Tuesday, December 6, 2016

alberta st octet

japanese maple nods in the planter box,
blood-red next to cedar lattice; rain beading

on a sign: garden seating— unoccupied;
blue bicycle staple lean & vacant near

the line of puddles where an amur maple’s bare
limbs shimmer, outstretched & oh so empty—blue

push pin stuck in a burl’s dense flesh: not one scrap
of poster left behind in this reflection

Jack Hayes
© 2016


Note: Only one octet today due to the sequencing of upcoming poems.

Monday, December 5, 2016

rainy monday quatrain

the pine’s elastic gestures in this wet breeze;
below, three white-framed windows, blinds opening—

beyond this picket fence’s circumspection:
landscape of rain, your eyes' difficult landscape

Jack Hayes
© 2016


Sunday, December 4, 2016

Le Fils des étoiles

Today we begin our series of December Sunday music, which will feature Satie’s piano works. The initial piece actually was written as incidental music for a play of the same name by Joséphin Péladan. The music, which apparently was scored for flutes & harps, was composed in 1891 & premiered in 1892. No manuscript of the original score exists however, so it’s impossible to say how the scoring was arranged.

In 1896, Satie published a piano reduction of the score, which is what we’re hearing in the video, as played by an accomplished amateur pianist, Dider da Silva [http://dansesdetravers.blogspot.fr/]

For more information on Le Fils des étoiles, please see the Wikipedia entry.

Image connects to its source on Wiki Commons:
Original edition of Satie's Preludes from
Le fils des étoiles (1896). This was Maurice Ravel's personal copy, which he later gave to Alexis Roland-Manuel
Public domain

Saturday, December 3, 2016

december 1st quatrain

december 1st  quatrain

japanese maple leaves, so many red stars,
spangle the corner in a streetlight's white gaze—

nothing else this afternoon, just clouds blown east:
accept the gift as given—it will vanish

Jack Hayes
© 2016

Japanese maple foliage
N Borthwick Ave, Portland, OR 11/26/16 

Friday, December 2, 2016

Two Octets (Albina Ave)

albina ave octet #4

rose hips cluster orange under the stop sign;
the ornamental cherry, green leaves curling,

watches over anemone’s pale blossom
here where the avenue slopes to a curve—down

the street lily magnolia catkins gesture
quiescent in a standing meditation

catching morning light’s fragments—silver & gold
foil pinwheel spinning beside deadheaded roses

◦    ◦    ◦

albina ave octet #5

garden shed clad in Oregon license plates;
behind the wire fence dovetailed boxes tumbling

through weeds & trailing vines; no bus scheduled
for a quarter hour; the pale sun sinking &

rising from cloud currents—apples suspended
over the fence; on high boughs, white flesh exposed

by jays; on low, red gravity gathered for
the drop: all raw autumn all this letting go

Jack Hayes
© 2016


Thursday, December 1, 2016

Two Octets (Vancouver Ave)

vancouver ave octet #1

breeze swirls off the river, its touch light & damp;
hornbeam leaves dazzle across the asphalt as

bicyclists glide south—orange sand bags weigh down
black plastic tarps in an excavated lot—

firethorn pomes flare up as the sun hits zenith;
over the stoplight this agitation of

crows; now pine boughs embrace golden leaf fall, now
traffic moves on with its lonesome one-way gasp

◦    ◦    ◦

vancouver ave octet #2

blue bus stop bench in leaf shadow’s quivering;
how frayed the hydrangea vines look scaling that

parking garage wall, for all their clenched new shoots—
maple seedkey spirals down, junco darts up,

hides in sweet gum’s canopy; rhododendrons
unfurl incrementally pink out of season—

the park’s giant go stones encircled; near them
the one woman may or may not be waiting

Jack Hayes
© 2016

11/14/16 & 11/15/16

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Two Octets (Grand Ave & Multnomah St)

grand ave octet

grimy blue shirt wrapped around a sweet gum’s trunk;
foliage curling in a tattered circle—

storm cloud escalates west above Koin Tower,
nimbus glare envelopes layers gray as fish—

lime green streetcar accelerates past this
leaf shower; no one notices one touching

down next to my sneaker, one caressing the
crook of my arm: you really should have seen it!

◦    ◦    ◦

multnomah st octet

tight crabapple clusters against a white sky;
omnipresent crow on a soaring light pole

as if you were watching; the line of hornbeams
bare upright limbs, each sprouting a fern from rough

bark—there’s no other response; pansies’ sad dark
faces droop as if in thought, reflect the self

in one sense; speckled roses shrink on tall stalks:
if you would stand in that dormer you’d see them

Jack Hayes
© 2016

11/9/16 & 11/12/16