december
1.
humanity’s trees
will see what happens
in the middle of nowherethanks for the update and for
the only thing that
the only thing is[all but the first line written with keyboard suggestions]
2.
southeastward yellow
sunrise unfurls its
brief banner of buoyant bluesky a longing lavender
ladder to climb out
of darkening thoughts3.
clouds above below
the morning fog that
rubs its back along the hillssunrise a momentary
dream field of faintly
glowing marigolds4.
again great river
bring down new colors
ravaged tinged periwinkleblanched silverfringed brakelight orange
long-distance lovelight
mirrored memories5.
morning’s rhythmic
glacial paradox
speed of light and enormousinfinitesimal near-
ness near pausing
distantly changing6.
drab slab of monday
sky like a weak nudge
when a hammer’s what’s neededto crush the brain’s hard dark beans
and steep them in light
to negate the night7.
the bridge to winter
carries my gray dreams
over the great gray riverreflecting the absence of
the consolation
of sunrise or sleep8.
immaculate sun
rising in the wind
bursting from under blanketsof clouds a woman waking
on her fortieth
birthday breathing light9.
the disappointment
of seeking sunrise
in the sadness of a towna pretty how town but sad
in its brushfire heart
and cloud drift dream light*
cauldron of morning
burning through bare limbs
over unaware rooftopsdistant furnace fire glowing
deep in the heart of
impending winter10.
the gods’ persimmons
glowing in the east
queen of heaven pray for usand clouds like fermenting plums
storing drunken sleep
for the winter blues11.
a river’s disguise
of cloud-cloaked sunrise
at the railroad bridge at dawna light afoot that muggles
don’t notice climbs a
dark enormity12.
humble lovely bridge
unassuming violet
clouds with creamy brightcurlicues of light
dispelling autumnal night
and darkness’s arc13.
cable bridge sunrise
black dog rabbitbrush
river flowing in the nowcarrying gifts to the sun
frankincense skyline
clouds of mystic myrrh14.
the sun is rising
behind a curtain
of dark and light shades of bluebehind the blue bridge that spans
the big blue river
glistening with birds15.
beguiled by colour
three time zones away
when i woke far too earlyand my co-conspirator
televideoed
what i then screenshot16.
thin band of faintly
gleaming alice blue
sandwiched by bland grey aboveand the numb brown of autumn’s
somber surrender
to winter below17.
words are too worn out
or not worn enough
insufficient to the taskthey can only fall prostrate
to the snowy ground
and stammer eastward18.
approaching solstice
no sun evident
just snow and fog and the soundof the day reluctantly
getting underway
and blessëd coffee19.
this is what passes
for sunrise winter
standing at the door smilinggrimly icy sickle teeth
somber cloudy shrouds
and christmas cookies20.
flying towards sunrise
breathing burning coals
glowing from last night’s campfireclouds are smoldering ashes
powdery and dark
the airplane my tent21.
reconciled to snow
back yard relaxes
into the mind of winterpandemic blessings
glad isolation
gold nugget sunrise22.
jesus in the snow
nature’s new year’s day
you want to travel with himand you want to travel blind
across the water
to that paradise23.
clouds stained with the night
drift casually
over sweet potato skiesthe river used to freezing
this time of year gives
itself to sunrise24.
tanager-like sun
beginning its slow
migration from solstice daytowards the spring equinox
furtively orange
bringing glad tidings25.
sun costuming clouds
on christmas morning
out the window all we seeis snow falling on the warm
antiquity of
self and flakes of love26.
behold the sunrise
masked to protect us
from deadly december raysthe virus of happiness
that would infect us
if we dare let it27.
no one waiting here
hear the beating heart
now here now nowhere no onethe heart of winter waiting
no one hearing now
here one sunrise pulse28.
winter means something
snow some nothing thing
hiding something underneathsunrise hidden like a bulb
a magic nothing
a secret something29.
there is no sunrise
no rise no risen
sun hidden within itselfkeeping its own secret safe
for the hills and trees
frozen in their dreams30.
the bleak midwinter
the bleak midwinter
the bleak midwinter the bleakmidwinter is in my soul
sunrise on my mind
the bleak midwinter31.
we wake up and drive
to the horizon
to inspect the frozen fogconcealing the last sunrise
of this year of grace
the day of your birth
Archives for 2021
sunrise a momentary dream field
november blue november
a jonathan potter project
1.
