Doc's Place: Poetry

Mothers Gone

Sun, 11 May 2008 22:26:25 GMT

Mother died - I live

Mothers gave me all

Mother last is gone

Many hands held me

Mother Earth caresses them

More than I can do

Preserve memories

Heritage and legacy

Offspring then may know

Peace, Doc

A Poetic Trip To 1966

Thu, 08 May 2008 09:07:32 GMT

While cleaning, sorting papers, and generally avoiding washing the dishes, I happened to run across some poetry I wrote somewhen between 1964 and 1968. It was upsetting. I was better at it then! Ah, well. I'll pull the old memory loss trick and tell you I must have only saved the best. Yes, that's the ticket.

A Happier Time

The image of a star-lit night

Embossed upon my heart

Calls to mind the other times

When we were not apart

A fullness of life remembered

A depth of love untold

Memories remain with me

More precious now than gold

When I see that poem now, remembering Annie's death three years ago, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing out. Surely I could not then have seen what would occur nearly 40 years in the future. Or could I? I suspect that it is more related to my lifelong fear of abandonment than it is to what a 20 year old predicted would happen in his life. But they might well have been the same.

Some of the haiku I found even resembled the true spirit and intent of the form better than those which I now compose.

In a great city

I saw a blind man sitting

And I felt deprived

The thing - perfection

Hovering beyond our reach

Still we try to grasp

Whispering breezes

Arousing the sleeping earth

In the pre-dawn glow

Paths of particles

Shortly running parallel

Diverging at length

There were more, but I think that these are a sufficient number to inflict upon my readers in a single post. Or perhaps upon myself. I'll now quit stalling on the dishes, and neaten up the place a bit more. As friendly and accepting of my eccentricities as they are, I don't believe that the downstairs neighbors would appreciate my good intentions if they include vacuuming at 4:00 a.m., however.

Peace, Doc

"Youth gets together with their materials to build a bridge to the moon or maybe a palace on earth; then in middle age they decide to build a woodshed with them instead." - Henry David Thoreau

A Cranky Haiku

Wed, 30 Apr 2008 00:02:13 GMT

I hadn't intended to write a haiku, or even to complain for a while. I changed my mind. Actually, the pain in my back changed my mind. In the process of downsizing my life and living situations, I have grumbled about ridding myself of such things as 9,900 nails, drill presses and tools, furniture, and many other material things. In truth, a very large part of the "stuff" I moved to the apartment or into storage was paper. It is easy to decide to discard five year old catalogs and outdated journals. The real problem involved for me is the sorting of, and the appropriate disposition of, clinical records, papers kept from hospital days upon which client information might appear, and personal information which might make me an easier target for Identity Theft (although our government has already assisted me there by losing a hard drive with my personal and financial specifics on it.)

Sorting papers didn't seem too tough, just something that was time consuming, repetitive, and boring. I recalled, (a little too late) that the last time I had caused a major flare-up of sciatic pain from degenerating discs in my lower back was when I sealed the deck at the house. Neither of these tasks is physically demanding, but they have in common a repetitive bending forward and twisting to the left. That sort of task sneaks up on me. Warning pain, as when I try to lift something too heavy or incorrectly isn't there. It irritates the lumbar and sacral areas "gently" until the inflammation really becomes noticeable in the middle of the night.

Lightning strike of pain

Streaks from disc to foot and brain

Won't do that again

Peace, Doc

“Wisdom is nothing more than healed pain.” - Robert Gary Lee

Hardly Bardly

Sun, 06 Apr 2008 12:05:49 GMT

Sometimes writing poetry (or anything else) from one's dreams can be unsettling, especially to others. Just to prove that my dreams are not all total nightmares, the following stemmed from a dream fragment which occurred about four hours ago:

There once was an old Doc from Ill. (y)

Whose haiku were not nice and frilly

This tiny town bard

Worked at them so hard

That few realized they were silly

And that's about enough of that. Have a good Sunday, Friends.

Peace, Doc

Nightmare In 51 Syllables

Sat, 05 Apr 2008 14:25:21 GMT

Just breathe in, breathe out.
She tried until she could not,
Then peacefully stopped.
~
Fifteen compressions
For each time our lips were pressed,
Cried the kiss of life.
~
So cold, my Annie.
Tried to warm you with my breath
Changed to kiss of death.

Peace, Doc
Copyright © 2008, Thomas A. Blood, Ph.D.

