Thursday, September 27, 2012


Pendants



Long ago   
I gave her earrings    silver pendants
she has not worn them

does she keep those earrings
will she wear them?

perhaps she'll wear them to a party
perhaps she'll look a little arty

or will she wear them
and nothing else?

if she wears them

she may keep them handy
 in her drawer
with several scarves
only put back     never selected

has she worn them?

if she wears them
would I notice?





Dick Russell
copyright (C) 2017

Tuesday, September 25, 2012


In Memoriam: Basil Bunting

            1


some images claw to light
from dark   climbing hand over hand
up from a cave to appear near a spring
surrounded by willows

while others grow like sycamore seeds
sown by trees

in an aerie eaglets shudder

while images claw
wingbeats shatter cold air

sunlight slanting through willows
shading horses standing in water
chestnuts and bays   Anglo Arabians
with a colt watching a stallion
mares standing deepest

conscious of a colt
that will toughen with time
an eagle circling the sun

up in the vega   eagles soar
where troubadours wandered
solitary men   that many might have helped
had had less pride


           2


And whose horses are these?
a stallion spurred away
by a black booted Spaniard in Andalusia
spooked by a muse swimming naked
in a pool under the falls
where sun boiled pebbles
make potatoes for a poet
    
and poetry wants to be naked with you...
bold words if spoken boldly
else pathetic   whispered by that sensitive
youth we grow tired of
grooming mares in imaginary fields

there are ways of working
like turning words on a wheel
in a spiral towards meaning

and there are ways of laying down tools
signifying    completion

                    
            3
  
Then owlet flew with slow wingbeats
from fence post to barn roof
rust dusted her talons

moon rose over Stonehaugh
yellow bloom in purple leaves
above black edge



                      (written near Ronda, Spain 1985
                      and at Roughside near Tarset

                     part 3 published in The Hexham Courant about 1971)


Tuesday, September 18, 2012


Jim McDermott on Justice 2008     

Well it’s been interesting
 It’s been a long time since I went to Baghdad and Basra.
Hey look at that eagle!
I often see eagles from this window.
Baghdad Jim I am, and will forever be, since then.
The media has stopped calling
I’ve been blacked out  
No more TV
No interviews.  You would have thought…
Why’s that?
What did I say to cause such offence?
I said there’d be no WMD, well they didn’t find any, and
I said Bush would make up a story to justify Iraq, and
I was right, going into Iraq was based on, oh well, let’s no go there.
It doesn’t pay to be right it seems.

That picture is out of true.
Lopsided. I’ll straighten it.
See that bamboo picture over there.
Bamboo bends: “the Buddhist ideal of a public servant”
Someone with strong ideals who can compromise without
Betrayal

Of course if the media would accept that our trip to Iraq was legit
There would be consequences, maybe, just maybe!?
Over 4,000 dead in the military shows there
Have been consequences, right?

I was born and raised in Chicago.
Some say I’m an Irish politician with the gift of the gab.
I think I’m a typical American with American values.
In politics I’m flexible, up to a point. 

I’ve always spoken up for freedom, ironic isn’t it?
Now it comes out that my trip was paid for by Saddam.
This Al-Hanooti guy they indicted, why now?
Seems like he spread his money around, gave some to
Bush, was photographed with Hillary.
What’s going on?
 This comes out now?
Could it be to hang around Hillary’s neck if she’s the Candidate?
But I don’t regret going. 
As the majority now agree, that war
Was a mistake and if I could have done more to stop it
I would have.

Then there’s the $1.1M I’ve had to pay off Congressman Boehner to wrap
Up that ten-year vendetta.  One point one
Million dollars in judgment
Boehner’s legal fees!
They were twice what I paid.  Was
I short changed by my legal team?!
Makes you think?
A million is a cheap price to pay for a
principle: freedom of speech.
I didn’t bend like bamboo that time. 

So Newt and Boehner were morally wrong; but
I pay a fine.  That’s interesting isn’t it?
If I’d had that tape read into the Congressional Record, all would have been fine.
But giving it to the press, who would have thought?

So what’s next for Baghdad Jim.
I want to get Healthcare sorted out next year.
Obama? Hillary? How will I vote?
I’ll do what I think’s best for the country.





Dick Russell, based on a fund-raising event at Rick Steve's Europe Through The Back Door in Edmonds, WA and an earlier meeting in Seattle.

Avoiding Saint Peter



and when I arrive at Saint Peter's gate
will I have to recite

            wevver the weather be fine
or whether the weather be not
            we'll weather the wevver
whatever the wevver
            whether we like it or not

to assess my social class and subsequent disposition

full fledged and flying free
from thicket to thicket
like a finch

I'll skirt Saint Peter's gate and fly
straight to the rafters of Heaven

where my feathers will gleam in the radiance
of fires far below




© Dick Russell

Monday, September 17, 2012

For Absent Friends


                  
    wine glasses
                                                                   remain   
                                                                                     amongst
                                                                         other objects   
                                                                            bereft
                                                                               of
                                                                            hands

                                                                       leave takings
                                                                     fond farewells
           
                                                        more urgent now to return
                                                            to that table
                                                                                those chairs
                                                                         those
                                                                              bottles
                                                                                of
                                                                             myth

                                                                       each return
                                                                   is another life
                                                               our myth is enriched
                                                         that table    those chairs
                                                        these glasses
                                                                     the touching of hands
                                                                           lips
                                                                         yet
                                                                      that place
                                                                does not detain us

                                                                        our eyes
                                                               carry it weightlessly
                                                                      recreate it
                                                                   in another time
                                                                     another place.



                                             copyright Richard Michael Friend Russell, 2014
                                                     an early version first published in
                                                     Lines Review 64, Midlothian,  1978
                                                               Editor: Robert R Calder

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