mellow apricot
sky spreads out above
the hills of stevens county
a watercolor world wakes
all hallows’ morning
layer by layer
2.
my mother saw the sun
rise on her birthday morning
rise behind the gray november
veil that spanned the eastern sky
my mother stood on
the mountain and saw
3.
from gray to gray-blue
cornflower-cyan
sapphire cobalt slate stone spruce
november blue november
blues blending into
the blues the blue blues
4.
exact sunrise time
postulated in
drizzling misty mystery
fog’s gloom-gray estimation
of time’s abacus
raindrops on branches
5.
from eastern time zone
comes love’s explosion
of blood orange rose gold light
awakening the darkness
of pacific sleep
with love’s time travel
6.
between a weeping
willow and tall pine
orange sky-soup like titan’s
organonitrogen haze
sci-fi saturday
waking from strange dreams
7.
yellow on turquoise
dark horizon line
roiling clouds gentle hills trees
then becoming enormous
otherworldly peach
and plum pudding sky
8.
amid the azure
and alice blue clouds
filling the sky this morning
a golden ghost of fried egg
emerges sunny
side up and lovely
9.
redeye flight waking
orange horizon
could be another planet
the alien cityscape
river of methane
or is this philly
10.
saint lawrence river
catches the image
of this candle flame sunrise
morning drifting to the south
the sky clinging to
decreasing daylight
11.
marmalade guitar
amber-blue cloud strings
stretching to infinity
opening into music
honey-gold and bright
upon the river
12.
start at the bottom
the river’s secrets
dark blue darker skyline tells
saint joachim’s bronze bells to ring
to bid the silent
blue-gold day start here
13.
screen of trees and poles
silhouetted there
on lakeshore road a jogger
back turned on radiant beauty
pink-orange burning
dangling carrot sky
14.
pale bright scarlet veins
of pomegranate
stains on a dark blue napkin
in a billowing moment
a gold incursion
a strict horizon
15.
desultory gray
rising of the day
cormorant besprent swims by
under the gray layered sky
dives and disappears
the rain’s whispered cheers
16.
give us this day our
daily slur of sun
rising like a lonely loaf
we graze on with eyes and skin
touching each other
in the lonely light
17.
red-orange luminance
white cloudwisps wafting
above and below dark hills
calm atomic yellowing
deep breath expanding
effortless slate-blue
can sunrise be willed
no thy will does not
govern the planet’s turning
could it be the force of love
taking a deep breath
without intention
18.
saint john’s cathedral
the sun’s sentinel
pokes its pointy spying spires
up at the naked blue clouds
the gold fringed hem of
god’s skirt proclaims love
19.
no sign of sunrise
the rain it raineth
every day to quote the bard
aloof the sky refuses
these bare ruined choirs
my mind’s leafless limbs
20.
i didn’t see the sun today
but i saw a star
tonight cold and bright
i woke up but stayed
in bed at sunrise
to venture out at moonrise
21.
the sunrise has slouched
further south rough beast
but the fog comforts the hills
prodigal the ochre sun
behind the mountains
marigold the clouds
22.
standing in the street
looking southeastward
sunrise time but clouds are thick
but falcon and falconer
tell me it’s right there
slouching toward solstice
23.
river railroad bridge
rolling sunrise clouds
this train ain’t bound for glory
but still the smothered sunrise
hints at beautiful
blue dreams and journeys
24.
train crossing river
sun rising without
intending to turns the sky
and its reflection
into something never
seen until this moment
25.
thanksgiving morning
on the great river
railroad bridge like a zipper
binding the searing beauty
of the rose-gold sky
to watery earth
26.
hephaestus rises
forging molten gold
on the eastern horizon
above my alma mater
my great grandfather
smiling down on me
27.
mirror of river
grasps at burnished bronze
angelic yellow garment
pink threads of fire cobalt blue
wielding a flaming
sword to kindle day
28.
guests of the sunrise
trespassing to see
the unnameable colours
gaudily manifesting
neon banana
alien lava
29.
eighteen sunrises
viewed from steptoe butte
each year in my mind
since the day that you were born
and the world became
stunningly lovely
30.
end of november
cold aquamarine
watery cobalt serene
early morning clouds swimming
above seabottom
hills sunken city
A Month of Sunrises
a jonathan potter project
1.
radio towers rising
in distant foreground
orange sky bruised clouds
aftermath of last night’s storm
pine limbs dangle down
into soft darkness
2.
