Monday, January 27, 2025
Sunday, January 26, 2025
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
Friday, January 24, 2025
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 knowthat 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
Thursday, January 23, 2025
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 bloomedlike 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
Tuesday, January 21, 2025
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