Yakima Bonsai Society's Annual Show, 2014
Yakima Bonsai Society's Annual Show at the Yakima, Arboretum, with interviews of some of the members, and photos of the trees on display.
HAND CARRY THE SWEET GUM TREE
CARRYING GRANDPA GUM
He had tried air layering
and failed. He tried it twice
in fact, in successive years
when sap was running.
And he tried the same thing
on the Sweet Gum
in his son-in-law’s yard.
Same results.
Then, in the final mowing,
before turning the keys
to the house
over to new owners,
he saw the tiny tree
coming up from old roots
at the tree’s base.
He had his jack knife
in his pocket,
and he cut it out,
cradling the genetic code
leafing out in his cupped hands.
Jim Bodeen
7 June 2014
AMERICA
RUN-AND-GUN
This used to be about basketball.
America,
You are a gun-running member of the NRA.
Jim Bodeen
25 May--6 June, 2014
Welcome to Lectio Divina
All ways God.
God all ways.
God-grateful.
Here and here.
Being here and trying here.
Trying to be here.
Practicing.
Practicing the practice.
This.
The practice.
The practice and the trying and the gratefulness.
Practicing that. And all that. Grateful.
Grateful, too. For all, for you. For you all.
For all you.
That.
The practice and the fast.
That fast.
Fasting.
The fast that I choose.
The fast that chooses.
Choosing many tables.
Choice in many tables.
All ways and always God.
God-grateful. Grateful for all. For you, all.
For you.
Here and here.
And hear.
Being here and trying to be here.
Practicing.
The fast that I choose and try to choose.
The fast that chooses.
This fast.
This.
Jim Bodeen
1 June--30 June 2014
AFTERNOON LECTIO
Those instructions for resting.
I set them here, somewhere.
The monk who got me here
says not to worry. Better
than my practice now,
this orientation
to the new day.
Branches grow towards the light.
Branches
don’t grow towards the darkness.
Take them out.
Either way,
scissors or eye.
Jim Bodeen
23 June 2014
OH LORD
When the temple
became a work house
the way of this way
came to me
in pieces
Sitting beside my wife
I ran my finger
over my dry lips
Jim Bodeen
8 June 2014
LOOKING AT LITTLE TREES
Just to hear it.
To hear the words.
To hear the words
without purpose
without any way
of knowing.
Jim Bodeen
7 June 2014
DAD WOULD HAVE BEEN 93
With increased vigor
surrounded by David’s psalms
let aging commence
Jim Bodeen
7 June 2014
ANOTHER IMAGE FROM THE HUBBLE TELESCOPE
We have mis-used the name
in our dancing
Whose arms hold me
does not matter
star born from
Born-Of-Stars
Jim Bodeen
7 June 2014
NO SAID
A way of knowing, and of being known.
A way before anything is said.
A North Dakota way.
Without any said.
That.
And more time with that.
Jim Bodeen
6 June 2014
WELCOME TO LECTIO DIVINA
The same thing
over and over
over and over
like a song, like the song
that just now
came into me
came into me
just now
part of me
not even mine
but me
More, and less, me
More and less
Just pray all the time
Just pray
more and less
all the time
Jim Bodeen
4 June 2014
BIG WAVING FLAG FELLOW
FLYING FLAGS ON EVERY LAWN
There you are big fellow, waving
There you are on the eye of everywhere
You are, in-deed, the seventh son of the seventh son
crashing on the sands of freedom’s laughter,
big wave of big wave,
big wave of big wave,
wave for me, in-difference,
on this day of day
from the trunks of rusting cars,
a yellow ribbon of de-nial
rusting before me at the stop light,
stopping light in lust-light,
you have done your thing, no-thing,
your driver cannot see where he has placed you,
thanking you for your frozen ripple,
your crossed silk-painted
thank you for your service
buying him time for non-reflection,
thank you again,
you are the acidification of the oceans,
you are the acidification of the oceans,
thanking you like that over and frozen over,
thanking you for your service.
Jim Bodeen
25 May 2014
No Blueberries For My Morning Grape Nuts!
READING THOMAS KEATING THINKING
OF MY WIFE, DURING THE LATE ANTHROPOCENE AGE
IN WHICH WE LIVE
EVEN BEFORE IT IS NAMED
“…one should give the situation a quiet welcome.”
—The History
of Contemplative Prayer, Thomas Keating
Waking early, my practice,
I brew two cups of Arabica beans,
grinding them myself, filling the kitchen
with smells of rich volcanic soil from El Salvador.
I pour myself a bowl of Grape Nuts,
fresh and crunchy enough between the teeth,
even my grandson favors them.
My friends have heard. They know me
by the way I praise American cereal.
Blueberries, a big fistful each morning
over the top of Grape Nuts. Blueberries,
cousin of the North Dakota Juneberry,
ridding my body of toxins, daily.
But this morning I remember
the last of them
mixed with yogurt for last night’s dessert.
My wife doesn’t need blueberries.
I need them. I always eat blueberries.
My wife doesn’t need interior prayer,
she is one. Frozen blueberries
over Grape Nuts. Early. That simple.
A big handful. Fat-free milk
turned pastel blue during their consumption.
How could I have been so careless?
No stains on my unstained hands.
No blues to lick from my fingers.
Sweet milk shared with my old retriever gone sour.
Quiet time itself gone surly.
No sacred word this morning.
Poetry in free fall.
Deep silence fills with noise.
Empty bowl self-served.
Jim Bodeen
24 May 2014
TWICE TODAY
God has left me.
Twice.
Desolate, I picked weeds
from rocks
by the side of the road.
No dummy, me.
I said to myself,
Leave some of these
for later.
He’ll leave me again.
He will.
Jim Bodeen
23 May 2014
Kate's Worm Studies with credits (+playlist)
Kate, the grandaughter's in second grade. She comes to Grandpa's with her project on worms finished and illustrated. Looks just like Grandpa's worms. "Want to make a movie?" Her sister Dheezus is here. "Red wigglers," Suzanne Tarr says, "little miracle workers."
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