an occasional diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers First We Must Be Friends I always aspired to a seasoned heart, to a well-traveled heart. Still I’ve longed too to lie back in the meadow in the lap of a lifelong love. Now I see this seasoned heart travels wherever I do. And first we must be friends.
a sporadic diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers On the Braided River Up ramp I join this braided river, its woven flow, currents and snags. Off right freeway bank Mountains rise snow-robed. Ahead deep pink in great daubs across a lowering blue horizon. Souls by the millions for miles upon miles by wordless agreements carve [...]
a sporadic diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers In a Honeyed Light Over each moment hangs a shadow, because The only oath life keeps is death. Yet each moment is bathed In a honeyed light, because this alive moment only is real.
a sporadic diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers In a Black Quartz Sky Night rain drops sweet-cold on eyebrows and cheeks. Rivulets blur my glasses As I walk to the car, folded umbrella tucked under my arm, Streetlights on blacktop street a flare of diamonds in a black quartz sky.
I was working the Sunset Strip that night. I pulled my cab over to the curb in front of the Rainbow, or Gazzari’s, or the Coconut Teaser. It was a Friday or a Saturday night in early 1987—a long time ago. There are some things I remember, and some things I don’t. I remember her. She [...]
Wondering how long it will take me to stop writing 2010 and then having to delete and correct with 2011. So far I’ve made this mistake four weeks and counting. Sad. How are you all doing with this? Other than that, let’s get into my notes re this week at Fierce and Nerdy. 1. Missy’s [...]
Yes, it’s only from a box. But the classic, Kraft Dinner-style, bright, nearly radioactive orange mac ‘n’ cheese is a sensual treasure and a deep comfort. Properly prepared, it’s a fallen beauty elevated anew in this cardboard modern world—a redemption of the cheap and commercial. First you boil the water, until the lid of the pot clatters [...]
a sporadic diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers Everyone’s Trying to Do Their Best Walking round Silverlake Reservoir, norm seems to be little to no eye contact. So I can watch each runner, walker, in solitary concentration; young, old; worried, determined, Grooving to earphones. I can see it so clearly: Everyone’s just trying to do their [...]
a sporadic diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers What’s Breaking All week long I’ve felt like something was broken or breaking. Only this morning did I realize: What’s breaking is my heart.
a sporadic diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers I Always Liked the Sad Songs As a kid I yearned forward to earning my own scars of the adventuring heart, My heartaches and hard-won wisdom. Now down my long rocky road looking back I find it’s gotten hard to listen to those old sad songs.
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