In a Drop ~ a plein air poem & meditation on our connection with nature

In a Drop

 

 

of saltwater,

you can see an ocean

blueing;

 

of rain,

you can hear blossoms

opening;

 

of wine,

you can taste a landscape

sunning;

 

of quicksilver,

you can scent weather

coming;

 

of ink,

you can touch a poet

dreaming;

 

of a tear,

you can feel your being

flowing.

 

 

Colin Goedecke

in the woodlands

of Morristown, New Jersey

March, 2017

 

Homo digitalis | Digital Man

Homo digitalis   /   Digital Man

 

 

Over-wired 

to the world.

 

Under-wired

to the heart.

 

E-volving 

and devolving.

 

Who lives yin-ly

and yang-ly, i.e.

 

actually

and virtually;

 

from restless

plugging in

 

to endless plugging up.

A curious species

 

both spacious 

and specious.

 

Man of this

progressively

 

Expressive-

Regressive,

 

time-lapsing

Moment.

 

 

Colin Goedecke

moving between cityside & countryside

March, 2017 

 

Into the Wild Green Wonder ~ a plein air poem & ode to another Spring

Into the Wild Green Wonder

 

                an Ode to Spring

 

Under Spring’s Wild Blue

Wonder we enter its new

and renewing Green.

Enchanting us round parks

and woodlands, ponds,

hillsides, meadowlands.

Awakening us

through all our years,

all the ages of earth,

all the pages of history,

poetry, mythology.

With its symphony

of daring colors. 

Its delicate flowering.

Its essencing 

of innocence; ecstasy

of purest presence.

Beckoning us

to fall once again 

into the wild green wonder

of its outstretched arms,

like forever young and

eager lovers. 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

in the Loantaka Woods

Morristown, New Jersey

March, 2017

 

Re: Birth ~ a plein air poem for our Spring Equinox

Re: Birth

 

            for our Spring Equinox(es)

 

First breath.

To last breath.

What flows between

is the reveling

and leveling

of living.

The many faces

and found graces

of loving.

The transcendental

moments ~

of great epiphanies,

deep ecstasies,

timeless memories.

The embodiments

of you becoming

even now

ever new,

ever free

to spring.

 

 

Colin Goedecke

on Braidburn Way

Morristown, New Jersey

March 20, 2017

 

Let There Be Lightness ~ a plein air poem for the Winter Solstice

Let There Be Lightness

  

                                      at the winter solstice

 

To dispel all darkness,

all heaviness.

Let there be waxing,

toward all things

lightening,

all things humanizing.

Let the world turn back

to itself anew;

the stopping sun

return back aglow;

hope burn hot

and bright

in eager hearts.

Let us, as Nature’s

creations, remember

its sacredness,

and bring to life

and each other

the great sparks of soul

that shoot and shimmer

within our earthliness.

 

 

Colin Goedecke

at The Loantaka Brook

Morristown, New Jersey

December 21st, 2016 

 

Dreaming in Chinese ~ a plein air poem & reverie

Dreaming in Chinese

 

 

It hasn’t happened yet.

But I wonder

what it would be like

to dream in Chinese.

Maybe induced by

the smoke of lapsang souchong

or fire of rice wine, mijiu.

Would I find myself

standing on a corner

in old Shanghai singing

a song to the moon

in Mandarin?

Buying a bright-throated bird

in the market, maybe

a hua mei to stroll with;

serenade my mornings.

Fishing for mottled carp

from a low wooden boat

on the Yangtze.

Dipping a brush to paint

a mountain landscape

disappearing into the mist.

 

 

Colin Goedecke

Convent Station, New Jersey

May, 2016

 

The Great Blue ~ a plein air poem for a heron on a summer pond

The Great Blue

 

           meditation on a great blue heron

 

I love his presence.

His absolute stillness;

aura of solitude,

sacredness.

His long-legged patience

in the wind-stirred pond.

Gracefully at one

with everything;

wholly attuned

to every moment, movement

above and below the surface.

His watchfulness, sureness

despite the drift of time

and summer clouds,

into the split-second

he spies and elegantly spears

a shining fish, 

and flies off

in his Great Blueness

to a nearby bank

of cattail grass

to feast, and rest.

