Members of Move in front of their house in Philadelphia in 1977. The Move 9 were arrested following a massive police siege of their home. Photograph: Leif Skoogfors/Corbis via Getty Images
Sunday, February 9, 2020
Saturday, February 8, 2020
Friday, February 7, 2020
Thursday, February 6, 2020
VERMONT MAPLE CARTOONS ~
Kitcheneat | Vermont
It's that time of year again ~
sugar on snow!
Robert Schelling has now released
his endearing mutts of the snowy woods
gathering maple sap and making syrup,
zest and a whole town.
I love these cartoons and this book.
The book is kissin' cousin with my own
Sapline from the sugar bush.
Wednesday, February 5, 2020
JACK BURNS (LONELY ARE THE BRAVE) ~
K I R K D O U G L A S
I s s u r D a n i e l o v i t c h
December 9, 1916 ~ 2020
FIRST SIGHT OF HER AND AFTER ~
First Sight of Her and After
A day is drawing to its fall
I had not dreamed to see;
The first of many to enthrall
My spirit, will it be?
Or is this eve the end of all
Such new delight for me?
I journey home: the patterns grow
Of moonshades on the way:
'Soon the first quarter, I suppose,'
Sky-glancing travellers say;
I realize that it, for those,
Has been a common day.
____________________
Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)
Tuesday, February 4, 2020
Monday, February 3, 2020
YOKEL ( 17 ) ~
Woodcutter’s Memo
It will fit into the firebox
If — when she measures it —
Its height doesn’t reach
Lumbermen
My father —
An old lumberman now
Tells me a little yarn about one
Of our descendants who were all
Sawmill owners and loggers and
How Grandfather Henry when he was
Cutting off Mount Greylock for his mill and
For the state of Massachusetts carving a
Road out to the mountain’s summit also
Worked over one landowner for most of
One night about a particular oak tree he
Wanted and left quite pleased from his
Visit with the man because he was given
Permission to cut the tree he had already
Earlier in the day cut down
Hauling Wood
Winter after winter I used to cut my
Cordwood on the hill and backpacked
Up fuel jugs, water jar, an apple for a
Snack and chain saw, and when I had my
Wood it was always near Spring. Over the
Spring I usually did something for Native like
Stonework or carpentry and in return he would
Bring his truck over when the woods were
Again dry and begin to haul the cord
Wood out with me and stack it at a
Landing near the house. Without fail
He always began with the woodpile
Furthest back in the woods, until after
Some days we ended the work with
The one closest at hand.
for Alden
Reclaimed
Where loggers
Went through
Now Johnny
Jump ups
______________
Bob Arnold
Yokel
Longhouse
2011
Sunday, February 2, 2020
Saturday, February 1, 2020
FEBRUARY ~
February
A chimney, breathing a little smoke.
The sun, I can't see
making a bit of pink
I can't quite see in the blue.
The pink of five tulips
at five p.m. on the day before March first.
The green of the tulip stems and leaves
like something I can't remember,
finding a jack-in-the-pulpit
a long time ago and far away.
Why it was December then
and the sun was on the sea
by the temples we'd gone to see.
One green wave moved in the violet sea
like the UN Building on big evenings,
green and wet
while the sky turns violet.
A few almond trees
had a few flowers, like a few snowflakes
out of the blue looking pink in the light.
A gray hush
in which the boxy trucks roll up Second Avenue
into the sky. They're just
going over the hill.
The green leaves of the tulips on my desk
like grass light on flesh,
and a green-copper steeple
and streaks of cloud beginning to glow.
I can't get over
how it all works in together
like a woman who just came to her window
and stands there filling it
jogging her baby in her arms.
She's so far off. Is it the light
that makes the baby pink?
I can see the little fists
and the rocking-horse motion of her breasts.
It's getting grayer and gold and chilly.
Two dog-size lions face each other
at the corners of a roof.
It's the yellow dust inside the tulips.
It's the shape of a tulip.
It's the water in the drinking glass the tulips are in.
It's a day like any other.
___________________
James Schuyler
Collected Poems
Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Friday, January 31, 2020
Thursday, January 30, 2020
Wednesday, January 29, 2020
António Osório ~
____________________________
A strong debut selection presented
by Patricio Ferrari and
designed by Bob Arnold at Longhouse
into an attractive foldout booklet
of 18 poems
$12
postpaid
Please pay by Paypal
poetry@sover.net
or check:
L O N G H O U S E
PO Box 2454
West Brattleboro
Vermont
05303
______________
Tuesday, January 28, 2020
Monday, January 27, 2020
YOKEL ( 16 ) ~
Wind
Where Native has his junkyard
Which is causing all this trouble
With another town down river
About spilled fluids and such
A wind last week came into the
Valley and got snagged up right
At that spot and after it took off
Half of Gardener’s greenhouse
Roof and sailed it somewhere
Wind opened its mouth and bared
Its teeth and shook the earth from
Under Native’s life by knocking
Red pine trees his father planted
Anyway it pleased, some over
Those shit cars, and you just
Wouldn’t believe how the large
Rock maples that have grown
For years along the river
Woodlot
Here with me everywhere
In the snowy woods
Far from any road —
The smallest animal tracks
Logger
Logger came around at dinner time
And rapped at the kitchen door. We
Could see him through the glass door
Standing there in grimy t-shirt and
Camouflage trousers but had no idea
Who he was. Friendly enough smile.
He introduced himself tipping his head
In a few nods like a shy pony before
Spilling out the reason for his visit.
Turns out the Boy had been over across
River where logger was cutting and with
Another friend fooled with his skidder —
The gears had been played with, seat
Monkeyed over and what was worse
Logger found matches stuffed down
The gas tank and didn’t like it one bit.
I agreed and called the Boy over.
Logger looked at him as I did and
When asked if he had screwed with
The skidder nodded that he had but
Now realizes it was wrong and he
Didn’t mean to. Logger seemed a
Fair-minded sort and admitted he was
Once wild as a kid and seemed to
Satisfy himself with that. Turns out
He is cutting on Cityboy’s land which
Takes driving a log truck through a
Low part of the river, never mind getting
Over there each day for Logger, so his
Job was tough enough not to have kids
Playing with his gear. We left it with
A mutual understanding and an oily
Handprint of Logger on the white porch
Railing where we had stood awhile and
Talked about things around this valley.
Old Trick
Waiting for snow by
Getting everything done
Bob Arnold
Yokel
Longhouse
2011
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