Saturday, September 11, 2021

Haiku. 詩人は眠れない

 


The night slow and dull

The moon laughing in my face

The crickets stay mute

夜は遅くて鈍い
月が笑ってる
コオロギはミュートされています


The night background noise:
the hair growing on my cheeks
railroad ties plotting
これらは夜の騒音です:
頬の毛が生えている
枕木のつぶやき

The sound of a truck
coughing down the nearby street
on old bald tires
古いハゲのタイヤで近くの通りを足を引きずるトラックの音


The metallic tang
of rain down the spout today
tastes like Brussels sprouts
今日の注ぎ口を下る雨の金属の茎は芽キャベツのような味がします

Friday, September 10, 2021

Haiku. 詩人は恋に落ちる

 


The scent of outdoors

mysteriously pleasant

reminds me of you

アウトドアの香りが不思議なほど心地よく、あなたを思い出させてくれます

Stuck inside all day
the seasons play without me --
the fridge needs cleaning
私が一日中立ち往生しているとき、季節は私なしで流れます-
冷蔵庫は掃除が必要です


One leaf leaves the tree --
is it autumn or a drought?
Or time to leave home?
一枚の葉が木に落ちる

それは秋なのか、それとも干ばつなのか?

それとも家を出る時間ですか?

Thursday, September 9, 2021

Haiku. 不眠症の果実

 


The morning glory

is climbing up the drain pipe

to its destiny

アサガオが排水管を登っています
その運命に


The morning glory
faces the sun with purple
before closing tight
アサガオは太陽に紫色を示し、その後しっかりと閉じます

Winding around 
the stem of a sunflower --
morning glory grip
ひまわりの茎に巻く
アサガオのグリップ






Wednesday, September 8, 2021

Haiku. 老人から

 


The autumn brings doubt

my sickly peonies shrink

will we bloom next spring?

秋は疑いをもたらす
私の病気の牡丹は縮む

来年の春に咲きますか?


With autumn comes doubt
Can I still afford bird seed?
Mangoes taste so sweet
秋になると疑問が生じる
まだ鳥の種を買う余裕はありますか?
マンゴーはとても甘い味がします


With autumn comes doubt
Green tomatoes go mushy
I blame the sunlight
秋になると疑問が生じる
緑のトマトはすべてどろどろになります
日光のせい

Tuesday, September 7, 2021

Haiku. この詩人は真剣に受け止められますか?

 


Shiny red apples

piled up high at the market --

Doctors won't draw near

市場で高く積み上げられた光沢のある赤いリンゴ --
医者は彼らに近づきません

A cold dawn kiss
while scattering bird seed --
my thoughts fly away
夜明けは鳥の餌をまき散らす冷たいキスのようなものです  --
私の心は飛び去る


The summers grow old,

losing all their teeth and voice --

but I will not weep

夏は古くなり、歯と声を失います --
でも泣かない


Peeling hard boiled eggs

for guests this hot afternoon

is work for Buddha

この暑い午後はゲストのために固ゆで卵をはがすのは仏陀のための仕事です

The evening crickets
find a loose patio brick
to their great liking
夕方のコオロギは、ゆるいパティオのレンガがとても快適だと思っています

Monday, September 6, 2021

Learn, you sinners!

  "And as all have not faith, seek ye diligently and teach one another words of wisdom; yea, seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith."

D&C: 88.

The Lord says faith and study go together hand in hand/We are not to isolate and put our head in sand/The world and all its wonders opens to the faithful saint/with wisdom pouring down from God without the least constraint!


Haiku. それほど良くない3つの詩

 


It's not yet autumn --

somewhat mad in the moonlight --

the nights are tepid


まだ秋じゃない  --
私は月明かりの下で少し狂っています --
夜はぬるい


Wrenching the head off --
the sticky sunflower sap
is hard to wash off

ひまわりの頭をこすり落とすと、洗い流しにくい粘り気のある樹液ができます

An old Provo house
is painted brick and woodwork --
wrapped in cottonwoods 

プロボの古い家はレンガと木工品で塗装されています --
ポプラの木に窒息した

Sunday, September 5, 2021

I write my own obituary. Sunday September 5. 2021.

 

Photo taken at Valley Villa Senior Apartments in Provo Utah in July of 2021.



Today is Sunday, September 5. 2021.

