Except as noted, all images copyrighted by and should be attributed to E B Hawley.
I had become many eons ago a traveling literary gnome, inquisitive about places I had and had not visited,
walking the same paths of peoples from the past, through places once grand and still grand,
photographing images that now show me the places about which I still dream . . .

Friday, April 15, 2011

Poetry: In Gallipolli, Generation Skipped

 
Gallipolli, May 2008.

In Gallipolli, Generation Skipped

He washed his feet as I entered the cemetery
having put his jacket on the bench nearby
and his hat placed gently on the arm rest.
He turned the faucet to release more water
then looked up at me as I walked past him.
I looked away up the hill at the monument
to the Fifty-seventh Regiment whose soldiers
laid before me resting in peace under rows
of marble stones showing their hallowed names.
I sat on the edge of one of the rows of graves
framed by lovingly-tended flowers and roses.
These graves of Turks were as tenderly cared for
as the graves fo the Johnnies near the Lone Pine
looking lonesome as the man who now finished
put on his shoes, his jacket, his hat, and knelt
next to me with his palms raised toward God
and wept, our tears falling down our cheeks.
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Let Lovely Turn of Phrase Begin

JMHawley Gave Me a Kiss to Build a Dream On

Listen, will you? I think that . . . literature, poetry, music and love make the world go round . . . while mathematics explains things; I fill my life with them, then go walking in snowy woods.
Let us go then, you and I
like two etherized patients floating
through life, together feeling prufrockian.
DDB Jr. makes my world go 'round; during his absence, Pachelbel fills it up.
One summer I sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, then through the Gulf of Finland to reach Saint Petersburg; I pursued Joseph Brodsky in its alley ways. I dream of making that two summers.
I read “Biking to Electra;” found my way in a Jaguar car, and glanced at the flashing steel grasshoppers at sunset. I’ll follow K.O.P.’s footsteps after he followed N.Scott Momaday’s; find warmth and inspiration on a rainy mountain.
Throw chinese coins for the I Ching.
Save the whales, the spotted owl, the woman in toil.
Cast a fly for trout; my memories of fly fishing under the sunny blue Colorado sky remain; I yearn to build more . . . with more trophy Browns.
Listen for the swan’s calls on the Baltic Sea. Feel KKII's joy, his arms spread wide in Yazilikaya.
Good night, Jimmy Durante, where ever you are.