A Poem a Day

I resolved last November to write a poem a day for at least the next month.
Here in reverse order are those poems, which reflect my job in Advertising Features, my running and my life:


At the Ichiban, the Last Sushi

Joshi kept the little sushi,
didn’t care if it got mushy.
He wrapped it up
and took it home,
so sushi wouldn’t
be alone.

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Politics

New Year’s Eve in Rochester
at “Charlie Wilson’s War”.
Full house and disbelief.
Woman, seat behind:
“We haven’t heard
of that before.”
$3.5 billion to help Afghans,
mujahideen and Pakistan,
That’s what covert operations
are for.

--

My Mother likes Jos. Louis

My mother likes Jos. Louis,
carrot cake and Twinkies too.
She smiles as she eats
her ice-cream
and offers some to you.
Six months ago
in hospital
she couldn’t even move.
The doctor scheduled surgery
to put in a feeding tube.
No, we said, let’s wait,
we’ll see
and now we are amazed.
She’s happy, stronger,
speaking more,
and turns 89 in seven days.

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I Remember Benazir Bhutto

When I heard her speak,
beautiful, well dressed,
so poised and smart,
I was impressed.
‘You can do it all’
was what she said.
‘You can do anything.’
Unless you’re dead.

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Before New Year’s

At the office
on a quiet day
we pounce on work
that comes our way.
An e-mail, yes!
A chore to wake us
from our sleep.
We’re here;
we want to
earn our keep.
--------

Boxing Day Shopping List

Pickles, toothpaste
Mushrooms and more
Pot and tea ball
from the kitchen store.
Peppers and tortillas
for the quesadillas.
Also, there’s a need
for different kinds
of grated cheese.
Pasta (gluten)
and non-gluten.
And three cans
of salmon or tuna.
And if there’s time
for that:
Small or medium yoga pants
and two small saucers
for the plants.

----------

Boxing Day Boo Boo

Run ahead to Bulk Barn
While Naomi waits
in Tim Horton’s line.
Get the cinnamon,
granola, dried blueberries
and salsa
and think that all is fine.
Settle down later
and read the bill,
I’m as bad as Conrad Black.
Bulk Barn charged me
for currants instead
and I didn’t turn around
and go back.

--------
Next time ask

We each picked a dish
- so I picked fish.
When it came,
we said ‘What’s this?’
‘It’s pork,’ the server replied.
‘Of course, the fish and bean curd dish
has lots of pork inside.’

---------

Christmas Day

Children sledding
on Mooney’s Bay Hill.
Sand bags tied around
all trees bases.
Helmets frame
the happy faces.

A propos, Naomi comments,
‘old-fashioned sledders
on Tim Horton’s cups
are now wearing helmets.’

-----------

Bus of Life

Christmas Eve bus to work
and I’m back on the bus
to Saffer Advertising
up Bathurst to Wilson,
the end of Toronto,
at 21 the beginning
of my working life.
Can’t see out the window
Can’t see the path ahead
Until I’m back on the bus
at 60 plus.
------

Little Tin Soldiers

Party small talk on the couch.
He’s in Marketing
for an engineering company.
Used to be in sales.

Question following ‘what do you do?’
is ‘what do you like?’
His eyes light up.
He has hundreds of
little tin soldiers
and books on Napoleon.
-------

No Poem for You

In lieu of
the cost of
paper and ink
for this poem
I’ve made a
donation instead
to a charity of
my choice.
Hope you like it.

---------

4 P.M. In the News Room

A paper plate
with a piece of cake.
15 Citizen umbrellas.
This is the date.
It’s buy-out time,
good-bye and thanks
for all you’ve done
from all your friends.
Some things begin
and some things end.

--------

Snow Again

He headed out for home
Running very far.
We had the same route to go
‘though we were in the car.
The traffic was so bad
our drive was a horrid strain.
Next time we’ll stop
for supper first.
We won’t do that again.
The runner was
the one who’s smart,
the one with half a brain.
He got home first,
with an energy burst.
It’s driving that’s insane.

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Advertising Department Potluck

Ribs and shrimp
and salsa dip.
Salads of rice
and everything nice.
So much food
you go back twice.
Then the desserts you consume
‘til it hurts -
cookies and mincemeat pie.
A fountain of chocolate
for marshmallows and fruit,
with eggnog standing by.
And the surprise
of the times is this -
men did the cooking of recipes more
than the women
who guiltlessly
went to the store.

-----------

Night skiing at Terry Fox

Nature’s magical miniature
A souvenir snow globe
surrounded by traffic.
A fortress of solitude.
Unique and irreplaceable,
so the City will close it.

----------

Blizzard of 07

Climbers stay in the tent
until the weather clears.
No matter how long it takes.
Be patient.
--------

Bachelor of Arts on a Bus

‘B.As - Bugger All,’
the bus rider scoffed.
‘They aren’t worth a dime.
‘These days you need a Master’s
to do anything, any time.’
‘Ha, ha, that’s right,’
her seatmate agreed.
Quick to concede.
Hiding the trauma
of her Basic-level high school diploma.
Aching to be part
of the world
of the smart.

