by Gordon Prickett
One brat one bun with catsup and mustard
Chips and a Bud Lite
the fire gathers quickly from circles
of peeled birch bark lighted in the west wind
Back ashore from a Secchi Disk read of 9.5 feet
on a windy sunny day
puffy scattered clouds like sheep
wander east
Quickly I have a tasty meal
beside this circle of cement
perched above the lake bank
on a tree-shaded shore
Weekdays in August are quiet here
a young couple sails out from anchorage
in their yellow boat
Distant sounds of chain saw and dozer
will invite a look... after a while
there isn't any place on this earth
where I would rather be
Grandpa Ole said it a century ago
"I like myself here."
Gordon Prickett August 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
TOO MANY PEOPLE
by Gordon Prickett
Alone on this early street
A COUGH across the way says no.
Like Hong Kong in 1991, there are people moving
on this Oakland street at every hour
Running, walking, walking dogs, running leashed dogs
or no leash, cycling, motoring, on sidewalk, roadway, driveway
close together.
The houses fill up 50 by 50 foot lots
leaving cars at the curb.
Any garages are scarce space for storage
and spillover living.
Regulations tell you when to move your car,
scoop after your pets, cross the street with... 7, 6, 5, 4 seconds
to get out of the way.
From northwoods Minnesota I came for a few weeks.
Today I fly back and resume life as we know it.
We who portage, paddle, plow, fish, and hunt
grow food, build things, mine ore, cut timber, raise cattle
don't drink so much wine
or insist on so many kinds of coffee.
My country road has more deer than settlers.
No wonder this absence of quiet leads me to see
a future diminished by too many people.
Gordon Prickett January 2008
Noah's New York Bagels in Oakland, California
7:10 a.m., January 7
Alone on this early street
A COUGH across the way says no.
Like Hong Kong in 1991, there are people moving
on this Oakland street at every hour
Running, walking, walking dogs, running leashed dogs
or no leash, cycling, motoring, on sidewalk, roadway, driveway
close together.
The houses fill up 50 by 50 foot lots
leaving cars at the curb.
Any garages are scarce space for storage
and spillover living.
Regulations tell you when to move your car,
scoop after your pets, cross the street with... 7, 6, 5, 4 seconds
to get out of the way.
From northwoods Minnesota I came for a few weeks.
Today I fly back and resume life as we know it.
We who portage, paddle, plow, fish, and hunt
grow food, build things, mine ore, cut timber, raise cattle
don't drink so much wine
or insist on so many kinds of coffee.
My country road has more deer than settlers.
No wonder this absence of quiet leads me to see
a future diminished by too many people.
Gordon Prickett January 2008
Noah's New York Bagels in Oakland, California
7:10 a.m., January 7
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Daybreak
by Gordon Prickett
From water's edge I see a bass jump.
Somewhere along the bank a mallard calls.
Fog rises in the shallows.
Across the lake mist turns rose and blue.
Straight out from shore a loon surfaces,
calls like a bugler and dives.
Again on the surface he laughs over and over.
Fish splash near shore as the sun barely rises
above trees to color the far shore green.
Gordon Prickett August 1996
From water's edge I see a bass jump.
Somewhere along the bank a mallard calls.
Fog rises in the shallows.
Across the lake mist turns rose and blue.
Straight out from shore a loon surfaces,
calls like a bugler and dives.
Again on the surface he laughs over and over.
Fish splash near shore as the sun barely rises
above trees to color the far shore green.
Gordon Prickett August 1996
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Superior Haiku by Gordon Prickett
In Mid April I found myself in Duluth at the Lift Bridge Canal with a break between the Annual Mining Symposium and its closing banquet at the posh Kitchigami Club on Superior Street. The sky was clear. The lake the deepest blue. Even with water temperature at freezing, the lake walk was enjoyable. No camera, but I found a pencil.
SUPERIOR HAIKU
lift bridge canal ice
floating melting in the sun
sparkling white mid April
Duluth clear blue sky
natives run walk sit and smile
gulls announce their day
Now to return to Aitkin County, where lake ice is rapidly melting, and nearby loons are watching for their waterways.
SUPERIOR HAIKU
lift bridge canal ice
floating melting in the sun
sparkling white mid April
Duluth clear blue sky
natives run walk sit and smile
gulls announce their day
Now to return to Aitkin County, where lake ice is rapidly melting, and nearby loons are watching for their waterways.
