Sunday, July 26, 2015


Gentle Reader,

What you’ll find below is an upside-down anthology of sorts: a journal of my frequent morning musings from January 2008 till now, in reverse order.

Much of what I write here is verse in traditional rhymed iambic pentameters, old fashioned in form but contemporary in topics and idiom. It asks to be read aloud so that the effects of rhyme and meter may be felt.

Sometimes I write brief prose essays, but even my verses are essays, or attempts, pursuing a line of thought to some conclusion, though more sonorously than those in prose: discursive verses, I call them.

In either case, you’re the reader over my shoulder as I write, which makes my writing different than when I have no audience in mind but only a vague urge to express. So I thank you for whatever attention you give my words and thoughts and feelings because you might so easily attend to something else, and you soon will.

To beguile you to linger longer, though, I’ve coupled most of my compositions with a photo or image I’ve taken or borrowed, which often corresponds with my words of that day.

Thank you for visiting here.  I hope you enjoy your stay and are moved to come back soon.

—Alan Nordstrom

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                    Walking with dogs, I learn another way
                    Of picking out a path as we proceed,
                    Not as I do or somewhere I can say,
                    But rather simply letting noses lead:

                    It’s nosegation that maps out our course,
                    Not following fixed routes but vagrant scents
                    And tracing them to their elusive source,
                    A canny kind of canine recompense.


Saturday, July 25, 2015


                    Why did the classic poets all confine
                    Themselves to rhyme and meter, line by line,
                     Whereas today the manner’s to be free                    
                    Of such restraints, now thought absurdity?                     
                    What “free-verse” poets do not understand                   
                    Is how exigencies one never planned                     
                    Provoke spontaneously new lines of thought                    
                    Revealing what one didn’t know one sought.                     
                    Relinquishing the motive of control                     
                    Aimed at some set premeditated goal—                    
                    But rather open to the vagaries                    
                    Of mind, compelled by the exigencies                    
                    Of rhyme, one finds an unexpected place                     
                    By what, when fortunately blessed, seems grace.


Friday, July 24, 2015


                    Some esoteric souls proclaim today
                    The Singularity is drawing nigh,
                    An intellectual event they say
                    That changes everything beneath the sky.

                    We humans then will have attained the power
                    To modify and to manipulate
                    The world, making old Mother Nature cower,
                    Becoming the architects of Earth’s own fate.

                    If this be so, it’s we whom we must change,
                    For as we are we’ve always been a threat,
                    Wayward and haphazard as we range,
                    Committing errors we afterward regret.

                         The single object that we must devise
                         Is how we’ll be when we have grown wise.


Thursday, July 23, 2015


(take two)

                    A more important word than love is care:
                    An act to do, not feelings to declare,
                    For feelings are but sentiments inside,
                    While care is how true loving is applied.

                    Such love in action we call charity:
                    Both words and deeds expressed in parity
                    For love is more than merely sentiment
                    But careful acts with generous intent.


Wednesday, July 22, 2015



                         A more important word than love is care,
                         Implying active steps you take to serve
                         Than just a sentiment you might declare,
                         But heartfelt charity one can observe.


                         Caregivers and caretakers are the same,
                         A paradox of terminology;
                         Though opposites ostensibly, their aim’s
                         Identical: relieving malady.