This Side of the River

 

Over many seasons

I waited and waited

for the river's waters

to recede so that I

might safely cross,

perhaps by using

boulders as stepping

stones. Perhaps

by sloshing throw

a manageable 

current. The water

never lowered.

If I tried to wade, I'd

drown. If I rowed

a boat, the waterfall's

catract would

devour me. No bridges

in sight. Thus

I announced to

myself that this side

of ther river 

is the place I want

to be--my destination,

my desire, my smoke

and my fire. I love 

it over here!

hans ostrom 2025

Caravan played by Monk in Berlin, 1969

Counter-Invictus

 a poem in conversation with William Ernest Henley's "Invictus"

Out of the day that covers me,
Gray as the gray of dull wool,
I think what gods may hang around
To remind me I'm a fool.

When things have gone quite wrong,
I've acted well or badly or okay,
Up to the challenge sometimes, sometimes
Not: One can't predict which way.

Beyond this sphere of our mortality,
Lies who knows what for sure?
Hell, yes, I am afraid to die,
To go forever from Is to Were.

To say you are the Captain of
Your fate is bluster or delusion
For accidents happen all the time.
And Captains sail into confusion.

If there is such a thing as Fate,
Then It is the big fleet's Admiral,
And we, alas, at best passengers.
So how much can we control?

hans ostrom 2022/2025

New Retail

You go to a new shop

to buy food, clothing,

or a book. A fresh

set of faces blossoms

there. Some faces glow.

Some flow around you slowly

like flowers on a sluggish

creek's surface.

hans ostrom 2025

Walking in Snow

You're walking in snow,

knowing you know
that you're heaving breath,
  that your feet sink with each step,
  that your face gets raw from cold.

Watch your lungs make clouds.
Listen to wind stir trees
and see it tease
  boughs into dumping snow.
    A deep blue, black-headed
      Steller's jay lands on a liberated
        branch. And cack-cack-cackles.

This small unclothed, unshod
creature finds hilarity in snow
  You do not.
    Do not.
      Just don't.

hans ostrom 2025

It’s racism, bigotry and inevitable demographic change

Today, In Its Way

Today is today. I must not forget.

It teaches me to live in its niche.
On this street, by that purple tree.
With those birds,--black, blue,
speckled, gray. orange.

It leads me to eat this daily bread,
not bread made of promises or dread,
of regrets, threats, or plans, but of
Now's flour, water, yeast, and salt.

Today softly slaps my face
and tells me what people
I must help, what people
help me.  Don't go messin'
around with other days,
you dumb ass,  says today.
In its way.

hans ostrom 2024

Cloud Honey

Somebody planted flowers

in the clouds. They bloomed
like fine sunrises. In squadrons
bees took off from every land
to fly up there. Later in the season,

bee hives rose like temples.
Honey drizzled down on us.
Sweet rain. Was it sticky,
golden brown, and sweet?
Was it problematic? Oh,
yes, oh yes it was indeed.

hans ostrom 2025

OMG! Trump Gives DISASTER SPEECH to DAVOS FORUM

NO ADDRESS — Official Trailer (2025)

It Must Be Heaven (2019) - Trailer (International)

Coupons

"I first got married at 17,"

said the cashier, as she dragged
my stuff's bar-codes across
the mysterious prone mirror.

I didn't know what her forearm's
tattoos represented. To me
they stayed abstract &
so I liked them very much.

She continued: "He was a sweet
guy but not very smart." "You,"
she added, "saved 20 dollars
on your groceries today."

"Thank you very much," I said.
"Of course!" she said--which seems
to be what people say now
instead of "You're welcome."

hans ostrom 2025

It Burns Low

 Today I've been talking

to dead people. To my Pops,
who stays alive through
a post-mortem force of will.
And to Ma, who is I'm sure
glad to be past life. To an
aunt or two and friends
who went away too, too early.

To James Baldwin, whom
I met once but who wonders
who is this person? I tell him
his book, The Fire Next Time,
which I found in the back of a
classroom and read at 17,
changed my life. No response.

I spoke briefly to some people
who went out of their way
to be unkind to me. I find
I didn't have much to say
to them. Nor did they to me.
They are smoke, and truly,
my own fire burns low.

hans ostrom 2025