Three nights of Blue Moon
Wonder waking blood teeming
open tenderness
Jim Bodeen
31 August 2023
Chiles en nogada -- La Fiesta
Anuciando el primer año
La Fiesta Chiles en Nogada
Sabado 26 Agosto 2023
La Casa de Jim y Karen
Yakima,
Gloria me preguntó,
¿Jim, cual es su comida Mexicana favorita?
¿Plato favorito? No sé.
Todos me encantan. OK, OK--Gloria--
Chiles en nogada.
Un día despúes, durmiendo, soñando, pensando…
¡Aha! No hay comida favorita para nadie!
¡Toda depende en la cocinera!
Traigan su receta o plato más conocido con su nombre en su familia
a las cuatro de la tarde—4 pm—Sabado/Saturday—26 Agosto 2023
Celebramos la comida y nosotros/as—¡con gusto!
Karen y Jim Bodeen
Pueden traer bebidas tradicionales también, pero no alcohol, por favor
0245 HOURS HAIKU
0245 HOURS HAIKU
After-love waking
Wonder worry about one
Broken Mountain leg
●
Pleasures of morning
Strawberry jam on wheat toast
Parker T-ball pens
Jim Bodeen
25 August 2023
THE BOY IN THE BLUE SHORTS
THE BOY IN THE BLUE SHORTS
spreads out on the back of the boat
playing with toy trucks in front of us.
His mother sits with him, watching,
but also paying attention to the movement
of the vehicles. The boy, maybe 4,
also in blue shirt, and a blue and black
baseball cap. He’s laid out, now, legs
splayed, while his mother sits cross-
legged. There’s a yellow school bus
and fire truck, a dragon and a cement
truck. One green dump truck and
a red SUV, park off to the side.
The boy’s t-shirt reads, Land O’ Frost,
Great Tasting Lunch Meat. The logo
on his hat shows it’s from a Seattle
Mariner’s gift-night game, with
a large letter S. There’s no ambulance,
but the firemen know CPR, can
double-up as medics. The boy’s
shoes are green Sketchers, popular
for all ages. His socks, green
and yellow. Right now, he’s
holding up the blue car, a sedan,
to his open mouth. He might
be stopping for lunch, or
he might be driving through.
He’s good enough to go either way.
This poem should end right here,
but you just can’t stop
a boy on a boat. He parks
that blue car, and he’s back
on the bus, and he’s driving.
No, not so. The dragon is climbing
the fire truck’s extended ladder.
Mom is behind the bus.
Is the dinosaur Tyrannus Rex?
I don’t know again. He’s big,
and his tail’s as long
as the hook and ladder.
I used to know important things.
I count 13, no, 14 vehicles.
I’m counting, trying to get the count
right. None of them are parked.
Everything is in motion,
everything. It’s all moving.
Everything’s in play.
Everything.
The whole world.
Jim Bodeen
On board Lady of the Lake
5 August 2023
CRUZANDO AGUA CON INMIGRANTES
CRUZANDO AGUA CON INMIGRANTES
A LA JARDÍN ALDEA EN LAS CORDILLERAS
--Donde las vidas de los hombres arden
Jorge Luis Borges
Crossing water with immigrants
to the garden village in the mountains,
three young men (just out of high school?),
sit on the back of the boat in open air, facing
the immigrant community we’re traveling
with, obscuring our view of the shoreline.
Everyone, even the young men on the boat,
are getting away from it all. I watch
for a while, while awareness asks me
to address the obstruction. I don’t
know how to say this with all there is
to see...and this is enough, the one coming
forth, I get it, he says, quietly addressing
his companions. This beautiful
beginning. Karen and I wear our
yellow t-shirts, AbriendoCaminos 2023.
We’ve been accompanying Latinos
making community for a long time.
How we become each other.
On the backs of these shirts,
Ustedes son la sal de la tierra.
The notebook is a prayer to forgotten worship.
We’re a group of 28 this year, small,
coming out of Covid. Some years
we’ve been over 200. Karen and Luz
made the t-shirts. Our role ceremonial
now that we’re older.
The boat ride crossing Lake Chelan
takes three and a half hours.
What comes up crossing water comes up on its own.
Para salir a la superficie puede ser liberación y peligro
Y por eso cruzamos el agua para las montañas
Todo que es pesada caída cruzando agua.
The heaviness in the deepest lake descends in dark waters
We make one stop on the way to the lake.
Karen packed her support socks in her suitcase.
Maintain circulation and remember your practice.
Karen is one with the ancestors.
The stop costs us eight minutes.
We’re not racing to meet the boat this time.
We’ve seen it leave us behind.
Out back in sunshine, Lady of the Lake
carries us through glacial waters.
Karen says, I wasn’t prepared for the heat.
I have lotion in my mochila
and rub it on her arms and back.
We didn’t think we could make this trip.
A half century crossing this lake.
Karen descending on foot
when the bus broke down
before delivering twin daughters.
Stroke and fall.
Come to El Salvador, Medardo says,
You’ll write the best poems of your life.
Diana and Francisco in diapers.
The abrecaminos travel from Sacramento.
The abrecaminos from Wapato, La Casa Hogar.
They took us in. This garden
grand enough, centers
in songlines, east of nothing.
A mother and her son before us
on the deck play with toy trucks.
Jim Bodeen
6 August 2023
Dark mountain waking
Dark mountain waking
Walk out from room eleven
honoring the night
Jim Bodeen
8 August 20223
LIFE-WORK
LIFE-WORK
Nothing with life’s work
No.
Life-work belongs
part
of one’s
After-Listening
Jim Bodeen
3 August 2023
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