Thursday, February 05, 2015

Lemony Sprinkled Moments

Newel Owl, Darling House, Santa Cruz, CA
—Darling House Photos by Katy Brown, Davis, CA
—Poems by B.Z. Niditch, Brookline, MA


Watching from a telescope
heights of stars
after my bicycle
rests along the Bay
meeting a sailor
who caught yellow jack
in islands far from home
here at a frozen shore
ice fishing in a few holes
that he plummets
in halting waves on waters
at the home harbor anchors
rescuing my orange kayak
anchored for the spring
as a Canadian robin appears
along the shore.



Riding on my bicycle
with a broken right arm
and break in shoulder
from soccer practice
hurting from a bully's wound
in those days of Mercurochrome
still smarting
on your body of thought
when left with a shadow of memory
as your eyelids smoulder
over a first leather jacket
from your birthday party
after seeing a James Dean movie
here in the sunlit January thaw
you walk with a free ticket
to the Cape Ann museum
a pug on the sidewalk
accompanies you
with a Van Gogh postcard
still intact
in your side pocket
under your broken sunglasses
from yesterday's assaults
of an insensate encounter
you climb up the art house steps
waiting to visit the moderns
taking out your oils,
notebook and poet's pen
unwilling to take any blame
for being an original.

 Gazing Ball


Remembering days
when this snow blizzard
like today hit us
back in 1978
and taking my bicycle
through deep mounds
and finding the last
date and nut bread
in the food mart
escaping by the river
watching the shipwrecks
in the docks
of the home harbor
going away
with your camera-ready lines
as the sky admits a blue pastel
from the cirrus clouds
in these waterlogged moments
near the Frog Pond
finding a huge turtle
for the aquarium
where sister gives lectures
it starts to rain
by the abandoned shore
feeling like the stone's memory
in my schoolyard years.



A Beat poet
cooped up all winter
like a canary
from a runaway cage
tired of TV screens
and faded old films
clouded over
his bloodshot eyes
wanting a red French wine
takes out his sax
to play riffs along the beech
as a former student eyes me
near the rocky shore
mentions his acid weekend trip
terrorized from a water bed
abandoned from home
and his made-up
spiritual exercises of Nietzsche
with a crusade
against his lost girlfriend
shows me his balancing act
in his disturbed universe
by throwing a football
from the Patriots
telling him a Chinese proverb,
"Tension is who you think
you should be, relaxation
is who you are."

 Still Life


The enemy soldiers
smile and gaze
as your furniture
and personal pictures
are being removed,
then you are taken away,
there are few
photos of you left
bathing on the sea
or up on skis
or on a white mountain
no one to greet you
in the city market
without any fruit
or vegetables
in a time of war
reporters visit
after the horror
who now stare
at your losses.



"Have a nice day"
say the living neighbors
who do not envy the lost
as news reports
on victims' ashes
in Europe and Asia
cannot speak or reply
to the unthinkable
in an absence of gazes
from tiny snapshots
ex camera
in a former life
concealed among caves
and white stones
along the beach
your luminous eyes
cannot hide ourselves
or the unspeakable.

 Corner Detail


How words and paint capture
the haze and atmosphere
reading a sense of light
and surge of water colors
covering chimney and roofs
from our racing pulse
and untamed mouths
eyeing genius in our glances
from a disappeared sunshine
between two misty worlds
of Romantic poet
and landscape artist
motioning seasonal images
in our still lives.


Today's LittleNip:


In a precious enlightenment
from the sun at Delft
our mind pulls back
from a canal of time
brighter than a memory
with a Dutch master
and French novelist
drinking from a Chinese tea glass
with a fresh madeleine
met with yellow reflections
from the windows
remembered of a still life
in a lemony sprinkled moment.



Window Detail