Tinnitus Is A Whiner

Tue, 01 Apr 2008 13:33:40 GMT

I have written a number of dark, depressive haiku, but I don't recall having written any about a particular symptom. That shall be remedied forthwith! It is not about a psychological symptom, per se, but rather a physical one that I have lived with since my youth in greater or lesser degree. It is the result of the cumulative effects of an ear infection, tuning race engines "in a rickety old garage," gunfire, and loud rock music, all without the use of hearing protection. Probably the despised lawnmower added significantly to the problem in more recent years. Some medications seem to exacerbate the annoyance. The symptom is tinnitus, that ringing or hissing in one's ears that occurs when nothing outside is producing it.

As an aside, I pronounced tinnitus incorrectly for years as "tin-eye-tis," like the "itis" in an infection. I was informed by my friend and family GP, that the word was from the Latin and was pronounced more like "tin-ih-toose," with emphases on the first and third syllables, unlike the usual American English tendency to emphasize the second syllable of a word if we are unfamiliar with the actual pronunciation. What could I do with this new knowledge after nearly fifty years of error? Well, writing a haiku seemed like a good idea to me. The possibility that it might not seem like that wonderful a response to you is admitted in advance.

White Noise

Noise generator

Susurrus of tinnitus

Always in my mind

When I published this on the site where I usually publish poetry, the only comment I saw was a question as to whether I always carried a thesaurus around with me. No I don't. I'm just full of high quality bullshit, which can be proven by the fact that I have brown eyes and am not "a quart low."

Peace, Doc

Rather than the usual quote, here is a link to the "tinnitus" wiki. It affects about 1 in 100 people, so someone might derive some benefit from this. I found two things I can easily try to reduce its annoyance, and one relatively complicated thing that fits in with some informal experimentation I have been doing with the psychophysiological effects of sound for a different purpose.

January 29, 2005, 1:20 A.M.

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 07:17:53 GMT

Annie, I miss you

Weeping, I'm playing our song

That's all I can do

Love,

Tom

Stop Knocking. Nobody's Home.

Sun, 27 Jan 2008 21:05:05 GMT

Slogging one's way through meaningless, colorless Silly-Putty can be a real drag.

Not Now!

No feelings today

The blue and gray depression

Is having its way

Peace, Doc

"Woe worth the chase, woe worth the day, That costs thy life, my gallant gray!" - Sir Walter Scott.

A Box of Gone v 1.1

Sat, 05 Jan 2008 20:48:55 GMT

This poem was written nearly three years ago, following the death of my wife and best friend, Annie. I am sorry to admit that my attitude toward the holiday season has not improved very much, especially since this year it has been necessary to move the box and to reexamine many of its contents, trying to decide what may be disposed of. I believe that I am thinking somewhat more positively this year, but will be relieved when the day after Valentine's Day has passed.

A Box of Gone

I have a box beneath my bed

Where memories are kept

Not entrusted to my head

I opened it a day ago

Enjoy the past, I said

Look at all the photographs

Fading quickly now instead

Holding one-time treasures

And the Christmas feelings fled

A panic dream awakened me

No tinsel, greens, or red

All was lost within the dream

It left me filled with dread

All old love and gladness gone

And all is past and dead

Peace, Doc

“Melancholy is the pleasure of being sad” - Victor Hugo

Brain Fade

Sat, 29 Dec 2007 20:40:10 GMT

There are several partially completed posts in the Live Writer's drafts section. I don't seem able or willing to concentrate long enough to finish them, however. Probably fifteen minutes have passed since the last sentence, flipping through uninteresting channels, thinking briefly about things to do, and just ... not thinking. So, a haiku about this state of mind:

Ricochet

Skull is near empty

Thoughts quietly ricochet

It echoes in here

Peace, Doc

"One has then got to the position in which one cannot think that one cannot think about what one cannot think about because there is a rule against thinking about the X, and a rule against thinking that there is a rule against thinking that one must not think about not thinking about certain things.

If certain things cannot be thought about: and among the certain things that cannot be thought, is that there are certain things that cannot be thought, including the aforementioned thought, then: he who had complied with this calculus of anti-thoughts will not be aware that he is not aware that he is obeying a rule not to think that he is obeying a rule not to think about X. So he is not aware of X and not aware he is not aware of the rule against being not aware of X. By obeying a rule not to realize he is obeying a rule, he will deny that there is any rule he is obeying." - R. D. Laing

Here-A-Ku, There-A-Ku, Everywhere A Haiku

Thu, 13 Dec 2007 15:50:11 GMT

Having awakened several times during the night, I finally ceased resisting and arose early for the morning, remembering some dream fragments. There were several that might have inspired a haiku (or a limerick.) These are variations on the themes of past, present, and future which were interlaced into one dream. Whether you like them or not, the reader may at least be thankful that nothing was written about a portion of another dream concerning the frustration of trying to clean projectile cat poop from carpeting.

