AMAZED TO STILL BE GOING STRONG
When the Coffee House invited eco-poet Jeff Poniewaz to perform there in April 1988, Jeff expanded the invitation. He brought along approximately nine more environmental activist poets, and called our group The Earth Poets.
TIME IS WHAT WE'VE GOT, AND IT'S GOING FAST
Oops, today is Thursday, time's running ahead of me,
And I can't seem to pull up even,
My toes walk into a room
While my hair's already leavin'
THE BUT OF A BAD JOKE
For a week I have to admit
Each morning I awaken, blink, sit
and sing, “Welcome sweet springtime we greet thee in song”
BUT wait, no, we haven’t had winter yet, I guess I’m wrong
BUT, BUT, it’s February
Already?
What about December? Collards still edible,
Broccoli and lettuce, felt incredible
January? oh gawd, January thaw
Maybe nature changed her law
Spring does start, in March, as I remember
Should never never begin in November
BUT BUT BUT I know
we’re gonna have ice, gonna have snow
temp surely will drop to sub-zero
down down down to thirty below
OK, I heard, winter starts tomorrow
will last two days, then spring for a day, winter for three,
then spring back, to tease me
All this is just
Gaia telling us
Global warming does exist, does exist
Earth’s not simply sunkissed
We’re gonna be sunburned
Put in the oven, cooked to a turn
Extreme is the beam that crisps our skin
Extreme is the beam that’s doing us in
Extreme ice, shakes, quakes, flood
Tsunamis, hurricanes, sliding mud
Our climate’s under a magnifier
Sometimes wetter, sometimes dryer
Records set for droughts, forest fires,
So why are there more and more climate deniers?
Gaia’s fracking angry, frack frack frack
It’s we who should shake as Gaia pays us back
Frack frack frack pays us back BUT why?
It’s because we gobble too much of the pie,
It’s because we gobble too much of the pie,
I WOOD IF I COULD
The weeping willow dances in the breeze, and so do I.
But the willow has a different choreographer, though sometimes I give it a try, try to choreograph the trees with my brush or pen,
and they dance according to my whim.
And sometimes the trees choreograph me,
not from just their outside appearance, from their in.
For when I paint on wood, I let the grain below
my brush tell it where to go.
SO WHAT DID I LEARN?
Every day’s an adventure, and every adventure is a learning experience. Maybe. Last Thursday I planned to get up at 6 AM, walk a mile with Adolph to the number ten bus for a one-hour ride to Froedert, take a one-hour bus ride back to Shorewood after his appointment, then the same one-mile walk back home.
