

§

Screeching harshly

the blue jay reigns

a crown upon its head

 Red Cardinal too

less raucously proclaims

its noble heavenly birth

dancing, hopping on earth

and tree, up upon thee

We bow no matter how

we dress or decorate

we cannot touch the wealth

or elegance of flight

§

The hidden Bittern sound so deep

secreted among the reeds

blended in, even frogs

confuse the hollow dropping sound

 

On open pond

at dusk and dawn

the longing, lingering

 lachrymose Loon

we listen with repose

attired in stunning black & white

Loon croons a soulful tune

§ 

Snowy Egret purifies in

Virgin white, above

Blue Heron soaring form

we view in worshiped awe

the beauty haunting time

what colors can dare approach

Wood Ducks stylish trim?

We humans dazzle, yes

in sequins, stones, shiny rocks

brag like Parrots pirate talk

in movie stars or bishops frocks

our ruby slippers

& golden crowns substitute

Nature bestows pure honor

to our feathered friends

who flute  & mimic with noble songs

abraid with screech and hoot

swift Owls at night

who gently coo

Seagulls laugh and caw

we are a part of this wild world

in mock civility

and evil strife

§ 

Enjoy the color in flocks

and flight of fowls

We all are most blesséd

to be among the wingéd

Wonder of these companions

our own angel dream

can only just imagine

no matter how we sing

these traits we borrow, not own

so let us give a gracious bow & thank

fowl friends on Earth

     ©j.marshall frase-white Spring 2019

The Birds are coming home:  Happy Spring

 

 

Children's Song of the Earth

Each Year
3 Rooms of Proud
1st Grade Students
in our 4-Block Reading Groups
2 wonderful Class Room Teachers
2 joyful Title 1 Tutors
would
have
a READ-IN/SING-IN
for their Parents & Friends
in
the Spring of the Year
enjoying the succes
of our study
and the miraculous rite
of Learning to Read

Goat Boy by me

Olivia Illustrates and says Thank You

Tiger Boy by

To the Joy of these wonderful students

the teachers and tutors I worked with

and the joy of being part

of a finally literate society

(centuries, if not millennia in the making!)

 with love to Kelly, Summer, Lisa, Colleen & every teacher, title 1 tutor & principals I've worked with in those magically enthusiastic learning centers of WRSD.  And the students, who gave us 2-way love, laughter and learning every day and a great quantity of those parents, who loved what we, and their kids did. 

 Song Sparrow

(Crack Shot, 1957)

 Proud boy

10th birthday bb gun 

No more toy TV Wild West

 six-shooter

Wyatt, Hoppalong,

heir of Roy and Dale

 

Out stalking game

no paper targets, tin cans

practicing for those hunting days

I’d find manly honor at 14

old enough for my own shotgun 

 

Easter Recess, in the large playground

circling my two-room school

ducking under the jungle gym bars

(I’d knocked myself out there

fallen Tarzan of the Apes)

Into the grove of budding

shellbark hickory trees

 

50 foot up atop one

A Proud song sparrow

trills for love, in praise of Spring

 

perfect target

raising, aiming, squeezing

crack

b.b. pop right on spot

 

a loud silence

 

falling    

              

falling

 

falling

 

 

that hush still rings inside

 

©James M. Frase-White 2021

Artist Owl Lover & his Sacred Yellow Cat

 

Dorian McGowan, from his Owl & Pussycat by Edward Lear

A Diddly Poem for Dorian & Glover

O dear dear Cuddly marmoset

So fun to watch your mermen dance

Tumbling rumbling in the sea

Holding, boiling, roiling laughter bac

to keep the fish at bay

spitting suds and bubbles

Jumping up upon the cockleshells

Angry barnacles breathe back

striking out their feathery tongues

begging, yelling with watery spleen

"N'er err to dare come back!"

seething seashell venom

in twisted greenly crackly wrack

They sailed off in briny oyster shell

with oar of runcible spoon

And owl and cat in primate gowns

pretending dreams of silvery moons

laughing gulls and crooning loons

A day, a night, a wild cold tale

a chocolate bar of joy to share

in a champagne bath of glee

Invincible we think all hope

forever and a day!

"James" by Dorian McGowan

 © j.m.frase-white May 2019

A Valentine for Mom and (step)Dad . . . nostalgia in a bag of clothes

 

In the Mood

 

In the new house

Down in the basement

In front of the fallout shelter

hung a line of plastic bags

clear soldiers guarding in a row

These bags once hidden away

Intrigued my adolescent mind

Mysteries of days gone by

Pirating for treasure, unzipping for the dig

 

First, standing at attention

Was Daddy’s sailor suit

A uniform handsome in solid navy blue

To my surprise it fit like a caress

I was my father’s trim young form

Taken far from home

Across the continent

And  unpacified Pacific

The fight Japan, in water and in flight

A gunner’s mate on battle ship

Off to win the war, on sea and in the air

 

Admiring me in woolen blue

The mirror reflected red

I turned, unzipped the bag

A full skirt dress danced out

Clenching the frock unto my front

My mother appeared inside

 

I pulled it close and held her dear

Mother no longer Ma

Not the widow with five children

 struggling to survive

 

She was that young farm girl

A Saturday night revived

Blossoming with a taste of freedom

A red rose in a dress

 

My arm raised holding one red sleeve

In a salute to love

the other I  flipped on shoulder

My left hand on her back

 

From my standing trombone case

Glenn Miller came out to play

Together we began to dance

Bright rose upon midnight blue

 

A Moonlight Serenade

 

Daddy and Mama were no more

We two-stepped back in time

Fanciful young creatures

Danced the world alive

War sunk into the ocean deep

 widow black dispersed in to night

Maud’s hair so long and beautiful

Swirling, whirling with the dance

Joe’s eyes lit with stars of joy

The radiant grace of ethereal light . . .

Young again forever more . . .

 

 

©james m. frase-white 2/14/2021