Mr. Thaumaturge

(a performer of miracles or magic)

He lost his job three years ago,

not the kind where you get unemployment,

it wasn’t that kind of white collar

or blue collar job. Something less

than all that. But he made it work.

Too young for social security,

and medicare, too old to start again.

He’s got some food in the cupboard.

At least he paid off his house

when times were rolling

instead of caving in.

Every day he hugs his wife,

throws the ball for Benji

and watches the trees

to see what they’ll do.

© Julie Eger 2-23-12

http://www.bigfoto.com/miscellaneous/photos-23/couple-6a0m.jpg

Another Chance

 

winter wind

snow drifts

clean slate

 

© Julie Eger 2-20-12

http://www.hickerphoto.com/images/1024/snow_wind_drift_t1998.jpg

Shine a Light Into the Night

 

 

 

 

 

The principal (spelled with pal because he’s your pal)

paces back and forth in front of his desk thrusting

his admonishments at you. “You must have math

in your life to pierce the darkness of the unknown

that lies ahead of you. Math will keep you from

becoming a common prostitute. Math is the one thing

that will shine a beacon of light upon your dismal future.”

To his dismay, I choose words instead –

to shine a beacon of light upon my dismal future.

Julie Eger © 2-17-2012

http://www.bigfoto.com/miscellaneous/photos-06/candle-zle8.jpg

I’m all in one place now!

I had been using Blogger to satisfy my need to blog, and was busy creating all kinds of crazy stuff as I practiced what this blogging stuff was all about. I’m not even sure anymore how many blogs I may have created because I can’t sign in because I didn’t accept Blog Spot’s new policies so I have moved, and I might add happily moved, to Word Press. I hope you find some good stuff here by clicking on the tabs above the header picture. I have poetry, The Original Voice and my work page here now. Feel free to browse and also join in following any new posts by adding your email as a subscription to this page. It’s over there, in the column to your left. I’ll see ‘ya around!

Julie

Gone too long…

Gone too long...

A Haiku

Eighth Graders

Honeysuckle blooms

while the catalpa tree strains

to develop buds.

Julie Eger © 2011

Another Jenny Lane Poem…

 

You’ve Got to Watch What You Buy

Down at the Old Country Store

Most items have expired,

you’ve got to check the dates

on the cans of vegetables

and the meat, especially the meat,

or anything else you might sink your teeth into.

Like what Arbutus said about Emil Pederson

running off with that girl from the power company,

Andy Evers, he bought that.

And Junie Jaskelienen, she bought what

Harvey Laanka said about me and Dingo.

He thought Dingo was my boyfriend

but Dingo is a dog.

You’ve got to watch what you buy

down at the old country store.

Jenny Lane 2011

Poem out of nowhere…

Life’s a Peach

If I had the chance

to come back from the dead

I would come back

for a Colorado peach –

for the first bite

with juice running down my wrists

biting until it’s gone – and then

I would take a hammer,

break open the pit

and plant the seed.

J. Eger March 2011

Poem from a friend…

The prompt:

Answer this – I am from…

I Am From Blue Eyes

I am from old women with whiskers

and cats drinking from bowls,

bow-legged men in red johnnies

with the flaps open in back,

just a crack.

I am from whiskey and scotch poured in ice-filled mugs

and cook stoves and kindling and kerosene lamps

and braided rugs laid down in the middle of rooms

and rocking chairs.

I am from stew and potatoes and cabbage

turnips and carrots and bread rising on stoves

and sharp knives and pistols and open windows

in winter.

I am from an old photograph that hangs

on the wall. Of Grandma because I

have her blue eyes.

Her blue eyes.

Jenny Lane Jan. 27, 2011

Reward for Missing Muse…

At first I thought a lady

took my muse

away in her suitcase

when she came to pick apples.

Then I thought the mailman or UPS guy

took it by mistake.

But I’m pretty sure it was one of the bill collectors

from the insurance company or those medical people.

Whatever happened, my muse has disappeared,

and I am offering the reward of at least 10 adjectives

to get her back!

J. Eger 1-12-11