#observed
How I Observed the Day of Atonement
If you are unfamiliar with day and its observance,
See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yom_Kippur
In a place of perfect solitude,
No crowded synagogue within to hide,
No cantor to intercede on my behalf,
I spoke words of mine own creation
To my creator who wisely empowers me
To judge myself, for knowing, none harsher,
We two,
Old travel companions,
Upon worn grayed, adirondacke thrones,
We overlooked,
A natural prayer place,
Bay and breeze, white-clouded and sun-laced.
Only the full time inhabitants, the animals,
Grayling butterflies to match and contrast,
Eavesdropping on our Greek dialogos, in this,
Palace of Perfect Solitude.
Amiable did we chat,
I of family, this and that.
He, wearied from recent travel,
To Syria and India,
Was glad for a day off,
For he had little to do,
But wait for twilight,
To then close the books.
For us no formality, easy the going,
No prosecutor no defender in residence,
For we exchange these roles intermittently,
The incriminatory, the penance, all deeds displayed,
No adult games of winking eyes, and
Hidden heart, secret chambers,
Rabbinical or angelic intercession.
He does so love his Bach,
Adagio on strings,
My soothing gift to him,
This music more than divine.
He returned this courtesy.
Warming sun to expose my chest,
Cooling genteel breeze offsetting,
The bay emptied of wayfaring skiffs and yachts.
A cooling beverage proffered,
But sighing, he said that he had yet to find
A beverage that his kind of thirst could slake.
For his eyes, tho shining, did not effervesce,
As when we shared this day in years past.
Too much killing, this year,
It tires me so to tabulate human excess,
Spoke not a word, for my critique would
Comfort him less, if at all.
Thanks for Kol Nidre, he plainted,
So I too can disavow,
The best intended oaths I took and take,
For each year, I fail more than the year before.
If only I could sit with each,
As I do with you,
Where what needs saying,
Is said, understood, undisguised as praying.
A schooner to the dock did appear,
For him it attended, for him, it waited,
Sails, both black and white.
He stood to depart, my arms-grasped, taken, he graphing,
Measuring my fortitude, my strengths, my divinity.
I do so love this day in your company.
I shall sit with you again one year on,
Bach sweet when next we meet, please.
Soft spoke, as almost I should not hear,
Your time is nigh, no thing I create is forever.
He spoke with such sadness,
For well I knew, the intent, his meaning.
He, for-himself, saddened, for he loved
Sitting beside me in this manner,
Since my inception, never deception,
Only He resting easy, when he atoned before me,
And I gave him his absolution conditional,
As he gave me,
mine
<nml>
Oct 2, 2025
Oct 2, 2025 at 8:44 AM UTC
my every move captured
the little fiends are note-taking
squirrels on the fence
watch me put up battlements
surrounding our thriving tomato plants
Good Luck !
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 7:09 AM UTC
I heard it.
A human voice.
Connection established, solitude broken.
The sound of a string snapping,
(....)
I hope I was mistaken.
Silence collapsing under its own weight.
Scattered quarks and anti-quarks
shattering the perfect neutral harmony.
The remorseless swelling of matter.
Until no stillness, no Nothing remains.
Mar 21, 2021
Mar 21, 2021 at 9:48 AM UTC
~~~~
~for Isabel (‘30), Alexander (‘31), and Wendy (‘35)~
~~~~
In a place of perfect solitude,
No crowded synagogue within to hide,
No cantor to intercede on my behalf,
I spoke words of mine own creation
To my Creator
Who wisely empowers me
To judge myself, for knowing,
None harsher
We two,
Old travel companions,
Upon worn grayed, Adirondack thrones,
We overlooked
A natural prayer place,
Bay and breeze, white-clouded, sun-laced.
