The annual report
says I’m alive,
but my most memorable
recent dream
is of a portico
that’s unattached,
that leads nowhere, that needs
to be rebuilt.
The parts no longer fit
together. They
may still look strong and sound,
but lie there in
the dirt and will not move.
The contractors
I hire all do their best,
to no avail.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 26, 2015
Sweep, Vacuum, Dust
(with presbyopia)
We’re not in a health club–we have no cool shirt.
We don’t go to yoga–nor live in a yurt.
In our house, we clean,
And try to stay lean,
But now with our old eyes, we see much less dirt!
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 24, 2015
Well, everyone liked him, but she
had only been 16, (“Almost
was 17!” she still would say),
when he met both her parents first
and said, “Yes, I am 25,
but can I take your daughter out?”
They made him wait six months, and have
what then was called a double date,
and bring her back by ten. But when
she was in college and told them
it’s his ring on her finger, then
they almost made her stay at home.
He promised she would graduate,
and so they set their wedding date.
In spite of strong parental fears,
they have been married for ten years.
[For M and K, whose life has been
only somewhat like this.]
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 23, 2015
(April 17, Michael Hammer
piano)
so many keys played carefully
one at a time or recklessly
in clumps in chords in runs in scales
hands bouncing fingers waggling trills
yet knowing each composer’s need
for a performer’s sloth or speed
for piano or fortissimo
to Hammer or to gently go
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 18, 2015
It’s sexist, demeaning, though hard to explain
That a positive adjective can be a pain:
The papers we scan
Don’t say Jane’s handsome man,
It’s always Joe Blow and his lovely wife, Jane.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 16, 2015
On Snoring
I wake and my lips are all chapped,
My sinuses completely stopped.
Breath through my nose is what’s missing.
My biggest regret: no kissing.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 15, 2015
What I believe
and state firmly
does not matter
nearly as much
as my actions
in revealing my
character.
Who I am
can be seen:
much more clearly
by observers
than learned by
hearers or readers
of my words,
so carefully chosen.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 12, 2015
Buzzkill
Five in a line in our family
(all of them females, of course),
have the name Bee in the middle
(between their last and their first.)
Half of the bees in our country
died over winter last year.
One out of three of our foodstuffs
need bees or will disappear.
Einstein may not be who said it
(no one has proved it was he),
that we will die, yes, each family
within two years of the bee.
We need more prairies and fruit trees,
(that are not sprayed from above.)
Honey from new hives can happen:
we need to give bees our love.
[written in 9 minutes early this morning after hearing a PechaKucha 20-slides-each-20 seconds talk last night by Urbana, Illinois, beekeeper Maggie Wachter at a Sola Gratia Farm dinner.]
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 12, 2015
Our April morning
sky, ribbed in violet,
now becomes
magenta fading into
dusty blue without
a single white cloud
to distract our horizon gaze
waiting for our spinning
globe to show the sun.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 12, 2015
Her voice is low and very resonant,
but now, with age, I often cannot hear
each word. She rightly takes offense at that
and thinks me inattentive. If my ear
is turned away, or if I do not see
her moving lips, the sounds are often lost.
For other women there is jealousy
since I can hear them fine. It is not lust
for at the string trio tonight, the sound
of violin was clear, cello was round,
but viola was lost in the background…
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL April 8, 2015
Views from the Edge 