Tightly grasp your Now

Far too fast becomes your Past

Future's not yet lived

___

Learn Now's lessons well

Too soon fading into Past

There will be a quiz

___

Old man once told him

Get a good education

They can't take from you

___

Older now himself

He's come to realize that

Aging surely can

___

Unwilling to stay

In the Now, he meanders

The paths of his Past

Peace, Doc

"Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again." - Willa Cather

Thursday Morning, 3:00 A.M.

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 10:42:06 GMT

It has been quite some time since I inflicted any of my bad mood haiku upon you. I sneezed a disc out of alignment and awoke to an overenthusiastic furnace and acute lower back pain. If the following Thanksgiving haiku seem somewhat cranky, that is at least part of the reason. The haiku are not consecutive, or even necessarily related to each other except for the commonality of the muse.

Bad moon icing rain

It is not appreciative

Though given shelter

-----

Torso will not cool

Temperature far too high

Sweats in sleeping bag

-----

He writes and complains

Lamenting his misfortune

Cat sleeps in his lap

-----

Thursday morning cold

Icy rain beats window pane

Battered glass shatters
-----

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I'm thinking that mine has to get better after cleaning and bubble wrapping numerous dealer showroom model cars and car banks. The turkey sandwich won't hurt my mood, either.

Peace, Doc

"It is necessary to the happiness of a man that he be mentally faithful to himself." - Thomas Paine

Amazing Place

Wed, 14 Nov 2007 22:12:47 GMT

Old rat in new maze

Unfamiliarity

Cats and future here

Rest assured that since I am officially moved in, whatever that may turn out to mean, I will be making up for lost blogging time. I will have a few more comments and a brief pictorial about moving before my return to my usual level of abnormality, however.

Peace, Doc

"No one knows what's next, but everybody does it." - George Carlin

On The Topic Of Bad Poetry

Mon, 10 Sep 2007 13:02:12 GMT

It appears that my friends are much more tolerant of my uneducated attempts at poetry than I realized. Thank you! Should I be impressed with myself? I don't think so. I started writing a few haiku in undergraduate school. Very few, but I used them the same way as I do now - to express an emotion or to produce a brief experiential feeling. Because haiku are so short and so subjective, they are often difficult for the reader to know "what the heck was he thinkin' when he wrote that?" That was certainly proven by the recent post of Sudden Sunshine, which nobody understood in the same way as I did when I wrote it.

It seemed to me that everyone who commented got something out of it, and most got a similar feeling from it. In 17 syllables (5-7-5 format) it is often difficult to say exactly what one wants everyone to understand. I started writing haiku again when I was trying to concentrate and distill large, multi-faceted problems into small, bite-sized bits that I could then deal with more effectively. Although I follow the form, I believe I have only written one true haiku (and didn't publish it.) According to the most commonly accepted rules, I should start with the first line being a "setup" line, referring to a season or nature. The second and third lines should in some way pose a question, resolve the first line, produce a visual or other sensory experience, and so on, about the setup line. I know that, but I don't do it. I started writing them for myself and felt no obligation to stick to the traditional rules. I also do not inflict as many as I write, either on readers of this space or on poets where I publish most of those I see as fit for public viewing, Fiction Press. Yes, I have other spaces and blogs. Ooh. Now I've revealed a secret.

The link is to my poetry site at Fiction Press. If anyone decides to have a look, the whole bunch makes the most sense if you begin at the oldest and progress to the most recent. In that way, you generally follow my feelings and thoughts over the past two years. It's another peek into a shrink's mind and feelings, showing that they are very much the same as anyone else's.

Here's one I posted there, but didn't use here:

Night Light

Pixelated glow

From the fifteen-inch night light

Waking dreams captured

I believe that more readers here will understand it than did the people who critiqued it on the poetry site. (Hint; the night light is a laptop screen.)

Peace, Doc

"Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads." - Marianne Moore

Sudden Sunshine

Mon, 27 Aug 2007 03:58:04 GMT

I have been packing and pitching quite enough for one day. I'm going to do something strange(r than usual.) I will publish yet another haiku and any visitor is welcome to guess its meaning. I will reveal what I had in mind when I wrote it in the near future. I state it in that way because haiku are so short they are open to multiple interpretations. Quite possibly one of your interpretations will be better than mine.

Sudden Sunshine

Sudden sunshine strikes

Stunned, it lies still in its stench

Slowly sucked away

Peace, Doc

"Always remember that you're unique, just like everyone else." - Author Unknown

Crouching Haiku, Sleeping Author

Sun, 15 Jul 2007 10:09:45 GMT

I should probably have learned by now not to write haiku at all, let alone while I'm sleepy. I haven't.

