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Mary-Eliz Mar 2018
Hide and Seek
Charles Simic, 1938
Haven’t found anyone
From the old gang.
They must be still in hiding,
Holding their breaths
And trying not to laugh.

Our street is down on its luck
With windows broken
Where on summer nights
One heard couples arguing,
Or saw them dancing to the radio.

The redhead we were
All in love with,
Who sat on the fire escape,
Smoking late into the night,
Must be in hiding too.

The skinny boy
On crutches
Who always carried a book,
May not have
Gotten very far.

Darkness comes early
This time of year
Making it hard
To recognize familiar faces
In those of strangers.
One of my favorite poems is by Charles Simic ("The Stone") so when this came up as poem-of-the-day I had to check it out - I sometimes skip over them. I liked it, especially the first stanza. Hide and Seek was a big part of my childhood. We lived out in the country so we seven siblings mostly played together - simple games like hide-and-seek, kick the can, etc. I wasn't nearly as taken with it as "The Stone". What I do really like is what he said about it. It makes me feel better about the fact that often I am the same way about "being in the dark" as to when and how a poem began. I rarely put a date when I write and often find the bare bones of poems I had begun but forgotten. But I don't mind joining Simic in his somewhat mysterious place :-)

About This Poem

“My poems are a mix of autobiography and pure invention and often take years of tinkering before they are ready, so I rarely remember when and how they began and do not keep old drafts to help me do so. I like being in the dark as to where I’m going and where I’ll end up. And I hope my readers feel the same.”
—Charles Simic
N R Whyte Apr 2012
Before the fall rains come,
Let’s have one more picnic,
Now that the leaves are turning color
And the grass is still green in places.
   – by Charles Simic

A hot day brings the summer alcohol
Out of hiding.
Each ice cube vanishes into my glass,
Like children running from the year’s last
Mingling with the ***.
I relish laying
My hand on your naked chest
In the August sun,
Before the fall rains come.

Layered with a glaze of sweat
Neither yours nor mine but both,
My eyelids slide like honey
Over my quiet eyes,
Relaxing my thighs,
Daydreaming of earlier, when
You said to me
In the same tone as one with
Only a couple pages left in his comic,
“Let’s have one more picnic.”

Tomorrow, I’ll pack a basket
With some entertaining food:
Whipped cream, chocolate strawberries.
Under your tongue they’ll disappear
From here, here, and here.
(It’s duller
Without them.)
I’ll be excited looking around at
The land in a riot of multicolour,
Now that the leaves are turning colour.

But I’ll realize it isn’t you
Just that you were there, and I was there.
And we’ll realize we’re in love, however,
You or I could be whoever.
Gazing at each other, still with good graces
And moderate tolerance we’ll think,
“The sky is partially blue,
There are half-smiles on our faces,
And the grass is still green in places.”
Mary-Eliz Mar 2017

Go inside a stone
That would be my way.
Let somebody else become a dove
Or gnash with a tiger's tooth.
I am happy to be a stone.

From the outside the stone is a riddle:
No one knows how to answer it.
Yet within, it must be cool and quiet
Even though a cow steps on it full weight,
Even though a child throws it in a river;
The stone sinks, slow, unperturbed
To the river bottom
Where the fishes come to knock on it
And listen.

I have seen sparks fly out
When two stones are rubbed,
So perhaps it is not dark inside after all;
Perhaps there is a moon shining
From somewhere, as though behind a hill—
Just enough light to make out
The strange writings, the star-charts
On the inner walls.
One of my favorites!
Andreas Simic  Sep 2017
Andreas Simic Sep 2017

What is maturity?

Is it knowing that tomorrow will be a better day?
Is it having made all the mistakes until there are no more to be made,
Is it sitting in front of a computer playing games with your inner child and it being okay?
Is it a sense of knowing that the world is unfolding as it is meant to be.

Maturity is defined as development,
Is this the development of the human body?
Is this the development of intellectual matter or
Is this the development of human potential?
Is this the development of a spiritual knowing or connection?

How is maturity obtained?
Do we grow up to be mature?
Are we taught and learn to become mature,
Do we obtain maturity through experience?
Or does age provide an automatic pass to maturity.

Is maturity that stage where all is lost?
Or is maturity when the world is our oyster,
Or when there is an inner knowing of ourselves,
Or is it when we achieve all of our goals and dreams,
Or is it when we have figured out the world around us.

