by Richard Subber | Dec 7, 2024 | Human Nature, Reflections, Tidbits
roosters know much…
An anonymous and potentially wise person said:
“The older I get, the more I understand
why roosters just scream to start their day.”
…and one of my top favorite authors says she’s learned from others about the merits of this quick morning prayer:
“Whatever!”
I used to recite this one when I rolled out of bed:
“It’s show time!”
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Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2024 All rights reserved.
Book review: The Sea Runners
…it informs, but it does not soar…
by Ivan Doig
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My first name was rain: A dreamery of poems with 53 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
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by Richard Subber | Dec 5, 2024 | Memoir, My poetry, Poetry, Reflections
a good glove gets old…
Whack!
Funny how it still fits my hand
after so many years,
I remember the stitching
and the thick pad at my palm.
It’s a “Rickey Henderson” glove,
I forgot the name.
The thing is,
a good glove gets old
but it’s still good,
the whack of a line drive
in the pocket
still sounds big,
you whack your hand
into the pocket
ten thousand times,
and the last one
still feels good,
and when my son,
a man now,
says “Dad, here’s your glove,”
he means:
“Here’s the glove
you let me use
a couple times
instead of my kid glove,
I always wanted
to have this glove,
and now I do,
but you can use it
for a while…
it’s still yours.”
August 17, 2024
your grandson probably can throw better than you…
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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2024 All rights reserved.
Old Friends (book review)
Tracy Kidder tells truth about old age…
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My first name was rain: A dreamery of poems with 53 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
Your comments are welcome—tell me what you’re thinking.
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by Richard Subber | Dec 3, 2024 | Book reviews, Books, Human Nature, Joys of reading, My poetry, Poetry, Reflections, Theater and play reviews
unforgettable…
Movie review and book review:
Atonement
Atonement is a story of lives of irredeemable sadness. Ian McEwan wrote the book that is faithfully portrayed in this 2007 film (rated R, 123 minutes)—it got seven Oscar nominations—starring Keira Knightley (Cecilia), James McAvoy (Robbie), Romola Garai (child Briony), Saoirse Ronan (18-year-old Briony), and Vanessa Redgrave (mature Briony).
In brief: Briony, a child, tells a dreadful lie about her sister’s lover, forcing Cecilia and Robbie to live separate, desperately tormented lives during World War II.
This poem is my “Thumbs Up” review of the movie and the book.
Unforgettable
This memory is lava hot,
it mingles, lava slow,
in all my thoughts,
in all my mind.
It is a crumble, peat, dark,
peat rich, no single whole,
but bits of all.
I cannot grasp it entire.
It fills me,
it is full of me,
full with my dread imaginings,
full with my discarded dreams,
so full…
It burns, it sears,
a red haze in my every gaze,
a scarlet shackle on each heartbeat.
I accept the impotence of atonement.
My long-ago childish deed cannot be undone,
that indulgence in excitement
and attention and novelty
and vengeance and purest love.
Unbidden, I saw an act I didn’t understand,
two lovers, I cherished them,
their coupling had no inner meaning for me,
yet showed they had more love for each other
than each for me…
Later, a twisted crime he did not—could not—commit,
yet I accused—“I saw him”—I lied,
to hurt him and to keep her, apart, for me.
That lie broke them.
At that moment, the words tasted brave
and older than my years.
The taste became gall.
Later, I was to know that I killed them.
My life has been my penance.
Now I understand what I could not see
and could not then feel.
Now I feel their horror that I invented
in place of their happiness.
Now I endure the unhappiness
they could not escape,
the terror born of a child’s simple plan
in a child’s heart.
…I keep those false words—“I saw him”—
spoken in righteous innocence,
in unknowable ignorance,
in unremembered pleasure…
I did not know I was trading my portion of happiness
for a memory that I keep
in a hole in my heart.
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Movie review. Book review. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2024 All rights reserved.
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In other words: Poems for your eyes and ears with 64 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
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by Richard Subber | Nov 23, 2024 | My poetry, Poetry, Reflections
who’s watching whom…
Exit
I lingered after light sleep,
the empty snowbound afternoon was my prospect,
a warming wrap was my comfort,
no urge disturbed my rest,
the necessity of loneliness pinched my gaze…
I think the fox had been watching me
in my windowed bay,
I think she had one snuff of fear,
I think she paused, on the crusted snow,
and found no scent of interest,
I think she may have wondered
how I could feel at ease
in my tight world…
I raised one hand in greeting and adieu,
and she took her own royal time
in walking away on her grand stage.
November 8, 2018
Inspired by “Closer” by Roberta Marggraff in the Fall/Winter 2018-2019 issue of the Aurorean.
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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2024 All rights reserved.
Book review: The Scarlet Letter
the beating hearts…by Nathaniel Hawthorne
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In other words: Poems for your eyes and ears with 64 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
Your comments are welcome—tell me what you’re thinking.
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by Richard Subber | Nov 23, 2024 | Book reviews, Books, Poetry, Reviews of other poets
Teasdale teases…
Book review:
The Collected Poems of Sara Teasdale
by Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
New York: The Macmillan Co., 1937.
311 pages
Sara Teasdale wrote about 350 poems, and some of them are quite long.
She is literate—no doubt about that, there are plenty of classical allusions to the gods.
For my taste, there is no personality in her Collected Poems—she writes “about” stuff instead of illuminating stuff.
In 1918 she won a Pulitzer Prize for poetry—it must have been a lean year.
There are bright notes here and there:
“Ah, Love, there is no fleeing from thy might,
No lonely place where thou hast never trod,
No desert thou hast left uncarpeted.”
from “Sappho,” p. 109
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Book review. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2024 All rights reserved.
Book review: To Serve Them All My Days
by R. F. Delderfield
A beloved teacher,
you know this story…
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Above all: Poems of dawn and more with 73 free verse poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
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