"Metallic Traces"

Metallic traces, yesterday's

steel blues. Metallic traces,

how her mouth tasted--well, it

tasted real. Traces of mercury

in rivers, iron from sloughing

ships at sea's bottom. Everything

that made sense doesn't make

sense anymore. What was all

that foundry forging for? 

Metallic traces, old radio

antennas still seizing sounds

from air and passing them 

along though no one's hearing

because no one's listening. 

hans ostrom 2020

Bravissima

Her frown made me sad--

kind of like tired, pliable carrots

do. Whereas her perfume

delighted like a flower concert

played by multicolored clouds. 

When she talked, I heard

her words as vocal chords

thrummed into the present

moment. And when she 

smiled at me--at me!--

well, I wanted to applaud

in a way that voiced

desire for an encore,

for me an encore.  

hans ostrom 2020

"The Waning Moon," by Percy Bysshe Shelley

 Reading/video of a short poem by the famous British Romantic poet, Shelley, 1792-1822. Husband of Mary Shelley.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KjBy-Bx8C-k

"Sand Dunes," by Robert Frost

 Reading/video of a poem by Robert Frost:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_WNxEcwiTzI

"Not Safe for Work?"

 Reading/video of a poem by moi, posted in 2012, if memory serves:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DE4wsnikXto

"Optimistic Man," by Nazim Hikmet

 Reading/video of a short poem by the highly regarded Turkish poet Hikmet:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HVDwjAplVwk

"For My Grandmother," by Countee Cullen

 Quatrain-poem by Cullen (1903-1946), reading/video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7AKO2danfBQ

"Words," by Shinkichi Takahashi

 Reading/video of a short poem by the prolific Japanese poet:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yj80kqz4gr4

"Silence," by Langston Hughes

 Reading/video of short poem by Langston Hughes:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f39Xqpho_rc

"Working Together," by David Whyte

 Reading/video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFvoRb7ns9I

Meet the Snake

The temperature

of wherever I

am becomes my

mood. My gold

eyes come from

Earth's first fires.

I taste air with

my tongue,

unhinge my jaws,

and swallow

something to 

kill hunger. 

Something live.

It dies inside

me squirming.

I coil in cold,

lengthen in

heat, walk

with my belly,

always watching

for hawks. I'm

nothing like you

think I am. I'm

not your Garden

Tempter: that's

your dream. I

keep a pale blue

gem in the middle

of my mind.

hans ostrom 2020

Moon Street

The Swedes call it mångata:

Moon Street. It's the reflection

of a low hanging moon

on lake or sea, crafting illusion

of avenue narrowing to a point

out there, with dark water 

as unlit pavement on both

sides. Mind may take you

on a stroll down Moon Street--

you'll be the only traffic.

Yes, you're walking slow

down the avenue on solid

light, going to talk to a cool

sphere, with its round, humorous

face and droll attitude.

Moon Street is a good location.

hans ostrom 2020

Transformation: Party Guest

One day I turned into a statue.

It happened at a small outdoor party.

As usual, people were either ignoring

me or shooting talk at me. I was 

about to say thanks to the hosts

and leave when I realized

my body had shifted to become

gray speckled stone. Granite man. 

I was inflexibly pleased.

I had not a single desire, not

even the desire to have no

desires. By the time I turned

back into a proper person,

the party had ended, the hosts

had sold the house and left

town, and the city's climate

had changed. It was time for me

to be getting back home.

hans ostrom 2020