Thursday, December 10, 2009

Arboreal Memories

That lonesome tree
once stood
like a sentinel

its vibrant roots
silently burgeoning
in receptive soil

And now
like an old man
grieving his lost youth

tree limbs
hang limply
toward the parched earth

A single drop of sunlit
sap evokes arboreal

when seed first sown
by timeworn winds
took root

and blossomed
into life's

c. Douglas Fireman

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Snuggling Beneath the Geraniums

When we snuck into the greenhouse
the sound of raindrops on the window panes
was so comforting.

Why we walked on tip-toe I'll never know.
I could hear the wind outside. The dark clouds
reminded me of Reverend Sykes
Sunday morning sermon.

We were just ten then. And everytime it thundered
You grabbed my hand. The comforting
had turned to fear.

The branches of the old Oak snapped
like bebe shot against the greenhouse windows.
When we hunkered down beneath the geraniums
I thought I heard the flowers growing.

Something else was growing too.
You were all freckles then: your red hair
your hand in mine...

We musta kissed twenty times
before the rain stopped.
When we tip-toed past the flowers
and out the door

you winked a me. Now,
in a greenhouse of our own, we still
tip-toe midst the flowers.

And every now and then, you'll find us
snuggling beneath
the geraniums...

c. Douglas Fireman

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Lost and Found

I tried to be quiet
but the stones
crunched under my feet,

and just as I approached
you jumped into a pool
of molten thought
and disappeared

leaving nothing
but concentric rings
of what might have been
had I remembered.

Upon returning to the forest
I saw you wearing
your floral crown.

When you smiled at me
I realized something
quite profound:

that my grief
for what I lost
transformed to joy
when you were found.

c. Douglas Fireman

Monday, October 5, 2009

Jerusalem of Gold

Here is the beautiful song,
'Jerusalem of Gold, sung in Hebrew
with English subtitles, by the famous Israeli singer, Ofra Hazar.

From the Old Testament:

"If I forget thee oh Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its cunning.
Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth if I prefer thee not above
my chiefest joys."

Having just returned from Jerusalem this manipulation is especially meaningful to me. The only thing I painted are the windows and the moon.


Sunday, October 4, 2009

Our Mutual Sabbath

Light, shadow,
merging in the silence

of this sacred space
where we share
our mutual Sabbath,

to journey once again
round Life's labyrinth

each others'

c. Douglas Fireman

Thursday, October 1, 2009

The Beginning of Something Grand

Do you remember
when we used to find
shadows on flower petals

when the sun was shining?
And how we used to stand
beneath those trees

watching shadows on the backs
of sun-lit leaves? It was like
a puppet show.

We'd wonder, what happened
to the shadows when the sun

We were only ten. But even then
I knew that searching
among the flowers

or on the backs of fluttering leaves
was the beginning of something grand.
Throughout the years we've walked

through many a sun-lit shadow
hand in hand
to the very moment of now...

c. Douglas Fireman

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Mutual Bloom

Is it easy
to plant a love seed
in the dark loam
of another's heart?

I think, yes. But
there will be no love
unless the gardner
can sprout

the flower
that will bloom
in another's heart
and pollinate their own.

c. Douglas Fireman
Posted by Doug at 3:26 PM 0 comments

Alter Egos

Yesterday, I watched my cat
communing with her alter egos,
two to be exact.

Through the glass door
she stared at them, wondering
if they were feline ghosts perhaps.

She didn't say a word, nor did she smile.
But with ears perked
and eyes wide open,

she just sat in the frigid air
and stared for a while,
her green eyes

reminding me of glass marbles.
Then, she turned her head
and meowed loudly,

and I

c. Douglas Fireman

Saturday, September 19, 2009


Those valleys will hold the bones
of every grandfather who walked this land
and the hearts of every grandmother
born since the sun first rose

on the eastern sky. Their childrens' children
will sing praises and plant seeds that sprout
the grain their grandfathers
once harvested;

their grandmothers once offered, which they
planted in their hearts
as an eternal memory
of them.

c. Douglas Fireman

I discovered the painting and photographed
it while in Arizona.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Happy New Year (Shana Tova).

"Der Rebbe Geht Schon Tanzen"

A Yiddish expression for:

"The Rabbi Goes Dancing."

We should all dance, sing, and clap our hands more often for the good things in life.

Discovered the Rabbi in a piece of tree bark. Just enlarged him a bit, fooled around with the lighting, added a bit of paint, and 'Voila.' "Es war baschert," Yiddish for "it was meant to be."

Happy New Year to Everybody!

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Autumnal Offering

The golden leaf
that settled
in the silver shell

still remains a guest
within my garden.
But sadly

the leaf is dying now.
Will it be there
in the morning

or be blown away
forever? That a single
dying leaf

can engender grief...
Was this
autumnal offering

reminding me
of the moment of now...

c. Douglas Fireman
Posted by Doug at 3:35 PM 0 comments

Somehow We Knew

Silver star
in a sea of darkness
gradually disappearing

And here we stand
I remember when we first met
and how your eyes
reflected tiny suns

My heart beat like all the drums
drummed within our tribe
for centuries
You smiled at me and I at you

Somehow we knew
that we would love for many moons
Each night
we watch the sun descend

behind the mountains
And when the moon
with her lover's light appears

we remember
the happiness the sorrow
the love
the tears

As we sit around the fire
listening to the silence
two tiny moons
I see reflected in your eyes...

c. Douglas Fireman
Posted by Doug at 8:18 AM 0 comments

Shadow On the Wall

When I saw the moonlit bicycle
beneath the old stone arch
I thought of you

Remember when I picked you up
from school We'd meet
beside the old barn

Your bicycle
was red and blue and scratched
along the back fender

Mine was painted black
and the front wheel spokes
were bent

We spent a lot of time
pedaling side by side
and promised that

no matter how many flat tires
twisted spokes or spills
we'd be there for each other

My heels clicked
against the cobblestone streets
till once again

the bike beneath the arch
with its shadow on the wall
came into view

and I thought of you...
Posted by Doug at 3:31 PM 0 comments

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Recurrent Themes

when you're walking in the forest
you can hear them whispering;
confiding to each other.

With the falling of their leaves
one hears recurrent themes
beneath the sun and above the roots
that intertwine in velvet darkness...

c. Douglas Fireman