---------

Partners in misery

It’s easy to feel dumb
Packing clothes, coat and boots
for the 30-minute run.
As I run along Iris
I question why
then laden down
for the change room,
I loudly sigh.
But talking to another
who does this feat
Makes me feel a lot better.
Birds of a feather
flock together.

---------

Pinecrest Creek Ducks

They swim beak to beak
in the unfrozen creek,
While I run by,
cold hands,
cold feet.
If I gave them some food,
they’d just want to stay,
C’mon ducks,
it’s December 13th -
fly away!

------------
Commitment

Dashing through the snow
on a warm but snowy day.
Sidewalks are not plowed,
City doesn’t want to pay.
Run on the street instead,
Dodging cars and spray.
Oh what fun it is
to run
30 minutes every day.
Ho ho ho...

---------

Touting Teamwork

Morning:
Publisher’s Town Hall
talks about ‘teamwork’,
‘ideas over the fence’
between Advertising
and News.
Afternoon:
Al in Printing
gets a fruit basket
from Gilmour.
Gives it to staff
in Desktop Advertising
‘Couldn’t do it
without them.’
----

The Book Sale

Thousands of books
piled high.
Thousands of authors
seeking Citizen reviews.
Ways to happiness.
Ways to weight loss.
All by
Suzanne Sommers.

--------
VIA Sunday 8:51 p.m.

Painted on the concrete wall:
‘greatplacetolive.com’
Cars lined up, headlights on,
exhausts exhaling.
Strings of Christmas lights
dancing in the darkness.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to Bellville.’
Beside me, the policeman
from Mississauga
- ‘actually a detective,’ -
finishes his beer,
closes his Securities textbook
and texts on his cellphone.
He’s retiring next year,
staying tonight at the police college
where he’s taking a course.
‘Tough for police departments these days.
‘Minorities have degrees,
and don’t want to join them.
‘So they’re all white,
and criticized for it.’
He’s never been on a train before.

--------------
Slow Motion

The train starts slowly,
like a treadmill warming up.
Ten minutes later,
the concrete pillars of
the Gardiner Expressway
still loom outside the window.
Unlike the morning train,
no children shriek or sing.
We try to sleep
as cellphones ring.
‘This is she. I’m on the train to Ottawa...’
By Napanee, we pick up speed
through the darkness,
then stop to let of
Nap-a-nee-ers.
Fortunately, not many.
------

Who’s Selling the Ads?

How many ad reps
does it take
to run a big newspaper?
Enough to fill
the Empire Grill
with some at Baxter Road
for later.
---------

Is Spelling Like Shopping?

‘Shop in Canada’
our section blares.
Reader calls
to say he cares.
‘You made me laugh,’
he phoned to say,
‘by spelling ‘neighbour’
the American way.’
--------
Ottawa in Bosnia

Eppo’s in Ethics
but avoids that word
outside, day to day.
‘I’m in ‘conflict of interest’.
They don’t get as excited
that way.’
‘That’s ‘ethics cleansing’,’ I say.

----------

Motivation


100 runs
in 100 days
Yes, I’ll do it.
Commitment pays.
December 1st is
starting time.
So I’m already
two days behind.

--------

Dim sum.
So much fun.

---------

Charles Dickens
Leonard Cohen
Bob Dylan
Paul Simon
Thank you.

-----

Get it right

Weather forecast
full of gloom.
Stay indoors,
ice pellets loom.
Later on
into the night.
A wasted day,
no pellets in sight.

-------

Instant gas fireplace.
James Patterson novel.
White crocheted blanket.
The perfect workout
for minus 26.
Pass the teapot.

------

Trivia Party Game

What’s your secret...
‘At my first race,
I came in last...’
‘There’s a criminal record
in my past...’
‘My favorite color
is chrysanthemum pink...’
My secret is this:
I’m not what you think.

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Stroke Improvement

Hips high
Body roll
Reach forward
Don’t make bubbles.
Why’s it so easy
for a fish with no brain
when learning to swim
drives me insane.

----

Just Show Up

Frozen fingers
Frozen toes
Wind chilled forehead
When it blows.
Snow and ice like
mille-feuilles pastry.
Why I do this
is a mystery.

-----

Winter clothesline

Hall be-decked
with loads of laundry
Towels and tee-shirts
hanging smartly.
Big brown tablecloth
blocks the rail
Swimsuit dripping
on the stair.
On the rack,
some socks by pair
Adding moisture
to the air.

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End of day

Whales up for breath,
my knees rise and fall
circled by lacy continents
of bubble bath
in a lukewarm ocean.
David Suzuki on CBC radio
says ‘don’t give up,
think local.’
My toes wiggle to the surface,
worm-like sea monsters
on the cloud gray tub wall.

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