Change

Sodoku is solved

All degrees of freedom used

No room left for change

His Mistake

Did He screw it up?

Were we meant to live so long

With memories intact?

Techno-Oops

Of us, all is known

Oops, we lost your SSN

But caught you speeding

Writing

Do not write haiku

Very early in the morn

They make you seem nuts

Peace, Doc

"I can write poetry pretty-very easily. However, I think poetry is boring and I never read it." - e8792m on youthink.com forum.

Two Haiku About Haiku

Tue, 03 Jul 2007 07:04:47 GMT

Initially I began writing haiku to help distill intrusive morbid ruminations into minimal, actionable sized bytes such that they didn't overwhelm me. Now that I have published many of them, I find that they have another very positive aspect that I did not initially anticipate.

Haiku advantage

Nobody knows if I'm wrong

Poems too cryptic

Short attention span

Not a problem with haiku

Self-esteem retained

Peace, Doc

"Where humor is concerned there are no standards - no one can say what is good or bad, although you can be sure that everyone will." - John Kenneth Galbraith

Remember

Wed, 13 Jun 2007 16:20:24 GMT

You knew I couldn't go very long without a haiku, didn't you? The problem I had with this one was whether to write it in present or past tense. It felt more "accurate" to me to write it in present tense, as it is currently an ongoing process in me, even though I am "advising" the reader to remember the future.

Escape the dungeon

Remember a new future

Return to the light

Yup, that reads better.

Peace, Doc

"Unexpected travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God." - Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

An Esoteric Yet Minimalist Haiku

Mon, 16 Apr 2007 05:47:33 GMT

I am finishing my taxes and mentally preparing for the audit, fines, and probable jail time that will almost certainly result. I get this way every year, quite likely because I put off filing my taxes till about this time every year. This may be an American's most probable, seasonally predictable phobia. I am actually trembling at the moment, thinking that I shouldn't even be taking a break to write this. So I will do the the shortest 5-7-5 haiku in my current repertoire and finish with what may be my shortest quote, except for four letter ones.

Syllabication

Unapologetically

Disproportionate

Peace, Doc

"Eschew obfuscation" - Unknown author, possibly me.

The Healer

Sun, 08 Apr 2007 06:46:36 GMT

You all must have noticed that I have been on a mission of haiku suppression recently. It has passed.

The Healer

La curandera

Mystic, human, in between

Cures despair with love

Happy Easter and may this season of renewal bring joy to us all.

Peace, Doc

"Madness need not be all breakdown. It may also be break-through. It is potential liberation and renewal as well as enslavement and existential death.” - R. D. Laing

Sara Somewhere

Wed, 21 Feb 2007 07:07:35 GMT

The Zeigarnik effect predicts that we will remember uncompleted tasks much longer and more strongly than completed ones. That would also, I believe, apply to dreams about the unattainable girl you worshipped in high school but who would never be more than a good friend. I have a repetitive dream, never the same one, but always with the same girl as the central character. She comes when I need her, sometimes as often as five or six times a year. In my last dream about her, she held me as I wept.

For Sara somewhere

Seneca, pizza, footprints,

Lips touch as I dream

Forty years and more

Pictures in my box of gone

Have not changed at all

Peace, Doc

"The last time I saw him he was walking down Lover's Lane holding his own hand." - Fred Allen

The Train

Tue, 13 Feb 2007 07:50:49 GMT

Happy Valentine's Day

Old Thomas the Train

Thinks he can; he thought he could

Learn to love again

Peace, Doc

“All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream” - Edgar Allen Poe

Nowhen Man

Wed, 31 Jan 2007 20:40:49 GMT

Empty future view

Wasting what is now given

Dwelling in his past

Longing for the past

Numb to the possible now

Future hope is gone

Peace, Doc

Ssssssssssssssssss.

Mon, 22 Jan 2007 07:58:00 GMT

Aging Resentfully

He sits, awaiting

A repair for the slow leaks

Caused by time's passage

Peace, Doc

"True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country." - Kurt Vonnegut

"Old age is the most unexpected of all the things that happen to a man." - Leon Trotsky

"There is still no cure for the common birthday." - John Glenn

Two Very Special Women

Tue, 12 Dec 2006 22:27:33 GMT

Helen

You died to bear me

Your choice was to give me life

How free was your will?

Dead for sixty years

Since you chose not to abort

Am I what you hoped?