Maturity, let me know what it looks when you find yours,

I seem to have misplaced mine.  

Andreas Simic©
Andreas Simic Sep 2017
Word Association 101©

Today’s word is G-R-A-T-I-T-U-D-E

Select the option you like best as there is no real solution,
and this isn't a real test

So take a position, if it is not an imposition
after all this is nothing but fiction, not a prediction

Leave your hesitation and caution at the door
and put the pedal to the floor

So without procrastination or introduction move trepidation
to elation

Take the plunge it’s not a leap,
for someone here will say throw this on a heap

It may be taken with affection or rejection and
probably needs correction

But onward we go for somehow I must make this flow
Tick the right box if there is such a thing or give it your best fling
If you can’t think of anything

Gratitude is...


Gratitude isn’t...

Or attitude

Gratitude leads to...

Intimate relations

Gratitude may bring...

Hug action

Gratitude is for...
A job well done
A rising sun

That special someone_

Gratitude, let’s start a revolution that leads to emotion
and maybe to a promotion

Gratitude, life’s gift that keeps on giving
and a premonition in addition

Gratitude, for brothers and sisters and others too, pass it along for all to share because we really do care

Andreas Simic©
Andreas Simic Oct 2017
Missing You!©

When I am here, I miss being there
When I am there, I miss being here

When I am in solitude, I miss companionship
When I have companionship, I miss solitude

When I am single, I miss being in relationship
When I am in relationship, I miss being single

When I am working, I miss not working
When I am not working, I miss working

When I am in the city, I miss the countryside
When I am in the countryside, I miss the city

When it is winter and it is cold, I miss the summer
When it is summer and too hot, I miss the winter

When I am on the prairies, I miss the mountains
When I am in the mountains, I miss the prairies

When I am on the rim of the Grand Canyon,
I miss being at the bottom
When I am at the bottom of the Grand Canyon,
I miss the rim,

When I am on the ocean, I miss dry land
When I am on dry land, I miss the ocean

When I am flying, I miss the ground
When I am on the ground, I miss flying

When I am on the east coast, I miss the west coast
When I am on the west coast, I miss the east coast

Maybe what I am missing is the point of it all

Andreas Simic©
Michael Parish Oct 2013
Simic almost starved to death waiting for the
man who told him "our goose is cooked".
I folded my napkin in preporation.  And
remembered what my grandma told me:  
"We never starved in belfast".
But now everyones arived in one piece.
Hoping their goose was cooked.  
We waited and waited.  Two more
guests sat down.  One said " Is our goose
cooked yet"? No not yet!  
Finally a fed up patron
arose from his seat.
He had to of been eighty nine.
Listen he yelled:
Have fun!
Do what ever needs to be done.
Before all of your geese are cooked!
***** waiting for it.
Theres nothing we can do to change the circumstance.
Believe me Im getting the first serving, I can already smell
the aroma.
dazmb  May 2015
Don't tell
dazmb May 2015
lunching on kimchi
spilt it on poetry
doubt that
simic is happy
Andreas Simic Oct 2017
Are the Five Alive©

Can you see it through...
The fog
The smog
The mist

Can you smell it through...
The fear
The odors
The stench

Can you hear it through...
The noise
The racket
The chatter

Can you taste it through...
The spices
The flavors
The bland

Can you touch it through...
The pain
The sorrow
The concessions

If you’ve made it this far through
The gauntlet known as life

Take a bow  for you are alive with the big five
Sight, smell, hearing, taste and feel are for real

Andreas Simic©
Andreas Simic  Nov 2017
Andreas Simic Nov 2017

If I was a kitten
Maybe I wouldn’t be so smitten
It’s as though I’ve been bitten

There is no chance
Of romance
Maybe under a different circumstance

Though it seems she was heaven sent
And I feel an urge to relent
It would likely lead me to repent

Don’t know why the attraction
Am I looking for some sort of satisfaction
Help me Lord to inaction

For I know not why there is this thing
Leading me to ponder a fling
Knowing it will only grief bring

Yet there it is this temptation
Is it there as some sort of revelation
Providing a piece of education

But alas with all my will
I bring a chill
To that part of me seeking a thrill

Andreas Simic©

— The End —