A poem for Soni

A late entry for Totally Optional Prompts' request for a 'romantic poem.' I have a romantic streak (perhaps it's only sentimental – someone who should know told me there was no romantic bone in me), but usually write about other people in any love stories I write. Well, this one is all about me myself I and hopefully not too embarrassing.

For Soni

A lightning bolt of pure joy struck
as our eyes and then hands met
that evening at the puja.

It made me wonder for a split second
whether both of us had tied hands
with the wrong ones –
you with your scowling bumbling boyfriend,
I with my pretty preening wife.

Now my wife has left for good,
and your boyfriend did finally get a job
in far-away Cologne.

The image of your radiant dark face,
set off so beautifully by your thick white sweater,
the feel of your small, courageous hand in mine
have been alive in my mind for months.

And yet I do not call.
Could one intense moment I felt
mean something?
Were you struck like me?

Heated imagination, I tell myself, hogwash.
And might never know for sure.

– Leonard Blumfeld

Message in a bottle

The Teach at Work of the Poet tagged me for Mimi's Message in a Bottle meme. The picture above shows my very simple 3-word message.

Here are the rules for participation in this meme:

You are about to send a virtual Message In a Bottle across the Blog Ocean. Leave a message in the sand or on the bottle. Write anything you wish. Be a pirate or a poet. Serious or silly. Anonymous or not. What message would you like to send out to the universe?

1. Compose a message to place in your virtual bottle.
2. Right click and SAVE the blank graphic below.

3. Use a graphics program of your choice to place the message on the picture.
4. Post the Message In a Bottle meme and your creation on your blog along with these rules.
5. Tag a minimum of 5 bloggers - or your entire blogroll - to do the same. Notify them of the tag. Your virtual bottle will remain afloat in the blogosphere ocean for all blogernity (that's a Mimism for blog + eternity.)

So, if you are tagged by me, go over to Mimi's and ADD your site to her Mr. Linky list and place your blog's name and url in a comment HERE TO LET MIMI KNOW YOU'VE COMPLETED THE MEME. Mimi will add it to the master list of message bottles. Email mimiwrites2005 at yahoo.com if you have questions. Participation is optional. Just remember she has a dungeon ... and some of you are STILL there from the Band Meme. Have fun!

I'm tagging:
Fourbourne @ Fourbourne
Myrtle Beached Whale @ Myrtle Beach Ramblings
Gautami Tripathy @ Rooted
Tumblewords @ Tumblewords
Laura Scarlett @ Laura Scarlett

Intrepid little bird

Intrepid Little Bird (2006)
Acrylic on kraft paper

Inspire Me Thursday's proposition for this week was:

Action Painting

This week let us be inspired by Action Painting, a “style of painting in which paint is spontaneously dribbled, splashed or smeared onto the canvas, rather than being carefully applied.” Think Jackson Pollock, the American Abstract Expressionist painter who was fond of huge canvases on the floor, applying paint with a stick or other objects, using a ‘drip’ technique, walking around the canvas, being ‘in the painting.’

I was immediately reminded of a series of paintings I did in 2006, for which I partially used a drip technique. What I call "Intrepid Little Bird" above is just a small section of a larger painting done with a combination of dripping and rolling.

– Leonard Blumfeld

Dread, dread

Meeting with "superior" coming up this afternoon – some fundamentals will need to be discussed.
I'm working for two teams. She heads one of them and doesn't like the fact that I also work for the other. The people in hers are more problematic.
I hate sitting between chairs!

In sleep

In sleep mysteries rise,
mysteries rise in sleep.

Towards morning especially
mysteries rise in sleep.

Air lifts and sudden dives
rise in the morning in sleep.

Corridors and blocked passages,
dimly lit dives rise in sleep.

A forgotten name and a rose
this morning rose in sleep.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2008)

Note
Written in response to Sunday Scribblings' prompt

#98 - Sleep (and/or Teeth)

Sorry about the missing teeth. None have risen in sleep lately.

The form I'm using here is loosely based on the ghazal.

My darling daughter’s got a relapse of the terrible twos

Quick.
Someone.
You there....
Trip her.
– Rhian

I’m making pakoras
for a crowd, my hands are full,
and she is spinning like a top,
stopping only to push
the pink button again
when La Bamba’s over
on the dratted pink kid
cassette player granny
gave her on her birthday.
And off she goes again
with that exhilarated grin,
that evil chuckle on her chin...
You there, Maria, quick:
get her, grab her ...
before she trips herself.

– Len “Parent Rewarded” Blumfeld (© 2008)

Sparked by the reading of Rhian's poem for Monday Poetry Train #43.

More questions than directions

Today's horoscope said:

Concentrating on the job at hand might be more difficult than it normally is for you. You'll much rather be lying on a sandy beach than checking items off your to-do list, with today's alignments influencing you. Try your best to stay focused on why you're doing what you do. If you stay focused on the prize, you'll have an easier time of it.

• My hands are on the job, even though somewhat reluctantly.
• Sandy beach ... Yearn! Sound good. How about in Puglia, around Italy's heel?
• What are today's alignments?
• All right, I'll try to stay focused. But why am I doing what I am doing? Big question!
• What prize?

Leonard "Somewhat Puzzled" B.

Blurry face

Section of "Blurry Face"
Gouache and oil crayon, 2004

Posted for Inspire Me Thursday's "Faces" theme.

Cold cold poem

In response to today's Sunday Scribblings:

#97 - "Fridge Space"

I know it sounds a little strange, but the prompt this week is: "Fridge Space."

Here's some balm for someone in need I ran into today – can't offer more because I don't know her that well:

Cold cold poem

for an affected heart

Angelica, you are perturbed,
I see it,

your eyes are dark
and deep and dulled,

your short curls
are matted down.

You look demure,
obedient to destiny.

I want to help you.
Do not believe

in fate. Rebel.
Take this fridge-born

poem unbeknownst,
take it to cool

your aching heart
and mind. Expand,

return to life.

– Leonard Blumfeld

Time flies by ...

and you're not getting anything accomplished.

Ever had one of those days?

It's shaping up to be one for me, and frantic activity does not seem to be the answer. That seems to equate wheel spinning and rubber burning (smoke and stench – oh no!).

But:

• The sun's out brightly
• A placid plane is making its way in the baby blue sky
• I bet there are many people aboard who are doing something productive ... like sleeping, blowing their noses, reading fun trashy novels, getting acquainted with their neighbors or hoping their neighbors won't disturb them*, waiting for the next meal, etc.
• Wouldn't mind being on a plane myself ... going somewhere
• ... instead of sitting here at work not getting anywhere.

Cheers!

Len "Not So Inspired Workhorse"

* Ever read Anne Tyler's Accidental Tourist? (Highly recommendable – the movie, starring William Hurt, Kathleen Turner, Geena Davis and Bill Pullman, is also quite good.) Then you know what to do in order to prevent communication with fellow travelers.