jim

2025-05-18
That is a very cool bike/scooter!

2025-05-10
With the first two lines I nodded to the real and possible.

The third line was a happy jolt, hula hoops, what?! Suddenly I was back on the neighborhood street after supper, 1950's, boys playing catch or climbing trees, the girls jump-roping, hop-scotching and roller skating, but everyone hula hooped!

It was the era of stereotyping, but the girls, some, played catch, and the boys, some, hop-scotched, roller skated and jumped roped. I certainly did.

Thanks for this brief but highly evocative poem.

2025-05-07
Thank you for being a keeping of the flame—the sonnet. You won't see it in "Poetry" (the monthly) these days.

I love the atmosphere you create, I have nothing to compare, so appreciate this glimpse into a different world, this past world.

2025-04-05
I concur, "poignant" is the right word. The mother-son relationship being unresolved is hard. The reaching hand implies resolution may be near.

A wonderful, touching poem.

2025-03-31
I rode my bike to school every day until high school. I miss it, the ease and familiarity of it, riding no-handed, free & easy.

Casual comments that hurt should be ignored, but "should" never works.

jim

2025-03-17
I agree with shells (I always have). This is magical, so light, so . . . there.

2024-10-12
There is something magical about the way you meld past and future—the ripples touching both.

2024-08-13
I appreciate, and understand it, so much, down to my core. Thank you sharing with us these intimate feelings.

2024-07-19
so many great and true phrases and thoughts here, wisdom

dig the real

2024-07-16
to love and be loved
to touch and be touched

it's the best humans can offer one another ~~~

2024-07-11
Age brings the inevitability of reviving old memories rather than create new ones. Your poem rings true.

2024-07-07
Thank you for your persistence! All you do is very, very much appreciated, exasperating as it is.

Thank you!

2024-07-01
It is an unusually cool morning here as July begins the second half of the year.

2024-06-16
I call this, "happy to be a father day."

2024-06-08
Fatalistically optimistic, or optimistically fatalistic?!

2024-06-08
Hi Marie, "Nebbish" is as old as the hills, maybe older. It's from the Yiddish. I grew up with that word, meaning someone or something a little sad, "doing poorly."

As for the other, no idea!

Best,
Jim

2024-03-15
I don't think it is an either/or question, nor do I think it's a choice. We are connected, the mere fact of this poem by electrons instead of pen and paper is a link.

Seeking unconditional love, drifting through consciousness—absolutely!

2024-03-15
Don't kid yourself. The power of words is solely dependent on who is saying the words.

Martin Luther King's, "I have a dream" has turned to dust. Meanwhile, "Seig Heil!" is roaring loud and clear, alive and well, throughout the world.

The poet is, at best, a voice in the wind.

2024-03-15
I was completely drawn into this, dynamite writing, and so much wisdom and pathos.

"i see so much, so much, so much"

That line is reverberating in my thoughts.

Just wonderful,
jim

2024-03-03
Today must be a day of liberation and revelation, of discovery and letting go, for both you and R.W.S.

Maybe it's the spring, or almost spring, weather. Or, being where you were when you wrote this.

2024-03-03
This makes me smile, though I am still waiting for my moment of self-love, or even appreciation. I say, good for you!

2024-03-03
"Awareness" is a very mixed blessing.

When my poet friend wants a shorthand version of a compliment, she says, "ace." This is ace, R.W.S.

2024-02-23
A life of senses, sensations, awareness. A sensuous life.

2024-02-22
"High Expectations" seems less severe than "Demands," your earlier title I believe.

Either way, this is such a clear list of wants, ending with what is most important—and done with crystal clear writing. No ambiguity!

2024-01-21
This is delightful, and I can feel "crundle" working its way into my vocabulary, just waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

2024-01-20
The fourth line brought vivid images to mind, an entire scenario unfolded.

2024-01-16
Young love sucks? Would have rather gone without?

A wonderful tribute to pain.

2024-01-16
The stanza and rhyme form is such that I was surprised that it followed a poet BORN in 1923. That such a poet could live contemporaneously with "Leave it to Beaver," is high contrast.

You have done a wonderful job of writing within the confines of the form. Why am I not surprised!?

2024-01-14
This triggers memories, relationships, threads, there's no end to it.

Some good memories came to mind, forgotten. The bad ones are easy to remember. The good ones get lost, sometimes.

Thank you.

2024-01-14
"i am purely desire"

"i the fool,
and i wear it well"

What a great lines, and your metaphor of joker and queen makes this a unique poem of love.

It's tough being human, all these feelings . . .

2024-01-12
A tour de force,

and to all a "goodnight!"

2024-01-10
I reach back, can see, no feel, my mother sitting on the edge of the bed, saying a prayer with me, but what prayer?

Thank you for this. I long for lost memories.

2024-01-10
An interesting experiment ~~~

2024-01-10
Such a lovely tribute to life, beautiful.

2024-01-10
Crystalline.

2024-01-09
There are wonderful phrases and lines here, this is vivid:

"Let me pocket the moon,
lost dime shining in a gutterpuddle."

I've never been to the Boston area, but after years of reading your poems the images you've created have created an imaginary Boston area for me, complete with characters and settings and details.

2024-01-09
So sweet and so innocent and so charming, I am taken back by this, taken back to memories somewhat forgotten with time, now awakened.

This poem is a time-machine. Can there be such innocence today, I wonder.

2024-01-09
I'm so sorry. I will always remember the image of Abbey perched atop your head.

Sweet sorrow, my thoughts are with you,
jim

2024-01-08
Thank you for sharing peaceful thoughts, Nils.

2024-01-08
This brings to mind Dobos Tort, many layers of richness and surprise.

2023-12-26
Maybe part of writing is losing something precious and irretrievable.

"The art of losing isn't hard to master."
(Elizabeth Bishop)

2023-12-21
Merry Christmas, Alan, and I hope, we all hope, for a healthy new year for you and Carol ~~~

jim

2023-12-21
Merry Christmas, Ann, and best wishes for the new year. Peace? One can hope.

2023-12-13
It is a glorious night, and if the sky is clear tomorrow night you may see the Geminids meteor shower outside your window.

2023-12-11
Thank you "Volunteer," this is ace. Much appreciated.

2023-12-11
Bravo for your ultimately sunny outlook.

I felt every twinge, gip, and *sing* as I sit here in the pre-dawn trying to get my body to behave, and the ringing to be a little more harmonious.

Good morning, another day, another opportunity (for what?),
jim

2023-12-08
This is beautiful.

I wish for you a peaceful transition as you begin your new adventure.

Godspeed, my friend ~~~

2023-11-25
My first assignment in my first poetry class was to write a poem in imitation of Pier Plowman, so what you've done makes sense, and a lot of fun.

Lynn's rarely uses similes, her entry would look more like this:

i have been looking into myself
recently
to find answers

i am curious
clueless
pointless is my pastime.

~

bravo, Sameen.

2023-10-26
I agree with Marie, it only gets better, the passion, willingness, and generosity deeper.

Happy birthday to Carol and best wishes. I will be hitting the same milestone in two weeks.

jim

2023-09-18
I love this glimpse of an English (?) childhood. Naturally, it brought images and memories of my American childhood, very different images and memories to be sure, but precious nonetheless.

Thank you!

jim

P.S. It's so bloody refreshing to read rhymed stanzas.