Monday, March 23, 2009
MORE RAIN
Gordon Prickett July 1993
At least in Nordland Township this morning - where we have a partial washout on the gravel road to our place. As I drove around it and viewed some of the culverts that are full and flowing, I recalled another time and place when the waters kept rising.
It was the summer of 1993 in St. Louis. The confluence of the Illinois, the Missouri, and the Mississippi Rivers. My employer was the electric utility, and we had serious difficulty generating and transmitting electric power in that 500-year flood.
MORE RAIN
Rain pelts a sodden earth.
Creeks rise and rush to swollen streams.
Streams spill over banks, rivers rise relentlessly.
Thunder booms while lightning’s eerie glow flashes.
Week after week we bear witness,
joined by president, governor, and mayors.
Those who lived at the edge of water
have fled its awful force.
Builders who made deals in river frontage
leave buyers washed out.
We see earth’s continuing creation
this soggy summer of 1993.
Across the Midwest seams of rock
once were formed with transported soil and sand.
Rain and flood reshaped dry land.
Today battered people pray - to stop the rain
and for strength through the storm.
Gordon Prickett July 1993
At least in Nordland Township this morning - where we have a partial washout on the gravel road to our place. As I drove around it and viewed some of the culverts that are full and flowing, I recalled another time and place when the waters kept rising.
It was the summer of 1993 in St. Louis. The confluence of the Illinois, the Missouri, and the Mississippi Rivers. My employer was the electric utility, and we had serious difficulty generating and transmitting electric power in that 500-year flood.
MORE RAIN
Rain pelts a sodden earth.
Creeks rise and rush to swollen streams.
Streams spill over banks, rivers rise relentlessly.
Thunder booms while lightning’s eerie glow flashes.
Week after week we bear witness,
joined by president, governor, and mayors.
Those who lived at the edge of water
have fled its awful force.
Builders who made deals in river frontage
leave buyers washed out.
We see earth’s continuing creation
this soggy summer of 1993.
Across the Midwest seams of rock
once were formed with transported soil and sand.
Rain and flood reshaped dry land.
Today battered people pray - to stop the rain
and for strength through the storm.
Gordon Prickett July 1993
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Market Crash 2008 by Gordon Prickett
MARKET CRASH 2008
"Credit default swap" - what's in a name?
Is it a loan or insurance, for stocks or bonds?
Does it signal risk or greed?
Will it be a slam dunk, a piece-of-cake?
The more words needed to explain it,
the murkier, the shakier, the weirder it is.
We are told the creators of credit default swaps put together
"securitized" sub-prime mortgage loans and insurance.
Their bosses understood little about this product,
but signed off anyway and cashed in.
Now, fellow victims, we all know the swindle that was.
We have our own names for this collapse -
bleeping deleted expletives.
"Credit default swap" - what's in a name?
Is it a loan or insurance, for stocks or bonds?
Does it signal risk or greed?
Will it be a slam dunk, a piece-of-cake?
The more words needed to explain it,
the murkier, the shakier, the weirder it is.
We are told the creators of credit default swaps put together
"securitized" sub-prime mortgage loans and insurance.
Their bosses understood little about this product,
but signed off anyway and cashed in.
Now, fellow victims, we all know the swindle that was.
We have our own names for this collapse -
bleeping deleted expletives.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
A Splash
by Gordon Prickett
(gordmett@emily.net) of Heartland Poets
Loud splash at water’s edge
where a V appears
A swimming beaver leaves our shore
cutting season for beaver families
With trees falling around the lake
we bring in a trapper
who takes five of these busy beavers
and collects their pelts.
It’s for the good of the lakeshore
that we limit the beaver
There is a season on beaver and bear
hunters harvest the browsing deer
But when the chainsaws and dozers,
cement trucks and nailing guns arrive
we have no season on people up here.
a splash and a roar and the shore is changed.
November 2005
(gordmett@emily.net) of Heartland Poets
Loud splash at water’s edge
where a V appears
A swimming beaver leaves our shore
cutting season for beaver families
With trees falling around the lake
we bring in a trapper
who takes five of these busy beavers
and collects their pelts.
It’s for the good of the lakeshore
that we limit the beaver
There is a season on beaver and bear
hunters harvest the browsing deer
But when the chainsaws and dozers,
cement trucks and nailing guns arrive
we have no season on people up here.
a splash and a roar and the shore is changed.
November 2005
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