Only the full time inhabitants,
the animals,
Grayling butterflies to match and contrast,
Eavesdropping on our Greek dialogo,
In this holy place,
Palace of Perfect Solitude
Amiable did we chat,
I, of family, this and that
He,
wearied from recent travel,
To Syria and India,
Was glad for a day off,
For He had little to do,
But wait for twilight,
To then close the books
For us no formality, easy the going,
No prosecutor, no defender in residence,
For we exchanged these roles intermittently,
The incriminatory, the penance, all deeds displayed,
No adult games of winking eyes, and
Hidden heart, secret chambers,
Rabbinical or angelic intercession
He does so love his Bach,
Adagio on strings,
My soothing gift to him,
This music more than divine
He returned this courtesy
Warming sun to expose my chest,
Cooling genteel breeze offsetting,
sunset color palette spectacular,
The bay emptied of wayfaring skiffs and yachts.
A cooling beverage proffered,
But sighing, He said that he had yet to find
A beverage that could ever slake
his kind of thirst
For his eyes, tho shining, did not effervesce,
As when we shared this day in years past
Too much killing, this year,
It tires Me so to tabulate human excess,
Spoke not a word, for my critique would
Comfort him less,
if at all
Thanks for Kol Nidre, He plainted,
So I too can disavow,
The best intended oaths I took and take,
For each year, I fail more than the year before.
If only I could sit with each,
As I do with you,
Where what needs saying,
Is said, understood,
Undisguised as praying
A schooner to the dock did appear,
For Him it attended, for Him, it waited,
Sails, wind whipped,
Sails, both black and white.
He stood to depart, my arms-he-grasped,
Me-taken, he-graphing,
Measuring my fortitude, the strength,
of my divine spark
I do so love this day in your company.
I shall sit with you again one year on,
Bach sweet, when next we meet, please
Soft spoke, as almost I should not hear,
Your time is nigh, no thing I create is forever.
He spoke with such sadness,
For well I knew, the intent, his meaning.
He,
for-himself, saddened, for he loved
Sitting beside me in this manner,
Since my inception, never a deception
Only He resting easy,
when He atoned before me,
And I gave him His absolution conditional,
As he gave me,
mine
Aug 11, 2020
Aug 11, 2020 at 12:39 PM UTC
in the predawn fog
a faint outline of fences
could be observed
Jun 20, 2020
Jun 20, 2020 at 7:56 AM UTC
Suckling at the ghost ****
full-feast in your slumber
button beast in a swaddle-veil
bellying about
in your dream business
free of reference
and unlearned
Sleep people
Sleep staff
Sleep doctors and Sleep teachers
mental attractions and morphing playmates
recasting to the tune
of your barbaric vagary
flashing charm for your attentions
flicking at the inner eye
Pup napping
is now ghost scrapping
you have a sleep grin
in your very first fight
perhaps you are winning ?
Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 8:05 AM UTC
How I Observed the Day of Atonement
If you are unfamiliar with day and its observance,
See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yom_Kippur
In a place of perfect solitude,
No crowded synagogue within to hide,
No cantor to intercede on my behalf,
I spoke words of mine own creation
To my creator who wisely empowers me
To judge myself, for knowing, none harsher,
We two,
Old travel companions,
Upon worn grayed, adirondacke thrones,
We overlooked,
A natural prayer place,
Bay and breeze, white-clouded and sun-laced.
Only the full time inhabitants, the animals,
Grayling butterflies to match and contrast,
Eavesdropping on our Greek dialogos, in this,
Palace of Perfect Solitude.
Amiable did we chat,
I of family, this and that.
He, wearied from recent travel,
To Syria and India,
Was glad for a day off,
For he had little to do,
But wait for twilight,
To then close the books.
For us no formality, easy the going,
No prosecutor no defender in residence,
For we exchange these roles intermittently,
The incriminatory, the penance, all deeds displayed,
No adult games of winking eyes, and
Hidden heart, secret chambers,
Rabbinical or angelic intercession.
He does so love his Bach,
Adagio on strings,
My soothing gift to him,
This music more than divine.
He returned this courtesy.
Warming sun to expose my chest,
Cooling genteel breeze offsetting,
The bay emptied of wayfaring skiffs and yachts.
