MM

MM

Only one friend saw me run
off then waited to buy Dad’s
H and O set, you
knew I would be back for Mom’s
meal. Only one made sure I

walked off the
altar, part of the number
two wedding in Rochester
history,
alone, but still a

member, one knee bent among
Oak Hill’s finest, singing to
the new bride: “you lost
that loving feeling: without
knowing the words, waiting to

clip the tail
off some pompous hired
gun, but no…your eighth ace, at
the Monroe
Invitational,

Tad was there,
and you came seeking growth stocks
to a land
where big swallows small
before growth happens,

said either
one was worth ten times the fee
as manure
course got in the way
of conversation.

Copyright, Doug Stuber, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Bulgarika Symposium

DSC_0734-002

Bulgarika Symposium

 

We sit inside, out

of the sun, telling

tall tales, short tales, and

fairy tales,

the inescapable psyche

of the group

as found in folklore, culture

and problem of how

individuals

fit in to these strange boxes.

Pakistan enters

as does the question:

“How well do you speak

Korean?”

I know none or little, so

this question

continues to haunt every

corner of the globe.

Some are hard find

like Camilla, Luiza,

and those who

insist on painting.  I wait

for liquid

acrylic paint but

have had some fun with

sand and oil

for textured beachside backgrounds

between sweet photos

of passing

bikini bottoms.

DSC_0710-002

Copyright, Doug Stuber, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Edo Palace Mix

Edo Palace Mix

Takae, so simple, fluttering on the wind of vegetarian
existence, refusing to eat up more than her share,
presenting herself a second time, but finding no taker,
is less than joyous, yet remains so gentle. Two swans
glide, bobbing for minnows, mated for life, fed by ample
moat, seen by hundreds each day. Mostly Takae yearns
to be the swan on the right, head held up, pet of the palace.
Instead, like the sour gooseberry picker, Chekhov’s Nikolay,
she labors at city hall. Better, like the clerk job Kafka had, or
Poe’s daily grind, Takae, so full of wonder, but now resentment
too, as youth slips into middle age with no permanent necker,
glider, lover to snuggle with. Yellow petunias with purple eyes
stretch open to us, and I think that Takae will see this exact
pattern and find comfort having spent a day in Chiba
with friends that will, over time, form a second base.
A dream fulfilled erases previous disappointment. How to
meld dreams into the closeness that supports? Elephant ear
plants glisten under gray. Bamboo rustles, imperial reminder
that one generation can be the foundation of new style, culture,
love, beauty, art, strength, ethics, for centuries to come.