 

 

Colin Goedecke

on Kitchell Pond

Loantaka Brook Reservation

Convent Station, NJ

July, 2016

 

Early Summer Morning, After Rain ~ a plein air poem for summertime in the City

Early Summer Morning, After Rain

 

 

Stepping into the city

after a nightlong rain,

 

onto cool, wet cobblestones.

 

Into full, floating scents

of moist earth,

thriving green leaves,

the lime-musk

of sycamore bark,

the pale perfume

of a run-wild rosebush.

 

Into quietly inviting feelings

of freshness, lushness.

Everything washed down,

washed clean;

every planting overspilling.

 

Past puddles

in the walking path

all clear and still,

like the reservoir

I circle softly round,

 

but for the ripple

of a bell

from an old churchtower

ringing

the morning hour

across the water.

 

 

Colin Goedecke

Central Park, New York  

July 5th, 2016

 

 

 

 

continue the (r)evolution ~ a plein air poem for our human species, our humankind

continue the (r)evolution

 

 

and (re)cognition, from

 

 

Homo habilis.

Able man

 

to

 

Homo erectus.

Standing man

 

to

 

Homo sapiens.

Knowing man

 

to truer, maybe sooner

 

inner glowing,

outer flowing

 

Homo animas.

Soul man.

 

 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

Convent Station, New Jersey

July, 2016

 

The Road to Kaliskia ~ a plein air poem from Greece & the Aegean

The Road to Kaliskia

 

 

 The ocher earth road

spools down, sails out,

plunges into sapphire,

into the swaying sea.

 

Marble-strewn coves

shelter solitary boats,

sun-blown branches,

slow-swimming bodies.

 

A lyre-wind

plays gently, lyrically

over the waters,

over the wonders.

 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

Kaliskia, Kea

The Cyclades

August 2012

Picnic in the Air ~ a plein air poem for summer

Picnic in the Air

 

 

Where gravity is suspended

by late-afternoon.

Leaving you free to picnic

or frolic past sunset,

moonset,

at any altitude you desire,

on deep cushions of air.

Round an awning-striped

tablecloth spread

weightlessly,

elegantly

with cold, blushing

bottles of wine,

hard and soft cheeses,

cow and goat

from France and Spain;

wildly crusty loaves

of bread, whose crumbs

drift off here and there

on the breeze

to feed peckish passing birds.

Wrinkled olives,

ripe berries,

sparkling water;

bubbling laughter

and languid pleasure

over the floating feast.

 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

Convent Station, New Jersey

July, 2016

Let the Fireworks Begin ~ a plein air poem for the 4th of July

Let the Fireworks Begin

 

 

 

The star showers.

The wild flowerings.

The palm trees and peonies,

dahlias, chrysanthemums

of high-flying light;

The waterfalls

of sparks, colors.

The bright night-burnings

embering down

into dark.

The flashes

and shimmers

of earth-flung comets,

bracelets, diadems.

The rocketing arcs

you follow with wide-open eyes, 

almost held-breath,

till you ohh and aah

from the outbursts

of silver and gold;

emerald, rose, rare blue.

Feel the ensuing booms

reverberate in your belly

as you lie face-to-sky

on a wide-spread blanket

easy and cozy with friends.

And savor all ~

amid the dangling spangles,

and wizzing, crackling,

whistling sounds ~

with innocent wonder.

Through the last fanfare:

the blazing, rousing finale;

the applause,

the drifting clouds

of smoke and contented crowds.

 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

Morristown, New Jersey

July 4th, 2016

A Day the Sun Stood Still ~ a plein air poem for the summer solstice

A Day the Sun Stood Still

 

 

                  for this summer solstice

 

 

Today.

A day unlike any other,

past or future.

Not because the sun will stand

still, at the Tropic of Cancer,

then reverse

its northerly arc

and head radiantly south,

toward the Tropic of Capricorn.

Not because a full moon,

a native, votive Strawberry Moon

will, just once

in most of our lifetimes,

rise on the same plane.

Today is a day unlike any other

because it’s a new day

of light, lightness; 

rareness, wonder

open to one, to all. 

A day where our own stillness

can greatly illuminate.

Where we can choose

to move likewise;

clock-or-counterclockwise,

in phenomenal directions.

Can invoke a fresh season, 

infusion, green summer of self; 

bring ripening

to our life seeds,

fruits, vines, visions;

connect more deeply,

simply to the earth;

to the purely elemental

shining inside, around

and above us.

