Travel taught me one precious thing,
There is always better Elsewhere,
You love your village, visit the Tyrol,
You love Cathy, Sue has more beautiful blue eyes,
My travels taught me to change buses often,
You’ve seen Paris, go see the bayous of New Orleans,
You have gently cultivated your garden, go help the little children
From Burkina Faso,
My travels taught me something,
There is always better elsewhere,
You read James Joyce, go discover Jack London in San Francisco,
You enjoyed Chenonceau, go discover Schönbrunn Palace,
You saw the Big Dipper, go see Cassiopeia, travel again,
You reread Rimbaud, go see the Grand Canyon,
My travels taught me this precious thing,
There is always better elsewhere,
It is since travelling far away, that I learnt what really matters.
I seek. Like a mystical sailor,
I seek in the infinite corridors,
Of Rudolf Samoylovich, navy blue,
I seek in the peace of travels,
I search without digging the blue nights,
I seek with my hands, in disgrace,
I seek with the power of polar bears,
Without believing I see, without seeing what I see.
I seek. Like a mystical sailor,
Like Jack London, in full or empty cabins,
On the cold ice of the Rudolf Samoylovich,
What am I looking for? New inspirations.
PS, Rudolf Samoylovich, is an enormous ship in the harbor, i stop by, everyday
I love so much the book company,
More than anything in the world,
More than cats or butterflies,
Looking at the books in my room, soothe me,
Henry James amazes me, what intelligence,
Yachar Kemal makes me travel on Turkish roads
The pleasure of writing, of thinking, they offered that to me,
Books calm me more than anything,
Carl Sandburg, Billy Collins, Thucydides,
They are landscapes, angels from heaven,
Jean Giono amazes me; I go with him to Manosque,
My library offers me so many joys, Apollinaire, Sam Shepard,,
Just looking at books makes me dream,
I’m thinking about Jack London, I’ve read everything,
He made history, so humanly, such humility,
I think of Marcel Proust, a genius,
Style makes the man, especially à l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs
I love so much the book company,
Camus, Alejo Carpentier makes me intelligent, so to speak,
They understood me, every word, every story, every verb,
Books understand me
More than people, Kafka, Faulkner, Joyce, understand us,
They reassure me with their titles, their presences,
What would we be without books?
Thank them; look at them, life is short,
They are the best friends in the world.
*Image of Earth Network by Pixabay.
Quote by Jack London
Keola - Dizain
LIFE, an involved existence that we share
with species, that also, IS NOT inert.
A frail MATTER, like that OF chinaware,
HOLDING its own with GOOD wills and avert
all ills, although some are fixed, they exert
their fair place. We are plastic CARDS on bought
time, BUT draw of mixed classes SOMETIMES caught
PLAYING the odds -- exist or extinction.
Strengths help better than having A POOR shot.
Life's HAND dealt WELL ... preface de-extinction.
2021 December 16
*Rhyming Scheme: ababbccdcd
Black Wolf's brothers move
Always follow a safe guide
Trust in a strong leader for life
Just seek survival with pride
Now see more human greed
More dangers, no place to hide
Pollution rots where wolves feed
The ghost of Jack London tried
To repair the wolf's plight
Then cried
In youth I learned to jump
First off steps, then rooftops
Spirit of adventure
Nurtured in the heart of a child
Preschool acrobat twirling on my head
Grandma swatted my bottom
Repeated words like Tomboy
Never learned to be ladylike
Catholic school discipline
Uniforms, religion classes, daily mass
Never satisfied with any accomplishment
Even the nuns called me “perfectionist”
Blessed with storytellers in my family
Dad and sis would send me to dreamland
On the wings of a unicorn
Or Shakespeare’s amazing plays
Family and friends I hold dear
Each has influenced my thinking
I learned to offer support in troubled times
And to thank God every day for special people
Unable to have children
The most crushing blow
Accepted at a young age
But rued for a lifetime
Lover of Jack London, John Steinbeck
From Jack, I found adventure
From John, I learned compassion
Dickinson’s poetry touched my heart
If I can find a way
To make a friend feel joy
Then this is my mission
Comforter, nurturer
November 16, 2020
For Silent One’s “It's a part of me - Life and the perceptions and philosophies you hold Poetry Contest.”
In "Martin Eden" Jack London wrote"At the instant he knew he ceased to know"
I ask you - do you agree with that?
It is a powerful line even if you realize
that you can "know" before you die
Health and happiness to all readers of these words
Woodle's sidekick Noodle
Bought a cab in the oodle
He fell on the ditch
Hey that was a glitch
The whole kit an' caboodle
"The whole kit an' caboodle" taken from The Valley of the Moon by Jack London
Woodle/Limerick Copyright © Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 11/18/2014
Cold, so cold
The weather today
reminds me
of a Jack London
yarn
Bitter winds
blow from the north
It is nice to arrive
at a warm place
in such weather
A cup of tea or coco
warms up
those who have dared to
venture outside
Nightfall over the asphalt
homeland
The cold spell continues
Frail creations that we are
We must protect ourselves
from the climate
We are on the solar boat
but we are not the captain
of this ship
That is in hands
other than our own
Greed overtakes any prospector looking for gold.
Here I am above the Arctic Circle braving the cold.
The bitter freezing is enough to kill anyone young or old.
The river flows under a very thick sheet of ice.
Temperatures at fifty degrees below zero are not nice.
It is late morning, and the sky is a crepuscular gray.
That golden orb called the “sun” has gone away.
I won’t see it again for weeks as it is below the horizon.
That big husky dog with me is much like his timber wolf cousin.
To keep warm, chewing tobacco is of no use.
Anyone can grow a beard from frozen tobacco juice.
It is unlikely the subzero temperatures will get any higher.
Until I get back to camp, I will just have to build a fire.
Based on the short story “To Build a Fire” by the late Jack London
One day
A stranger came up to me
Speaking in riddles
He said:
Inspiration incites the inscence within that incarnates indigo indians.
I did not know what he ment until he followed up with:
"You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club."
- Jack London
I then
realized
what he was
talking about.
Do you?
When the wicked
winter storms hit
New York City(and they are indeed wicked)
I head out to shovel snow
The wind - blown snow and the cold
makes me feel as
if I was in a Jack London tale
He wrote of the
wild
He showed us how to survive
the elements
He ran for mayor three times
Yesterday I saw one of hi books on sale
that I have never read
I'll probably pick it up
He told his story in writing
Now poets - tell yours!
the blue jays waited
on the camp bench this afternoon
for you to feed them,
you ignoring me
cost them too,
they wept all day through.
we came to Yosemite
for you
to find resolution
was it in an alleyway
or the Blue Onyx Bar?
did the sun, while feasting
on your skin
devour the last of us as well?
this moveable target
blazing the whiskey sky,
seduced my loneliness
following me
to Jack London Square
taunting me of you
As well…
my hair is singed
from lying in your sun
i am tired of lying next to you
engineering the corpses tan,
i am far better
a pale man
this world of your unknown
strangers smile
approving glance
a night remembered twice to come,
sending you to the other side of the bed;
whatever keeps you there
time finding ways to expand
diluting my reflection
make me more
leaving with less
fortifying with a smile
this journey back
is longer than
the forward run