Annie's Visit

Annie was with me

Spectacular subtlety

Embedded in REM

So lifelike the dream

We slept beside each other

I heard her breathing

Peace, Doc

Guardian

Fri, 13 Oct 2006 07:10:56 GMT

Worried furry face

Watching over me in death

As I wake in tears

Peace, Doc

Sunday Thought

Sun, 01 Oct 2006 21:21:29 GMT

Friends to enemies

Tangled webs we often weave

Enemy to friend

Image we project

Inner selves to best protect

Liars, jesters, thieves

Peace, Doc

WWW

Sun, 24 Sep 2006 05:57:35 GMT

This was written a few months ago and published elsewhere. It seemed that all the reviews of it were from different perspectives. I will just leave it here and see if anyone has an opinion.

Victims writhe till stilled

World Wide Web so aptly named

Spiders’ traps await

Be careful out there.

Peace, Doc

Stinky Haiku for Two

Mon, 04 Sep 2006 19:16:42 GMT

I have noticed Google searches for people who have commented and/or are on my friends list showing up in my stats. If you receive an offensive or harassing comment on your space, please realize that it is most likely directed toward me and not at you. Please email me a copy and paste of it so it can be dealt with appropriately. One of the two trolls below will have written it.

This is dedicated to R and G. R; Did Gage enjoy the movie he won in July? G; Have you checked the comment after yours at Bruce's video mentioned previously? These are just minor indications of what may come if you persist.

Fecal crania

Slithering in the sewers

Of their minds and souls

Peace, Doc

Just Another Haiku

Sat, 02 Sep 2006 03:06:41 GMT

I doubt that it will make any difference what I post here. All the fun is downstairs in the Comment Lounge. So all you get is another downer haiku.

Thoughts most unpleasant

Awaiting the little death

Of unsettled sleep

Peace, Doc

Woozles

Mon, 21 Aug 2006 06:11:00 GMT

Even I do not know where this one came from. A mention of lawyers simply occurred and led me here.

Weasels aren’t Woozles

They bite and then run away

Don’t ask one to play

Peace, Doc

Neuropsychology

Sun, 23 Jul 2006 15:38:17 GMT

Cognitive decline

Brain morphed to purple Jello

Just as he was taught

Peace, Doc

Paperwork

Mon, 03 Jul 2006 00:53:56 GMT

Something the dinosaurs didn’t have to be concerned about!

Birth, marriage, and death

Certificates for all, prove

We once walked the earth

Peace, Doc

Toothless-ku

Wed, 14 Jun 2006 04:50:46 GMT

I suspect you may be less interested in this topic than I am. Then again, it is inside my mouth and not yours now. It does give one a different perspective. So I’ll write another haiku.

Teeth torn from their home

Tongue exploring their absence

Mouth is chewing soup

Peace, Doc

Another Shade of Green

Sun, 07 May 2006 23:31:17 GMT

This variation of the haiku “Green” is based on a comment from silverylizard. In the original, I was envisioning the shade of green that one sees when the sun is low on the horizon and reflecting a very color saturated shade of green from the undersides of leaves and shrubs. In this one, the experience described is of the cool greenness of a forest on a sunny day.

Blinding bright sunshine

Filtered down through cool green leaves

Becomes calm and peace

Peace, Doc

Green

Sat, 29 Apr 2006 10:04:08 GMT

No, the name the kitty contest is not over yet. Feel free to continue submitting entries. I have seen so many that I like for various reasons that I don't know how to choose a winner yet. Maybe you'll all win. You're already all winners as far as I'm concerned. If I do that, I suppose I'll have to figure out a way to give each entrant a prize they might like. I'll figure it out (which is what I say when I haven't a clue.) Just so I don't go too long between blogs, I'll post another haiku. This one is more in harmony with the original intent of true haiku in that it evokes a sensation or emotion without really "telling a story."

Green

Essence of color

Eyes closed see the green of leaves

Just before sunset

Peace, Doc

Attack-the-Cat

Thu, 20 Apr 2006 08:22:35 GMT

Play attack-the-cat

Roll, pet, hiss, pounce, and tickle

Feel-good time for both

Peace, Doc

Sedated or Numb

Mon, 10 Apr 2006 07:53:42 GMT

Please people; remember that this is poetry (no matter how bad.) It does reflect real feelings but is not an imminent suicide threat.

Sedated coma

The cat cradled in his arms

IV stops his heart

Goodness gone from life

Barren, sterile, and alone

Losses brought to fore

Debt and poverty

Life spent helping, no reward

Hope not even here

No body to hold

No cures left but die or try

To cry and stay numb

Peace, Doc