Dec 9, 2017

Night's Sound of Rain






Night's sound of rain
     on roof and skylight
calls back rhythm
     on tin-tile-thatch,
     on canvas-nylon-wood
     on twigs and leaves--
          old and new.

Night's sound of rain
calls upon concern 
     for those who want tomorrow dry,
brings celebration 
     with those who crave it moist,
brings new and repeat anticipations.

Night's sound of rain anticipates 
     morning's first step outside,
     impossible to remember smells
          of vitality and growth
          of burstings and birth,
          of aging, disrepair, and putrefaction,
          of renewal,
          and
          of perfumes that beauty hides when dry.

Come.
Come.
The hour has come.

Rise up to it! 
 





Night's Sound of Rain
Bob Komives








Bob Komives :: Fort Collins © 2017 :: 1710



Oct 14, 2017

I Must Have Some Secrets





“I must have some secrets,” she once told me.
She is still shy
—still private.
Good and bad,
she diverts them
to a calm lake
somewhere inside.
I say, “Tell me,
that's what words are for.”
And, at her best,
she may drip out a drop.
She says, “Hug me,
I need something more.”
And, breast to breast,
I now feel in a flow
that
for
great
volume
force
and
silence
the noise of leaky words
can neither channel nor claim to store.




I Must Have Some Secrets
Bob Komives








Bob Komives :: Fort Collins © 1994 ::  ,9408

Oct 13, 2017

A More Truthful Confession




Ah, Genius of Science,
I confess I owe you much
for chasing off my curable ignorance
and my primitive superstitions.
Yet, 
here lingers
   an armchair romance,
      a well-couched prejudice,
         a naive daydream,
            a more truthful confession:
A favorite few came back.




A More Truthful Confession
Bob Komives







Bob Komives :: Fort Collins © 2017 ::  1706

If I Were a Perfect Cat





If I were a perfect cat,
   good as good can be,
would I breed and feed a neighborhood of kittens
   and teach them to love and worship me?
Perhaps I would,
   but I would be selfish--
   I would not be as good as a good cat can be.

If I Were a Perfect Cat
Bob Komives

What is lovable about my master?
   I call him Mister Supreme.
Yes, he took me in;
he fed and sheltered me--
   but that is easy enough for the all-powerful.
Indeed, he is good to me--
   but that he should be.
He has that obligation.
It is he who chose to bring me in,
and he who expects me to be the perfect cat.




Bob Komives :: Fort Collins © 2017 :: If I were a Perfect Cat  :: 1707

Oct 3, 2017

After A Long Pause





As often happens,
someone asked how he became so successful.
He smiled.

I owe it to advice I got from my uncle as I boarded the ship to leave the old country.

Never say never or always;
people can always prove you wrong.
Seldom say sometimes or maybe;
people may at times find you timid.
Be moderate in all things,
lest you grow old too quickly.
Yet, never be excessive in your moderation,
lest you forget what it is to be young.
On Tuesday and Thursday
be sure to look before you leap.
Other days,
do not be he who hesitates.
Know that he who has no rules is yet to be born;
he who has no exceptions has yet to live.
Take ownership of your future
or of your past
never of both.
Finally,
repeat good advice by the whole
and live the best advice by halves.

As often happens,
after a long pause,
someone asked him his opinion of the weather.


After A Long Pause
Bob Komives



Fort Collins (c) 1994 :: After a Long Pause :: ,9424


Jun 29, 2017

This Week I Plan





I plan to scribble this week:
     both a picture and a poem.


Read this week:
      something neglected and sitting around.


Study this week:
     language and science, new and forgotten.

I plan:
     to prune and weed--a little,
     cobble a little table,
     do a little healthful exercise.

This week will likely:

   surprise me
     at unplanned time
     with something and someone new,
   take me
     over sad-but-noble miles
     to new ashes of old friend,
   give me
     a moment or two
     for these thoughts and thoughts of you.



This Week I Plan

Bob Komives








Fort Collins (c) 1995 :: This Week I Plan :: 1703