Thursday, July 20, 2017

Pluviophile


image from picturescollections.com


Pluviophile

“The way I see it, if you want the rainbow,
you have to put up with the rain--Dolly Parton.

The heat has turned Navy gray,
clouds cover day.
I heard the rain,
coolness the gain.

Temps at ninety in the Northwest
are not the best
way toward comfort,
much sweat to court.

My eight tomato plants do smile,
sipping awhile--
me on the deck,

breeze on my neck.


Glenn Buttkus


Tuesday, July 18, 2017

The Sanctuary


image by glenn buttkus


The Sanctuary

“Each of us has an inner room, a sanctuary where
we can visit to be inspired.”--Glenn Buttkus

It was an old bachelor’s apartment
      with liver, onions & fish still prevalent odors
adhered to the paisley floral wallpaper,
      with cigarette burns & tattered rips
freckling the 50’s turquoise carpet,
      with what might have been blood stains
under the narrow single bed,
      with very tall ceilings that were pock-marked
      with greasy popcorn plaster bumps,
an asbestos-ridden affect from the past, rife in
every dirty cluster,
       with ornate steel steam radiators against
two of the walls, dark blanched spots behind them,
        with a small kitchen that had several cupboards 
too high to reach without standing on a chair,
        with a squat noisy refrigerator that had a deeply
dented door & bent rusty shelves,
        with a cracked porcelain sink that had dark
mysterious stains & no plug,
         with a large bathroom, resplendent
         with an ancient lion-legged bath tub, and a 
six foot tall narrow vertical window
         with smoked glass to provide privacy.

From the alley outside, one could see the cheery
wrought iron barred gate that covered that window,
as if there were valuables or treasure inside, and 
the red ladder for the fire escape, within easy reach
if egress was ever a necessity.

The price was right--this
apartment would suffice as

a writer’s sweet den.    


Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub  

Monday, July 17, 2017

Flicker Fun


image from youtube.com


Flicker Fun

All writing is about the same thing--dying; about
the brief flicker of time we have here.”
--Mordecai Richler.

Flickering
indicates motion
more than life.

Movies
flicker fast
fast enough
to appear
as clear images.

Insects
& bird’s wings
flicker
so rapidly
they hum.

I imagine that
at the point
of death,
reality flickers
ever so slowly
before
it finally

fades to black.


Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub Q44