i remember. a poem.


i remember

the wonder of not knowing 

people see me,

 bike riding to the village without

a care, because everything 

then was good.

maybe that’s the hardest part of watching

my sons grow up. Now

they’ll realize they have to be

careful. because the world is

harsh 

and it does not understand.

Robins. A poem.

The robins and I

regarded

each other, as if neither were a surprise

but simply the intertwining 

of the world.

The river birch struggles

above us, a victim of last year’s

drought.

This is not a surprise, either.

The world is harsh,

after all.

Book review: The Jubilee by John Blase

Too often unfairly marginalized to the periphery of the publishing world, poets are the ones–more than any other writers–who give life to words and consequently, meaning to life.

This, and the fact that April is National Poetry Month, is why I’m posting about a new book of poetry by my friend, John Blase (pronounced blaZe, no matter how many times auto-correct tries to put emphasis on the “e” and make it sound French).

First off, go buy this book.

Here’s the link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0692858644/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_mnu4ybH1PNMDG

I’ll wait.

Got it?

Good. 

Because within the cover you’ll find one of the most poignant and real, heartbreaking and long-suffering collections of poems around.

Even if you don’t think you like poetry, I guarantee you’ll find a clump of words that will bring your heart to its knees. Like these, for instance:

“I want to live in a world of cashmere

and cleavage coupled with lonely churches beside

old cemeteries overgrown with moss.”

Who writes stuff like that anymore?

John Blase does.

He’s a man who uses words to wrestle with God and all the sense and nonsense of Him.

In his book, you’ll find words that make you blush.

You’ll find words that make you cry.

You’ll find plain-speak and Shakespeare, reverence in irreverence, Heaven in a man’s worship of the curve of a woman’s hip, hope in the heartbreak of a child growing up, reason for the unreasonable pain in life.

He’s a good man, John Blase.

His words are even better.

Buy this collection, if only to thank him for his courage, persistence, doubts, and gift, and that he so freely shares it all with us.

And be sure to click here to visit his website, too, for more good words. Goodness knows we need them these days.