Friday, October 18, 2013

Wild mushrooms ought to be strawberries...

Wild mushrooms break out in the green-
brown carpet of the forest floor 
Cool temps now, not ready to freeze
their smooth brown stained skins like diamonds
in the rough, as we trek along,
They sprout like small emotional outbursts 
calling for help or attention
Hunting for that delicate food,
be they Chantrelle, portobello, 
or morele, brings delight to the soul 
And upon a crash of thunder 
and split second lightning flashes
arrives quickened rain, teasing
out summer's end
Retreating flowers still decorate 
their heads
The beat goes on though, and fate
heralds autumn's decor
as testified to by Sonny and Cher
We hunker down, covering up our trails with
compost or wood chips
Odd souls find comfort in seasonal changes,  
ever longing for the distinction
between the times
A hopeful generation, we,
reaching the autumn of our lives
Prone to gaze at a rosy reflections, 
to succumb to the powers of 
wood smoke or bay leaves steaming
We knew it wasn't right 
and little has changed
Night is closer in now, fog rolling in - 
we devour steamed mushrooms, 
lush mussels with butter and bread, 
in turn raising a glass of wine
The best of us didn't leave;
 it was buried by the debris left,
still littering our clean forests
A childish government jealous 
of it's own leader I believe
Sad, for it could be too late 
to build anew, review,
- if by candlelight,  
Be an advocate or scold them
with pen and paper
Struck by the smallness of the world 
on a screen, we click to misfortunes 
on a large world scale
We would rather look to mankind's best self,
but privately we weep -
Choices were made and we were not heard 
for the din of disdain; 
but we are still not satisfied
Deer and chipmunks grow thicker coats 
as the woodpecker pounds his 
five hundredth hole
....sated by the fields' harvest,
spent amid the smoking leaves -
we still try to find our peace


  1. hope of youth beaten down by bitterness.. and those glorious moments lingering in memory...loved how you mingled it with cooking.. memories of past meals can evoke those feelings with just the taste of bay leaf.

    1. and men keep on marching off to war....

  2. I remember those days of hope when everything seemed possible, the impossible within arms reach if we just stretched hard enough...and still we reach out...but these days with less energy and little hope...
    Anna :o]

    1. reminiscing is easier than doing something positive about anything..

  3. Realising that we have forsaken our ideals can lead to bitter thoughts. I enjoyed the smell of the smoking leaves and the allusion to food. And yes, in the end "we still try to find our peace".

    1. history turned many pages in the "beat" era.....

  4. I think your piece expressed well some of the changes that have taken place, so subtly we have hardly noticed. I hope it is not too late to build anew. We definitely could use a fresh start and a path to peace.

    1. the beatnicks we used to call useless actually made an impact on the world..

  5. wow felt piece....first i love mushroons, made me a bit hungry...maybe not for the kind that make you see visions...smiles....its hard when our hopes are not realized and at times that we are even part of that problem....

    1. we can't muster the energy to march anymore. let alone make free love in the streets..

  6. This is a poem of deep metaphors and deeper feelings - a quiet protest - quiet as the center of the forest that can't hold back change, knowing destruction looms, but carrying on because that's what the forest, the animals and the people do. Wonderfully written piece fully in the spirit of the beat poet - and it does go on...(can't think of that song without flashing on the movie Groundhog Day).

    1. Thank you! It comes from being closer to nature more of late...and yes, both those songs were the 'beat' era ..67 I think ;)

    2. Stunning piece down memory lane. I think 'I got you Babe' was 65:)

  7. Even though I think it was "I Got You Babe" and not "The Beat Goes On"...ha!

  8. Atmospheric, sensitive poem reflecting thoughts of many of us. Nicely done.

  9. strawberry fields forever came to mind.. love the play on the mushrooms as well...the symbols you use to capture the spirit of the time.. very cool take on the prompt..

  10. Amazing piece--"we are still not satisfied." The passing of time makes it harder to stay radical, though. We get comfortable . . . Beautiful mixture of peace and unease, akin to the Beat poets who were more influenced by Zen than by the condemning prophetic tradition.

    On a personal note, I know due to circumstances you have not been able to be as productive these days, but I sincerely miss it when you aren't writing. Your words are always worth reading!

    1. You are so right about our getting comfortable...not as much risk taking anymore...
      ..on the personal note, I really appreciate your letting me know you like my writing...I'm honored, Nico!

  11. A very layered piece on poignant reflections of dashed hopes and dreams. Wonderful!


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