 

 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

On the Summer Solstice,

at the Loantaka Brook Reservation

Convent Station, New Jersey

June 20, 2016

 

I See Him ~ a plein air poem for my father

I See Him

 

 

I see him

in the self-portrait

I make

on the road to Vourkari:

his pure manliness,

his handsomeness,

fathered

into my face:

eyes, nose and brow

in deep shadow

under a brim

of coconut straw --

a touch like the summer hat

he used to wear

with a madras band;

mine unbanded.

Half my expression

in shadow, the other --

mouth, chin and his jaw,

our jaw,

in high sun;

turned at a slight right

and upward angle

to the camera:

a portrait

in son and shade

of father.

 

 

Colin Goedecke

On the road to Vourkari, Kea, Greece

August 2012

The Lady Smiled ~ a plein air poem for the Statue of Liberty & all things liberating

The Lady Smiled

 

               for Ute Dugan on becoming an American citizen

 

When you took your oath to life,

liberty and the pursuit of happiness

today, the statue

of the colossally copper-clad lady

standing since 1886

at New York’s door

with her sunlit torch of gold,

smiled. And as she smiled,

ships of all shapes

and sizes and ages,

especially ferries and tugs,

blew whistles and horns

sky-high and bass-low.

And bells on bicycles

and church towers,

from the Battery to Gramercy

rang clearly, and joyfully.

All to salute you

and your declaration of independence,

your pledge to pursue the possibilities

and great freedoms

that come with being an American;

that belong to us as citizens;

who, us among them, welcome you

today with broad stripes and bright stars.

 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

New York City

April 2007 

 

 

 

Green Clouds ~ a plein air poem from the watery wilds of Alaska

Green Clouds

 

 

 

Green clouds

lie along the surface

of our coastal passage.

Clouds of conifers,

of Sitka spruce and cedar,

shore pine,

hemlock and alder;

that change shape by decades

instead of days;

by generations

of snow and light;

that share the shelter

of their deep-rooted solace

with the water,

the earth, the birds

and sometime-passing men.

 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

The Inside Passage, SE Alaska

July 2009

The Day to Spring - a plein air poem for the vernal equinox

The Day to Spring

 

                                          a poem for the spring equinox


It's The Day to Spring,

from winter's bare coil.

The Day for Self, 

and Nature,

to draw its longbowed

heart and sap back

and let fly,

freely,

swiftly,

vernally forth,

air to ground,

arrowing

with anticipation

into the marrow

of all newness,

all awakening,

all fullness.

 

  

Colin Goedecke

Central Park, New York

March 20, 2016

A Too-ra Loo-ra Day ~ a plein air poem for St. Patrick's Day

A Too-ra Loo-ra Day

                                                                                                                             

 

 

There's a glossy, moss-hatted leprechaun

smiling Irishly on the subway platform,

waiting to travel underground

(as all leprechauns do) up to Fifth Avenue,

where the street is paved

with red-headed men

and freckle-faced maids

and a St. Patty's parade

is in full swing;

the City a wild shamrock,

lilting with Danny boys and

sweet Kathleens

and people dressed

in every shade of Spring.

 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

New York City

March 17, 1998

Sea Cycle - a poem from the Coast of Tuscany

Sea Cycle

 

 

 

A man rides his bicycle

on the sea;

salt rubs the tires,

sun reflects on the soles

of his shoes

as he pedals

over starfish

and speckled crabs,

under seagulls

and threaded clouds,

past fishermen

and upright bathers -

until the pier,

where he turns left

and follows the sun down

over the horizon.

 

 

 

 

from The Speed of Sight

Colin Goedecke

Forte dei Marmi

October 1997

Klimt in His Garden ~ a poem for Klimt & Krabbe

Klimt in His Garden

        

      for Jasper Krabbé  at his 2007 New York Opening,

      on a painting of the painter Gustav Klimt

 

 

 He moves in a moonlength robe

through an evening green garden

of quietude; with hidden feet

that touch the muted grass and moss;

his figure almost afloat

under the first blooms

faint and soon fragrant

on the branches over his silent head

and soft beard, without thought

of brushes or canvases,

only this moment

savoring the poetry

of a Spring night

in his garden.

 

 

 

© Colin Goedecke

In Chelsea, New York City

March, 2007