sowing seeds of wheat
the sower’s thought: secrete
growing shoots of wheat
the grower’s thought: complete
mowing sheaves of wheat
the mower’s thought: repeat
Showing posts with label Robert Laughlin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Laughlin. Show all posts
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Sunday, February 10, 2013
La passion de Jeanne d’Arc
by Robert Laughlin
Dreyer cuts to the crowd
The first cinematic image of an infant nursing at the breast
Juxtaposed against the burning of Joan
We easily forget
Those sucking infant jaws suck dust today
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Graffiti
by Robert Laughlin
A dead man’s marker peeping through the snow,
A vandal’s blow;
For both, a smear
To show a sightless world that they were here.
A dead man’s marker peeping through the snow,
A vandal’s blow;
For both, a smear
To show a sightless world that they were here.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Diagnosis
by Robert Laughlin
The doctor said “It’s restless legs, indeed.”
A nasty syndrome for a centipede.
The doctor said “It’s restless legs, indeed.”
A nasty syndrome for a centipede.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
99 South of Chico: American Sentence
by Robert Laughlin
line of merging buttes and sky confused by ferrous tangle in foreground
line of merging buttes and sky confused by ferrous tangle in foreground
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Thoughts in the Produce Aisle
by Robert Laughlin
A baggie wrapped around my hand,
I heft the prickly pear, a multicolored vegetable grenade.
The next bin over are some nopal cactus leaves,
So recently bedecked with spines;
Beyond them bins of chilies, fresh and dried,
And hanging on the wall, cayenne in bags—
That stuff that makes you choke to death
Should someone spray it in your face.
I think, the Inquisition and the bullfight aren’t enough;
The Spanish culture that produced them both
Has made the dining room another place
For torture of the innocent.
A baggie wrapped around my hand,
I heft the prickly pear, a multicolored vegetable grenade.
The next bin over are some nopal cactus leaves,
So recently bedecked with spines;
Beyond them bins of chilies, fresh and dried,
And hanging on the wall, cayenne in bags—
That stuff that makes you choke to death
Should someone spray it in your face.
I think, the Inquisition and the bullfight aren’t enough;
The Spanish culture that produced them both
Has made the dining room another place
For torture of the innocent.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
The Writers Guild Veteran
by Robert Laughlin
You don’t know who puts the words into the mouths of stars.
LA loves its writers just as Venice loves its cars.
You don’t know who puts the words into the mouths of stars.
LA loves its writers just as Venice loves its cars.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
As Fillmore said to Henry:
by Robert Laughlin
As Fillmore said to Henry:
You can have any color you like
As long as it’s black, white or yellow.
As Fillmore said to Henry:
You can have any color you like
As long as it’s black, white or yellow.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
The Poetess Entreats Her Beau
by Robert Laughlin
Please help me to commemorate
The thrill I had on our last date.
To shape it into perfect rhyme,
I need a minute of your time.
We had our dinner with champagne,
Then parked your car in Lovers’ Lane.
That night I wore my sheerest dress
And fragrance that imparted Yes.
You reached out with your gentle hand
As to some unheard saraband.
So…what rhymes with ‘octopus’?
Please help me to commemorate
The thrill I had on our last date.
To shape it into perfect rhyme,
I need a minute of your time.
We had our dinner with champagne,
Then parked your car in Lovers’ Lane.
That night I wore my sheerest dress
And fragrance that imparted Yes.
You reached out with your gentle hand
As to some unheard saraband.
So…what rhymes with ‘octopus’?
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