quiet poet
the home of sherku and other verse I write
Tuesday, February 07, 2023
Ghazal: rough sleepers
Saturday, February 04, 2023
Ghazal: trial balloon
Wednesday, January 25, 2023
Ghazal: is it live?
Don't say AI, say what it really is; artificial intelligence.
yes artificial for sure, not really sure if it is
intelligent yet. Is it live or is it Memorex
Yet another shiny object catches attention, draws
the media talking heads briefly and all too superficially
discuss the latest. Is it live or is it Memorex
The daily writing or reflection time can center oneself
in comfort and solitude, can allow for putting things
into perspective Is it live or is it Memorex
AI is an algorithm based upon data, the data set could be
Good to use or worthless depending upon what the data
is trying to anticipate Is it live or is it Memorex
One talented individual with a high vocal range
Can hit the proper note, the proper pitch
To shatter fragile glass and ask is it live or is it Memorex
Kenyan proverb, the sun will rise tomorrow, simple in what
It says and just as important in what it doesn’t say;
Will we see the sun rise tomorrow? Is it live or is it Memorex
Monday, January 23, 2023
Ghazal: Thoreau's chairs
Sunday, January 08, 2023
Ghazal: street people
Forward, occasionally stopping to
Pick up a coin from the concrete sidewalk
Coins used to be good currency
For vending machines and toll booths; now
They seem to be tossed to the sidewalk
What will become of 'Dropping a dime'
When there are no functioning phone booths
At the corner stores or along the sidewalk
I considered it a lucky day when I would
Find a penny, or a quarter, now it seems I can
Hit a jackpot of coins along the sidewalk
Spending has become a plastic swipe
Coins will jingle only in pockets of the people
Who pickup the coins from the sidewalks
What will become of the city street people
Who would ask for spare change as they
Mingled at the corner stores on the sidewalk
Ghazal: both sides now
Monday, January 02, 2023
Ghazal: 3 words for 2023
I traveled 300 miles to bend over, cup my hands for snow crusted
at the driveway edge making the first snowball
of the season, cold and full of life
A straightened wire clothes hanger, same as my father taught me
to use to fish something from a hard place, was lying
on the edge of their driveway, cold and full of life
You can despair when the band of clouds hides what could be
a glorious sunset, or turn and look the other way to see
a white orb in the distance, cold and full of life
Just out of reach of the tree branches the white orb flies,
an almost orb at same time, whole yet not completely
revealed in this light, cold and full of life
I filled the 3 bird feeders, emptying 40 lbs of mixed seeds
to nourish those winged ones in what's left
of the light of this day, cold and full of life
SHARE, LEVERAGE, & EXPAND reveal themselves
as my three guiding words for this new year providing nourishment
for this day which otherwise is cold and full of life
Wednesday, December 14, 2022
sherku: 2 sides
Wednesday, December 07, 2022
Inventory: updated Dec 7, 2022
Four be the things I am wiser to know:
Love, patience, process flow,
and the joy of snow
Four be the things I'd be better without:
Anger, impatience, jealousy,
and clothing inside out
Three be the things I shall never attain:
Perfection, completion,
and the last word on any train
Three be the things I shall have till I die:
Bruises, scars,
and hope for the sky
Wednesday, November 23, 2022
sherku: small things 2
sherku: small things 1
Monday, October 24, 2022
sherku: catching up
sherku: return
Saturday, October 15, 2022
sherku: chocolate pudding
Saturday, October 01, 2022
St Ray's 50th High School Reunion
Time lapse, 50 years in a couple of minutes
to answer the question: What does one say
to someone they haven’t seen in 50 years
I am sorry? Yes, and then …
People want to know, who we are, who we are
So we tell 'em, so we tell 'em
We are the Saints, the mighty might Saints
We weren’t always, folks understood that we aspired to be
And Peter Pan is still my hero, I never wanted to grow up
Yet words like retirement, grandfather, 50 year HS reunion
Are now part of my vocabulary, and it is hard getting used to them
What of the days at McCoy playing pick up baseball,
or Novelty Park basketball, or delivering the Times making some
money to pay for school, books, and the occasional
Ring Ding and Yahoo at Mike’s Corner market
High School commencement was the end
Of one path, other paths opened with college
And beyond; the world of work, family,
Moving about the country before coming home
What is home? Pawtucket is where my story
Started, St Joe’s & St Ray’s were key parts of it
Even returning for a spell as an assistant coach for
track and cross country before corporate moves took over
Now up the road a piece; Franklin is my home base
From which I also found that railroad lines
Used to come down to Valley Falls and into
Pawtucket back in the day when trains were king
Can you go home again? An age old question
But yes, if you want. Aside from visiting
The cemetery and walking among the neighborhood streets
You can’t ever get fully away, the ties are binding
So I’ll quote Rumi:
Out beyond wrongdoing
And rightdoing, there is a field
I’ll meet you there