Bob Schwartz

Tag: poetry

Gravity

Gravity

This beautiful truth
Lifts me up
Weightless in the sky.
This ugly truth
Drags me down
Into the abyss.
I try knowing no difference
To make peace with gravity.

Dawn Moon

Dawn Moon

Full moon in the West at dawn.
What rare magic.
What picture could tell
The time and direction
The sounds and sun
Reflecting off
Its distant pale
Pockmarked face
Now fading?
When it happens again
What record will there be?
This and memory.

Seasons Meeting

Seasons Meeting

Seasons meet
In August.
This morning
Green trees
Hiding houses.
Heat and sun break
For gray clouds and
Cool breeze.
Not now, soon
Trees will explode
Color to bare,
Houses revealed.
Breeze to harsh wind.
These flimsy clothes
Will grow thick.
But not today.

Please Don’t Dominate the Rap Jack: New Speedway Boogie Today

New Speedway Boogie 4

The Grateful Dead’s Workingman’s Dead album (1970) is a showcase for the brilliance of lyricist and poet Robert Hunter. (Hunter was inducted into the Rock Hall with the Dead in 1994, and is the only non-performer member of a band ever to be so honored.)

Listen to New Speedway Boogie, or read the lyrics below, and see if it doesn’t have something to say today.

Please don’t dominate the rap, Jack
If you’ve got nothing new to say
If you please, don’t back up the track
This train’s got to run today

I spent a little time on the mountain
I spent a little time on the hill
I heard some say better run away
Others say better stand still

I don’t know, but I been told
It’s hard to run with the weight of gold
Other hand I have heard it said
It’s just as hard with the weight of lead

Who can deny, who can deny
It’s not just a change in style
One step done and another begun
And I wonder how many miles

I spent a little time on the mountain
I spent a little time on the hill
Things went down we don’t understand
But I think in time we will
Now, I don’t know, but I was told
In the heat of the sun a man died of cold

Keep on coming or stand and wait,
With the sun so dark and the hour so late.
You can overlook the lack, Jack
Of any other highway to ride

It’s got no signs or dividing lines
And very few rules to guide
I spent a little time on the mountain
I spent a little time on the hill
I saw things getting out of hand
I guess they always will

I don’t know, but I been told
If the horse don’t pull you got to carry the load
I don’t know whose back’s that strong
Maybe find out before too long

One way or another, one way or another
One way or another, this darkness got to give
One way or another, one way or another
One way or another, this darkness got to give
One way or another, one way or another
One way or another, this darkness got to give

Written by Jerome J. Garcia, Robert C. Hunter

Plainday Plainsong

Plainday Plainsong

An old friend says
That when you fully notice anything
You are there.
The morning wind blows chill
Driving away thoughts
Of hot summer.
The birds are long awake
Forever.
A white steeple
Shoots out of a green sea.
Later they will gather under it
To sing.
My old friend is gone
Four hundred years
And still speaking.

Practices

Practices

Our practices grow ragged
From disuse
Or irregularity.
Don’t fret.
There they are
Patient for our return.
Once a day
Once a year
Once in a lifetime.
Always ready and waiting.

Poem: A Flight of Stuff

A Flight of Stuff

Simple enough
Pack and go.
But what was this airport?
People I knew
And strangers
And strangers I knew.
Narrow passageways
And great halls.
Why was my stuff unpacked
And whose stuff was it anyway?
My companions had headed for the gate.
What time was the flight?
So many bags
So much to review and repack
Or leave behind.
This and this,
I remember this
But this, this,
What is it?
What does it do,
What would I ever had wanted with it?
Had the flight left?
Concerned but not panicked
A whisper of sadness.
The more I looked around
The more there was.
Where was that flight going anyway?
Why had they left me alone
Behind with this stuff?

Poem: My Night with the Sages

Talmud

My Night with the Sages

I found their numbers
Six, sixty-three.
Dispensing wisdom
Demanding action
Citing authority.
Talking
And talking
And talking.
How could they possibly
Help with the night?
Lost in loud logic
Where is the comfort or distraction?
But I called anyway
And they came.
To uneasy free floating
In the bleak
They added gravity
And light
Not quite
In reach
But there.
To sleep.

Poem: Between the Waters

Hexagram 29 - Theresa Blanding

Between the Waters

Let there be an expanse that it may separate water from water.
Genesis 1:6

It is a bottomless pit
The waters above
The waters below.
An abyss
A sea without boats.
No ground to stand.
Just falling.

If there is space between
How vast must it be
To contain hope?
Could it be so small
And still be heaven?

Poem: Garden

SoilGarden

Carry the soil
Dig the holes
Plant the seeds
Water the garden
Or just watch
And wait.
Which are you,
If you know?