At dusk
she reclines, agoddess infused with gold
light, luxuriant in liquid
soft warmth.
hans ostrom 2025
painting by Alphonse Mucha (1899)
Friday, January 31, 2025
Thursday, January 30, 2025
Sine Qua Non
It's good to watch faces
show the brains' searchfor phrasing. Blank stare,
bunched brow, light in eyes--
words stored in neural bins,
plucked out, strung like beads,
then shipped in blood-drawn
carts along nervous roads
to mouth and tongue and
lips: "Sine qua non--that's it."
And the listenerr repeats:
"Sine qua non--right."
hans ostrom 2025
Monday, January 27, 2025
Winter Samba
(song lyric)
I find I need to feel my feet
On Ipanema sand
And see the supple bodies -
So lithe and tawny tan.
I conjure up Brazilian heat -
And sense the
sultry sun.
I crave the fiery chill
of
Cold rum on my tongue.
Play
a winter samba
To
melt my soul’s cold ice.
A
soft & sultry samba -
The
sound of paradise.
Play
a winter samba
That
sways just like a palm
Beside
a breezy beach -
The
ocean bright and calm.
Winter wears me down
-
The city’s gray and cold.
The forecast every day’s
The old same-old same-old.
Who are all these strangers
Who sneeze and cough on me?
I spend my evening shivering,
In front of the TV.
Chorus
Buffalo and Cleveland,
Detroit, Ontario.
Winter wants to strangle them.
Winter won’t let go.
Seattle and Chicago,
Berlin and Paris, too.
The rain and snow and darkness
Dye all our spirits blue.
How much are flights to Rio?
Okay - I’ll check
online.
Do I have Brazilian cousins
Who own a silver mine?
Chorus
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
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