It's a quiet Sabbath afternoon here in my apartment; I've just finished serving roast pork and Lima beans for free to a handful of neighbors who saw the sign on my door reading "Free Meal," and also taken the Sacrament in the Valley Villa Community Room  -- our building is one of the few Senior Housing apartment buildings that allows this.

So now the rest of the day looms before me -- an elderly man, divorced and with several chronic health problems that make me a semi-invalid. I don't expect any visitors today -- and I've come to live with that in peace most of the time.  I'm devoting more and more time to the writing of Haiku -- I find this gives me a quiet mind and content spirit better than most anything else; except, of course, a visit from my kids and/or grand kids.

I thought I might as well take a crack at writing my own obit. Of course, it won't be complete -- since I don't know yet what I'll die of, or when. I'm counting on my 7 living children to fill in those final, I hope not-too-gruesome, details.

Let's switch to third-person:


Timothy Robert Torkildson was born on September 11th, 1953, at Saint Mary's Hospital, in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

He had an older half-brother, Leonard, who passed away about ten years ago. He also has an older brother William, who is ten years older than he is, and lives in Princeton, Minnesota.

He has two younger sisters:  Sue Ellen Yund, and Linda Torkildson.

His father, Donald Torkildson, passed away in 1983, and his mother, Evelyn Torkildson (nee Gagne) passed away in 1998. His father worked as a bartender at Aarone's Bar & Grill his entire life. His mother was a homemaker, who was very active with the PTA and as a precinct voting judge. 

He is survived (we hope!) by his former wife, Amy Anderson, and their seven children:  Madelaine, Adam, Stephen, Sarah, Virginia, Edward, and Daisy. Their son Irvin passed away while still only 8 years old.

At the age of 17 Tim left home to attend the Ringling Clown College in Venice Florida. While there he met Tim Holst, who would change his life forever.

Although Tim was not naturally adept at acrobatics, juggling, unicycling, or even putting on a decent clown makeup, he was still offered a contract for $125.00 a week as a new clown, a First of May, with the Greatest Show on Earth, and began rehearsals with the Blue Unit in 1973.  He told others that the only reason he was hired was because at the time he was so very thin he could fit into any show costume without it having to be altered -- which represented a substantial savings to the circus management; they needed dancing fodder for their renowned costumed musical pieces in the show, such as Opening, Manage, Spec, and the Spanish Web.  

At rehearsals in Winter Quarters in Venice Tim became interested in the activities and beliefs of Tim Holst, a returned LDS missionary from Illinois. Holst invited Tim to take the Discussions from the local missionaries -- and on New Year's Day 1973 Tim was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at the local chapel in Sarasota. Despite the many vicissitudes and follies of his life, he cherished his membership in the Church and bore testimony of its truth and light to his children, grand children, and many others over the years. 

He was called to serve a two year mission to the Kingdom of Thailand in 1976; his Mission President, Howard Morris, requested him to bring his clown paraphernalia along to do charity shows for the Thai Red Cross. During his two years of service in Thailand he performed several hundred times at schools, hospitals, libraries, Buddhist temple festivals, and even prisons, at no charge.

When he returned home he went back with Ringling Brothers as a clown, but left the show in disgrace after getting into a fight with Michu, the World's Smallest Man. Blacklisted from circuses, Tim attended Brown Institute of Broadcasting and after nine months went to work at KGCX Radio in Williston North Dakota -- where he immediately fell in love with Amy Anderson, a Special Ed teacher in Tioga.

They were married in the Salt Lake Temple and the first few years of their marriage was a hectic and helter skelter existence as Tim kept looking for radio work that would support his growing family. Finally, through the good offices of Tim Holst, who by now was Vice President of Talent at Ringling, the blacklist was lifted and Tim was able to go back to work for circuses, including several Shrine circuses, work at Disneyland, as Ronald McDonald in Kansas, and with mud shows like Carson & Barnes and Culpepper & Merriweather.

Tim and Amy divorced in 1994.

Tim moved back to Thailand as an English teacher for several years, but eventually decided to return to the States to reestablish relationships with his children.

He retired and settled in Provo Utah, where he devoted most of his time to cooking meals for others and writing middling poetry. 

When asked for an epitaph for himself, he told his friends: "He will be missed -- but not by much."