this phenomenon
of the sun rising
tears open the eastern sky
even if obscured
by the horizon of sleep
or the day’s darkness
3.
sunrise on game day
the sun a fiery ball
blazing from the east
god throwing a curve
across reality’s plate
and the day’s at bat
4.
canal bordering
my mother’s backyard
snakes towards the rising sun
thumb-smear of orange horizon
inkblot trees ghost clouds
gravel road ready
5.
sky salmon spawning
vermilion moments
ponderous deep lavenders
reality bearing down
imagination
lifting up the sky
6.
morning pink and pale
pauses to wake up
contemplating the meaning
of the dream before waking
driving the wrong way
down a one-way street
7.
garbage day dawning
the sun hidden like the week’s
discarded debris
behind the residential
slumbering malaise
faintly peach to blue
8.
orange reptilian eye
burning through the pines
this early autumn
sunrise from the highest point
i could find at hand
crawling out of sleep
9.
memory of trees
darkening up the mountains
hills like ocean waves
the city below
people opening their eyes
an orange turning
10.
overcast autumn
cloudshapes form an eye
or mouth’s ambiguous lips
masking the sunrise drama
as reality
comes up behind me
11.
airport sunrise through
the glossy glass of
half past seven’s fluorescent
rectangles’ tangle with the
underlying sky
i’m about to fly
12.
jet lag bronze meringue
morning’s calm glowing
debussy blue-film distance
layer on layer lighting
the thought of dreaming
of coffee and cream
13.
beaconsfield backyard
tree creatures greeting
the golden island rising
from earth’s insistent turning
from last night’s gloaming
this rose-mauve morning
14.
the veil of the sky
horizons river
mutes the unbrazen sunrise
unheralded by trumpets
ducks swim languidly
near the lapping shore
15.
astronomy tells
me the sun rose this morning
while i was sleeping
i take the sunrise on faith
the grey morning dull
the sky unscripted
16.
hunting the sunrise
over saint joachim
the sky as god’s cast-off thought
on the day of rest
the sky as a placebo
for work’s medicine
17.
the clouds are keepers
of the buoyant secrets
of the morning’s silent bells
mount royal lookout rises
above the city
breathes crimson questions
18.
what is the color
of morning itself
green dark-green light-green yellow
luminescent bright-fringed shades
of lavandula
pink-white hints of red
19.
rising with the horizon
flying away from
the morning being
borne on nothing but
air which is a kind
of nothing that is something
20.
planets turn suns rise
clouds hills trees mountains
converse in color-tinged tongues
somber ocean-gorgeous
tangerine language
tastes reality
21.
cathedral tower
where humans climb stone
gold-railed steps to the golden
sky enjambed with particles
and waves of searing
syllables of light
22.
god spoke from the clouds
the universe spoke
you yourself spoke marigold
luminous amber mumbles
breathing enormous
breaths of thought and love
23.
jackolantern cloud
october’s charm turns
dismal dismally charming
candle sun struggling wick
blue on blue on blue
trees suggest christmas
24.
before the sunrise
i open one eye
glance at the sliver of faint light
at the edge of the
closed window curtain
resume sleep dream the same scene
25.
cobalt autumnblue
umbilical cloud
cerulean slow fury
lamppost lastleaf powerline
smokestack freewayscape
darkhope beginning
26.
morning tells orange
secrets to blue sky
with goldfringed inuendo
foretells the day’s falling leaves
prospect of early
sunset and slumber
27.
wallowa mountains
look up look up a message
drifts in drifting wisps
of morning’s inscape
of migrant cloudshapes’ shifting
dim dazzling light
28.
like dante i put
one foot over the
other for some hard climbing
up out of confusion to
the moraine ridgetop
to see the sun rise
29.
morning gathers grey
debts and spreadsheets them
above money-colored trees
grey makes rain earn a living
sky a blank check no
daylight in savings
30.
what does the sunrise
mean just the turning
of blind mechanical forces
resulting in a beautiful
orange accident
blessing our nothing
31.
silhouette of trees
against a pale cantaloupe
sky slowly turning
bright with distant light
as the sun rises below
beyond direct sight
Fifty-Two
For Elizabeth, on her birthday
God plays your life like cards upon the green;
His mother cuts the jokers from the pack —
And who could follow suit with such a queen?
