—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis
RUNNING MEN
—B.Z. Niditch
(After one of my favorite abstract paintings
by the Italian Sandro Chia, 1982)
It's a hot blue dawn
by open windows
on the Bay's edge,
running men
sure of their laps
as in the painting by
Sandro Chia
here for the marathon
in perpetual heat.
_____________________
BY MY WINDOW
—B.Z. Niditch
—B.Z. Niditch
(After one of my favorite abstract paintings
by the Italian Sandro Chia, 1982)
It's a hot blue dawn
by open windows
on the Bay's edge,
running men
sure of their laps
as in the painting by
Sandro Chia
here for the marathon
in perpetual heat.
_____________________
BY MY WINDOW
—B.Z. Niditch
On a sunny afternoon
in an easy chair
imagining by windows
our pre air-conditioned
precursors centuries before
is to answer nature
back with Wordsworth
and Coleridge
in a Romantic way,
or hearing Fingal's Cave
an overture
is to feel safe
from earth tremors,
and all-absorbing news
here to fathom nature,
human or otherwise, leads
me back to fix the window.
______________________
______________________
TRANSPARENCY
—B.Z. Niditch
To make up
for any time lost
by a cafe with a cup
Monet blue
reach out by the wharf
to the home harbor,
turning my camera lens
toward the lucky gazebo
along an impressionist sea
a painter brushes
past the tourist stop
near my parked bicycle,
offering me a free lunch.
_______________________
IN THE MUSEUM GARDEN
—B.Z. Niditch
You sit in the Zen garden
like Rodin
without explanation
or how the day
is mild,
the sun, glorious
as gardenias
and you, speechless
close to yellow roses
near a window to nature
reaching out for words.
_______________________
BY HOCKNEY'S POOL
—B.Z. Niditch
Morning fades from sunrise
along Hockney's pool
by art's full window
there is no departure
in neon rapture
between earth and sky
as Hockney on the Coast
paints in the shade
his own gestures
opening up
for eternity's exhibition.
Dry Thistles
—Photo by Katy Brown
ARRIVALS ON RETREAT
—B.Z. Niditch
In the retreat
it's about time
to explore Merton
by ripened morning glories
and tune out the night,
on a green sleeve window
from storehoused memory
and sing sightless
from silent meditation.
___________________
FALL AND RISE
—B.Z. Niditch
In your absence
sunflowers
at the stained glass
windows for a visit
to a glazed new light
in a remote town
afire with fullness
of the prophets' words
in midst of olive groves
recalling the Zen garden's
first-blown breezes
on your sweated brow.
____________________
ON HOLD
—B.Z. Niditch
Words jump at you
by lakeside windows
putting my time on hold
where larks light on
all the aspen trees
here by a Monet shore line
of wild flowers, sitting violets
hyacinth and honeysuckle,
celebrating in liquid quiet
every incredulity of summer.
_____________________
HALL'S POND
—B.Z. Niditch
Leaning from my window
a noonday sun motions
at the beginning of dawn
by birches
anchored nearby
leaves and sparrows,
now dancing over branches
through dazzled whirlwinds,
even the pond and sky
are in a blue jay flutter,
astonished to be glimpsed
by a daybreak poet.
_____________________
PAGE AFTER PAGE
—B.Z. Niditch
In the public library
immensities of words
underline our solitary time
of windowed nature
only your own mask
is never taken off
or renewed
nor does the sea beckon
for the city street lamps
enlightening beyond
your own desk
in a dark corner
without a muse or echo
only the hidden eyes
drop shadows
on little alembic screens.
_____________________
Today's LittleNip:
Today's LittleNip:
CITY CAB
—B.Z. Niditch
Passing a night ambulance
hearing Coltrane's riffs,
those lively fragments
making life on the asphalt
more than posthumous
for a city poet lost in traffic.
____________________
____________________
—Medusa
John Dorsey featured at a recent
Foam at the Mouth reading in Sacramento
—Photo by Michelle Kunert
[For more of Michelle's photos, see
Medusa's most recent Facebook album]