A cooling beverage proffered,
But sighing, he said that he had yet to find
A beverage that his kind of thirst could slake.
For his eyes, tho shining, did not effervesce,
As when we shared this day in years past.
Too much killing, this year,
It tires me so to tabulate human excess,
Spoke not a word, for my critique would
Comfort him less, if at all.
Thanks for Kol Nidre, he plainted,
So I too can disavow,
The best intended oaths I took and take,
For each year, I fail more than the year before.
If only I could sit with each,
As I do with you,
Where what needs saying,
Is said, understood, undisguised as praying.
A schooner to the dock did appear,
For him it attended, for him, it waited,
Sails, both black and white.
He stood to depart, my arms-grasped, taken, he graphing,
Measuring my fortitude, my strengths, my divinity.
I do so love this day in your company.
I shall sit with you again one year on,
Bach sweet when next we meet, please.
Soft spoke, as almost I should not hear,
Your time is nigh, no thing I create is forever.
He spoke with such sadness,
For well I knew, the intent, his meaning.
He, for-himself, saddened, for he loved
Sitting beside me in this manner,
Since my inception, never deception,
Only He resting easy, when he atoned before me,
And I gave him his absolution conditional,
As he gave me,
mine
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 3:17 PM UTC
I find humans fascinating.
Confusing, frustrating - yes,
but fascinating.
Take a look next time you're out.
Watch them carefully.
They are
- fascinating.
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 3:37 PM UTC
Unwittingly and surprisingly so often ignored is appreciation.
Of gifts, the love, the nurture received, given in true benefaction.
Even lack of spoken gratitude from the receiver, by the giver it is perceived.
Accordingly that which is given and is conspicuously wordlessly received
from the recipient, bathed in sublime silence, shines the appreciativeness
When physical attraction evolves into the love for each other entirely,
overwhelmed with gratitude for feelings, passion, desire, intrinsic sensuality.
In carnal gratification intertwined lovers, murmur words the moment in time set
as the act of true love, lovers appreciation of each other is a prerequisite,
kindling their deep and profound recognition of the symbiotic enchantment
Individuals have so much in life for which to celebrate in thankfulness
Taken for granted are emotional feelings of those who daily acquiesce.
Actions, items the mundane, all forgotten overlooked values unconsidered,
A list almost without end, descriptions of conceded gratitude left unsaid,
until its familiar benefits cease, revealing immediate impact of gratitude held concealed.
The Quality Feeling Of Thankful Michael C Crowder 30th December 2018
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 11:01 AM UTC
Before her the open laptop stares
At settled coffee shop young lady
smart appearance nice hair.
Phone close, to hand for just maybe.
nowhere in particular she looks here and there,
as she shares short glances between
coffee shop phone and screen,
An image created of controlled serenity,
around her the tidal increase of customers ebb and flow.
Laptop screen, a document shines out, I'm here.
Momentarily her phone blinks me too
then returns to outward inactivity.
An embryo smile flickers, perhaps a thought
of the fleeting communication, perhaps not,
voices sway back and forth then, spike of a laugh
quickly swallowed by the ambience to give way
to hisses, gurgles of music coffee machines play.
Young men perch and slouch in fervent conversation
They leave, talking, passing Dad with daughters so pleased
when discovering window side seats, wait in anticipation,
where delivers Dad , then into newspaper immerses.
Girls silently survey the scene, hot chocolate cupped
shortly paper closes, a look, chocolate speedily drunk
to join dads exit swift, wordless and abrupt
past headphoned staff in crockery recovery.
Incessantly tables change coffee treats enjoyed again,
The coffee shop laptop lady alone but not lonely
chooses to be, just maybe, happy in her own skin.
scorsby
MICHAEL C CROWDER 1st January 2019
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 8:29 AM UTC
~~~~~~~
Is It Better :
To Gesture & Not Speak
or
To Follow Blindly
And Imitate
?
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 3:46 PM UTC