Welcome, 2025. Hope we all survive.

 

A POEM FOR SOME GUY

 

You didn’t speak the language and you didn’t know the score.

You made the team, you got the ball, but the rules had changed.

You met a guy who knew a guy who might have seen it happen.

You walked the walk, you talked the talk, but you got there a minute too late.

You said you thought it was okay, but you didn’t, not really.

You laughed in all the right places but the smile never reached your eyes.

You said you were concerned, you were thinking about it, you would study

the issues, but you really just meant “no.”

You were going to get to the bottom of it, shine a light on it, illuminate the truth,

but you just ended up ordering take-out instead.

You looked at the world with a piercing gaze, but only saw what you wanted to see.

You thought if you just kept walking you’d find yourself in a better place,

with more options and greater insight, but you were really just a few more miles

down the same road.

You thought if you got more it would be enough, but it was not enough,

it was not better, it was just more.

 

So now you still don’t know who you really are, or what you really need,

or where you are really going, but you are still hell-bent on getting there.

 

Carry on.

 

--Lynn Skordal (1/10/25)

A Raven

A Raven (7/5/24)

I saw the body of a dead raven today as I was driving the freeway south to Seattle.  I only caught a fleeting glimpse as I passed by, but was startled by how large it was.  Slick black feathers swayed in the breeze of cars speeding by inches away, and nobody seemed to notice.  It seemed an ignominious end for such a magnificent bird.  I wanted to take it into my arms and carry it to a safer place (is any place safe when you’re dead?) but I did not stop.  There were friends waiting for me in Seattle and I was busy.  We’re all busy.  Busy living.  Busy dying.

 

2024: A Poem for This Planet

A POEM FOR THIS PLANET

 

There are no places for the poor in this world

So they live on their knees and eat garbage.

You walk proud and tall above them

Your coat is warm

Your shoes are soft

And you only fall to your knees to suck pleasure out of the darkness.

 

Above us all cold stars gleam and dead rocks float in silence.

(We all get what we deserve, yeah?)

There are no places for the wounded in this world

So they bleed openly and the bleeding never stops.

You sit near by, close enough to judge but far enough for comfort (yours)

Your back is straight

Your arms are strong

And you only bleed when it’s fashionable to do so.

 

Above us all cold stars gleam and dead rocks float in silence.

(We all get what we deserve, yeah?)

There are no places for the weak in this world

So they bow down, foreheads to the ground, and wait.

You probably didn’t notice as you stepped over them because why would you, really

Your eye is sharp

Your aim is true

And you only bow your head when the music moves you.

 

Above us all cold stars gleam and dead rocks float in silence.

(We all get what we deserve, yeah?)

-- Lynn Skordal 1/1/24

 

2023

2023

 

Welcome, new year, I greet you with open arms

and side eye.

I resolve to make no resolutions, but predictions

            must be made.

 

Long furry catkins will continue to drip down, but the forest

            will be on the move.

Snow will continue to fall on cracked soil, but the ground will heave and splinter, if not this year,

            then soon.

Men and women will comfort each other and pray for better but

            an angry young man will still raise his long gun and aim it at blacks, or muslims, or children.

You will count those you love on the fingers of one hand, but, by the end of the year,

            you will still be able to make a fist.

 

And in the watery depths, the snow crabs will continue to eat their own young, but, for a while at least,

            there will be fishing.

 

Happy new year. 

 

LMS  1/2/23

 

Four Visual Poems

Sometimes I make a poem and integrate it into an image, a "visual poem."  Here are some:

before you

In Omaha

Typewriter Poem

You and Me