Worldly diamond kings court an exit scene
When a better bid shows how, Ace to Jack,
God plays your life. Like cards upon the green
He flips your years, push by stay, to convene
Today’s array of sequenced red and black —
And who could follow suit? With such a queen
As Mary banked within your heart, no mean
Or clever gambler stakes in blood the stack
God plays. Your life, like cards upon the green,
Is counted, ranked, a paper mise-en-scène
Of diamonds (flick!), clubs (click!), hearts and spades (smack!).
And who could follow suit with such? A queen
Of openings, you fold your hands. Your chips — all in —
Declare the trump that heads the devil’s trick:
You play your life like cards upon the green —
Oh, who could follow suit with such a queen?
The Greatest Gig in the World
Being alive … you get to eat at Denny’s, wear a hat, whatever you want to do …
September 11, 2001
Manhattan
On a bad day you can’t see anything
Beyond the Hudson and Jersey side of things:
The grey arroyos of steel, concrete, and glass
Seem brittle as paper houses in Japan.
On a good day you can see the outline
Of rebar emerging, rib-like, in sunlight,
A tensile flex of tendons steeled against
The streets below. These, dissected neat and square,
(The Big Apple as a Euclidean sheet cake)
Feed into the grid’s one blemish, a green
Mistake, an ink blotch of oaks and paths
That spill peace into hidden picnic spots
In Central Park — not nearly far enough
From the baffled wash of the Atlantic
Caressing this fragile fortress island,
Its towered tips serving sentry duty
Over the sleepy waves sloshing at piers
And abandoned pilings where garbage and foam
Congregate like idle prayers to Neptune.
Ignoring news of the day, tidal currents
Comb through a stranded forest of pilings —
A salt bath that soothes an old lady’s sore legs
As she does commerce with the eternal sea.
Today, the skyline was especially free
And majestic (perhaps some noticed this).
Today, the air had a clean crisp in-betweenness
(Perhaps no one would forget at least just this),
A September day, like the bubble
In a level, waiting to nudge either way,
To become an incomparable day — for good
Or bad.
One might oversleep only to wake,
Like an angel an hour late for Creation,
To the explosion of mid-morning traffic.
Or one might crawl to a stop, and sniff the air
On the drive to work, hesitate a minute,
And cock one’s head, unaware, as sirens
Encompass the passage of roaring shadows,
Like knowing beasts with instinct’s machinery…
Today, the gods of war sang with jet-black hair;
One flew east, one flew west, one fell down and
One slammed into our national interests,
Extracting suum cuique’s random plan
From a populous which, until now,
(Friends and enemies both say) escaped history,
Unable to nail itself to a moment.
So, today was a good day, and yet,
The Manhattan rising in everyone’s mind
Is all that remains.
Pelée, Krakatoa,
Vesuvius, all momentous.
Carthage,
Nineveh, Jerusalem, all righteous.
And now,
Lower Manhattan, lower and lower still,
Like ash that adds itself to endless ash —
Zero’s strict calculus of dust to dust —
Forever falling, stretching, touching ground.
Back to the blog
This one is a caution, yes it is. What would inspire someone to reach such a conclusion? I mean, besides the obvious, which is that Ye Olde Powers that Be wanted to draw my attention back to this here website, and so they hit me where I’d feel it: my childhood, Old Scratch, excellent art, etc.
Beyond that, I’m guessing Lord Catz just couldn’t bring himself to believe that Irish Catholics in some podunk town in Upstate New York would have the aesthetic wherewithal to order up a raft of top-quality stained glass windows from Austria…
Anyway, let’s see if anyone’s still reading this thing. I can’t think of a single time when the attempt to revive a thing after its initial moment has passed has proved successful or even unembarrassing, but I’m kind of past such concerns. Maybe Korrektiv can enter into its ex-suicide phase…
Lickona Young & Old
Read: nobody reads any more, but here’s a once-famous guy whose life — hard-drinking, hard-loving, full of shooting and explosions, capped off with pills, depression, electroshock therapy, and suicide — makes for good TV.
Omicron for Christmas
We’re dreaming tonight of a place we love
Even more than we usually do
And although we know it’s a long road back
We promise you
We’ll be home for Christmas
If we pass the test
Travel bans and Omicron
Have made us feel less blest
Christmas eve will find us
Feeling Covid-19
We’ll be home for Christmas
After we quarantine
Omicron for Christmas
You can count on us
Please get your booster and wear your mask
And do not ride the bus
Christmas eve will find us
In our quarantine
We’ll be home for Christmas
When the CDC declares we’re clean