Tag Archives: spring

Spring, 2020

April. Already Magnolias contemplate white Silences to come. How many will we see wither And die while May petals fall?

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May, Clumsy as Always

May fumbled slowly Through another night last night Against dark, cold earth The first magnolia opened I know I heard silk tearing

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Take it to the Bank, Cassandra

Downtown in April From high in a ragged spruce In the bank’s back lot Like an unheeded alarm A fledgling crow’s lonely squawk

Posted in Capitalism, Corporate Capitalism, Crows, Delusional thinking, Hunger, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie Poetry, Malnutrition, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Political Commentary, Poverty, Protest poems, Social Commentary, Spring, Tanka | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

In the Spring Ditches

And now springtime comes Casting its green illusions As the south wind gasps The pussy willows waver In damn ditches already

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When the Magnolia Stands in the Wind

When the sun comes up in the morning On some ragged green day in May The magnolia will open its blossoms, Plant its fragrance square in your way. You’ll stand there with your bare face hung out As you realize … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Biology, Chemistry, Death, Delusional thinking, Epistemology, Evolution, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie Poetry, Magnolias, Memory, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Quatrains, Science, Skepticism, Spring, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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How often in March Counting the lengthening thaws Between ice and snow Do you listen for wild geese Straining against the moon’s weight?

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Cinquain in Late March

Cattails rattle, icy in the marsh; snow muffles the fields—and no geese call yet, wild, joyful

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Serendipitous Collaboration

The image embedded lower in this post came to me courtesy of Matt Trussell, who lives beside a bog somewhere in Maine. I don’t know much more about him other than that he is quite pleasant in communication, likes baseball, … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Baseball, Collaboration, Fantasy Baseball, John MacKenzie, Matt Trussell, Poetry, Process, Red-winged blackbird, Serendipity, Spring | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Full Moon Tonight

Last night on Facebook, an old friend posted a photo of the moon seen through cherry blossoms. Cherry blossoms demand haiku. The Full Moon Tonight for Sue Hughson The full moon tonight— just one more brief, white blossom in the cherry tree

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Connaught Square

Who mourns these elms, diseased, inconsolate, their long, undulant limbs dropping leaves earlier each year, small disasters splitting the rough bark of lesser branches, peeling it away from the tips down, little by little, while the wood begins to silver … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Autumn, Charlottetown, Dutch elm disease, Elms, John MacKenzie, Language, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Social Commentary, Sonnet, Spring, The Rain, The Wind, Time, Winter | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Old Men In Love

Old men in love, awakening stiff In their joints and contemplating the hard Task of getting up into the day, Dream of past mornings. They remember cocked Hips and bent knees, and the pressing Engagements that rose reliably as green … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Autumn, Consciousness, Harbour, Hillsborough River, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Social Commentary, Sonnet, Spring, Summer, Tide, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Thing with Feathers

A late May frost overnight and in the grey light of dawn breath hangs visible in air still and cold as autumn. From the square a block over a cacophony of crows sounds, tormenting a fox into short, harsh shrieks. … Continue reading

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Wednesday Morning in Spring

At dawn (under the precise compass arc of the last half-round of moon, blackbirds and chickadees gather in a flutter of thin dark wings on the lagging lindens’ bare black branches of May to sing slight variations on their old songs … Continue reading

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Mid-May Quatrain

Under the swelling moon last night the tips of magnolia petals flushed. Now the willow’s first green threads lengthen, tangled in the spring wind.

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Right There

Gulls skirmish above the cormorants—I guess that’s black and white

Posted in Charlottetown, Cormorants, Epistemology, Gulls, Haiku, Harbour, John MacKenzie, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, The Sea, The Sky | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

May Afternoon

Magnolia buds creaking open to wide white blossom. Gulls over the harbour, shrill under the silent moon.

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Charlottetown, Chinese poetry, Gulls, Harbour, John MacKenzie, Magnolias, Micropoetry, New poems, Parallelism, Poem tweets, Poetry, Quatrains, Spring, The Moon, The Sea, The Sky | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Another Year in the Minors

April Between pitches, the left fielder counts the green threading slow through last year’s yellow grass May Behind him the lilacs shiver at his passage, scent each throw back to the infield with desire June Scuffing his toes at the … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Autumn, Baseball, Cosmology, Gravity, John MacKenzie, Language, Lilacs, Mathematics, Memory, Minor league baseball, New poems, Physics, Poem tweets, Poetry, Sabermetrics, Space, Spring, Summer, The Sky | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Step Away from the Buddha: brief notes on reading and response, and on salvaging Haiku (and Two Haiku for April 22)

Spring is here, and, with it, a volume of Japanese Death Poems (compiled by Yoel Hoffmann) sent to me by Andrew Griffin. This book sat on my shelf for a few weeks as I gradually overcame my distaste for the … Continue reading

Posted in Andrew Griffin, Art is lies, Art is theft, Chinese poetry, Japanese Poetry, John MacKenzie, Magnolias, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetics, Poetry, Process, Spring, The Wind | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Voyeur Moon

Flat, round, the April moon presses into the sky— cold, white nose against dark glass in the night

Posted in Art is lies, Cinquain, John MacKenzie, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, The Moon, The Sky | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Two Versions of a Cinquain for the First Day of Spring

1 Warm, wet, the spring wind gets in everywhere—stirring curtains, tugging and loosening clothing 2 Stirring curtains, tugging and loosening clothing, the spring wind gets in everywhere, warm, wet

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