Fresh Sesame Bagel

Fresh Sesame Bagel, originally uploaded by salmonbear7.

A poem in dough. Fresh from the oven. I've been kneading, rising, boiling, baking many of these in the past week.

Recipe?

http://www.sophisticatedgourmet.com/2009/10/new-york-style-bagel-recipe/

Operatic Intermission ~ Il Volo

Still watching PBS, and now Il Volo is on.  If you've never heard these three young guys singing in Italian, you are missing something.  They are amazing.  Here is a link to one of the videos of their concert at the Detroit Opera House:



So wonderful.  Enjoy~

on Radial Symmetry, poems by Katherine Larson (Yale University Press) | On the Seawall: A Literary Website by Ron Slate (GD)

on Radial Symmetry, poems by Katherine Larson (Yale University Press) | On the Seawall: A Literary Website by Ron Slate (GD)



Most evenings I watch the New Hour on PBS.  And often a poet will be featured near the close of the program.  Tonight' poet was Kathryn Larson, reading from her first book, "Radial Symmetry."  Larson is a molecular biologist, and was "trained as a writer in university workshops led by Rita Dove and Charles Wright."

To learn more, view her book, and a sample poem, visit the above link.

Monday Poem - (a Poem a Day for Lent)

Love the simplicity, and complexity of this poem.  I highly recommend a visit to Poets.org if you haven't already been.

Thinking of Work
by James Shea
A brief storm blew the earth clean. There was much to do: sun to put up, clouds to put out, blue to install, limbs to remove, grass to implant. (The grass failed. We ordered new grass.) A limb had cracked in half in the short storm, short with its feeling. We saw its innards, all the hollow places. Something flew out of the window and then the window flew out of the window.

Sunday's Poem, catching up~

This poem can be found on Poets.org:

Thanks by W. S. Merwin

Listen with the night falling we are saying thank you we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings we are running out of the glass rooms with our mouths full of food to look at the sky and say thank you we are standing by the water thanking it smiling by the windows looking out in our directions back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging after funerals we are saying thank you after the news of the dead whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you over telephones we are saying thank you in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators remembering wars and the police at the door and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you in the banks we are saying thank you in the faces of the officials and the rich and of all who will never change we go on saying thank you thank you with the animals dying around us our lost feelings we are saying thank you with the forests falling faster than the minutes of our lives we are saying thank you with the words going out like cells of a brain with the cities growing over us we are saying thank you faster and faster with nobody listening we are saying thank you we are saying thank you and waving dark though it is

Poetry? for Saturday, Day 18 of Lent

So, here I am, getting ready for the daylight savings time shift, and realising once again I haven't posted my poem.  I was listening to Car Talk today, which is my favorite way to start a Saturday morning, and during their short intermission was this song.  Amused, I decided this would be today's "poem."  Here is a link to the video, and some lyrics to "Truck Got Stuck," by Corb Lund.




Truck Got Stuck

The Chev got stuck and the Ford got stuck

But the Chev unstuck when the Dodge showed up

But the Dodge got stuck in the tractor rut,

Which eventually pulled out the Ford

With some difficulty

Well more rain than we’d seen for a thousand years

 Caused financial joys and biblical fears

It caused some smiles it caused some tears

But more to the point of our story

For The first time in the collective memory,

That old brown prairie that had been so dry for so long was very muddy

Boggy and sticky

We’d pull one truck out and get another stuck in

And motors would roar and tires would spin

We’d sink right down, down to the diff, and we’d all take turns and do it again

Till no one could move, we’d call one more friend,

Come on out here, we need you…bring your truck

The Chev got stuck and the Ford got stuck

But the Chev unstuck when the Dodge showed up

But the Dodge got stuck in the tractor rut

Which eventually pulled out the Ford

And the Dodge

They got me stuck in the mud, so they couldn’t rehearse

And Chavase too has missed his work

Richie, he now fears the worst, he stood up his ex wife she called him a jerk

Course Holman didn’t have nothing better do to, ‘cept ranch.

The Chev got stuck and the Ford got stuck

But the Chev unstuck when the Dodge showed up

But the Dodge got stuck in the tractor rut

Which eventually pulled out the Ford

Well it was truck after truck, we all got stuck

‘cept the big old four by hutterite truck

We all thought “lord are we in luck!”

But he wouldn’t come anywhere near us,

Mighty neighborly, mighty neighborly.

So we used a lot of our backs, a little of our brains

We jacked up the jacks, and snugged up the chains,

We all did our very best to refrain from shovelin.’

We put what timber we had, underneath the wheels

And we was all out of sand, but managed to steal

Two sacks of the best modern canola seed you ever did see,

That ‘oughta give us some traction

The Chev got stuck and the Ford got stuck

But the Chev unstuck when the Dodge showed up

But the Dodge got stuck in the tractor rut

Which eventually pulled out the Ford

We spilled genetically modified canola seed

That was genetically modified for controlling the weeds

And for big old yields and margarine oil, raised hell all over that native prairie soil

Agriculture Canada is definitely gonna be looking for us

Read more: CORB LUND - THE TRUCK GOT STUCK LYRICS http://www.metrolyrics.com/the-truck-got-stuck-lyrics-corb-lund.html#ixzz1omdgV23R
Copied from MetroLyrics.com

***


Mind you, I'd never even heard of the song, nor the guys before today.  I can always rely on the Car Guys to broaden my poetic and lyrical horizons, as well as fix my car.  I do love a little NPR on the weekends~

Friday Photo~

I love getting flowers for my birthday.  They're kind of a gift that keeps on giving, as I get to take photos of them as long as they last.

Alstroemeria, detail

Each day the light is a little different, and each day the blossoms are changed, too. 

                           

It is a little like poetry, digging deeply into the subject ...

Delphinium Blossom

Friday's Poem for my Lenten Post a Poem a Day Challenge

Riding Lesson by Henry Taylor | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor


"Riding Lesson," by Henry Taylor from An Afternoon of Pocket Billiards (University of Utah Press).

 

Riding Lesson

I learned two things
from an early riding teacher.
He held a nervous filly
in one hand and gestured
with the other, saying "Listen.
Keep one leg on one side,
the other leg on the other side,
and your mind in the middle."

 

He turned and mounted.
She took two steps, then left
the ground, I thought for good.
But she came down hard, humped
her back, swallowed her neck,
and threw her rider as you'd
throw a rock. He rose, brushed
his pants and caught his breath,
and said, "See that's the way
to do it When you see
they're gonna throw you, get off."

Thursday's Poem, a day late

This poem is entitled "Silence," which was feature on one of my favorite sites, Poets.org.


   
Silence
by Marianne Moore

My father used to say,
"Superior people never make long visits,
have to be shown Longfellow's grave
or the glass flowers at Harvard.
Self-reliant like the cat—
that takes its prey to privacy,
the mouse's limp tail hanging like a shoelace from its mouth—
they sometimes enjoy solitude,
and can be robbed of speech
by speech which has delighted them.
The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence;
not in silence, but restraint."
Nor was he insincere in saying, "Make my house your inn."
Inns are not residences.


***

Yesterday I was reading "Fire on Her Tongue - an eBook Anthology of Contemporary Women's Poetry" while on the elliptical.  (I love new my Kindle Fire.)  I was looking for a poem to share with the Pilates class I was about to teach, and settled on "Southern Comfort," by Nin Andrews.  If you haven't read this wonderful anthology, I would definitely check it out.  So, so good.

Wednesday Poem, Week Two of Lent

Dear Reader,

Here's your poem for today.

Dear March - Come in - (1320)- Poets.org - Poetry, Poems, Bios & More

Sincerely,
R