#jim moore

[pityroad]

Teaching the Dog Not to Nip, Jim Moore (2005)

[text ID: Do you think it's easy, not biting the one you love? Try loving someone so much your mouth is only at home in the place where your teeth meet the flesh of your beloved. Try not tasting the flesh, not taking in your mouth the beloved, not going all the way.]

[unofskylanderspages]

Seen above: Concept of Telescope Towers by Jim Moore

[missedstations]

"Full Moon at Eighty" - Jim Moore

When I look up, there it is. I can see that it does not need us, but does not mind that we need it. I think I am supposed to stop trying to be someone. Be everyone instead, it says. I shine on everyone, it says: can you do the same in your waning? If I am to live at all, it will have to be in this way: knowing I am going away and shining, even so, guided by the light of knowing that.

[fl0ras]

do you think it’s easy, not biting the one you love? try loving someone so much your mouth is only at home in the place where your teeth meet the flesh of your beloved. try not tasting the flesh, not taking in your mouth the beloved, not going all the way.

teaching the dog not to nip. jim moore, 2005.

[poem-today]

A poem by Jim Moore

Also Known As

If you are closer to being old than you would like to be and slowness begins to redefine the idea of difficulty into something you would much rather take a pass on, then it is time for the sky to grow larger than the earth, than the sea even. You need to go to that place where your story is seriously quiet. Nothing in it counts compared to the things sky calls out to: birds, clouds, the occasional cypress that has reached beyond itself. You could call it a kind of waiting and that would be fair. There is a green bench in the sky — a corner of heaven, you could say — and there you can sit in the shade and watch the grandfather and grandson walk by. The little one makes the older one laugh again and again, and that is the way it works in heaven. Also known as going home. Also known as getting over yourself.

Jim Moore

More poems by Jim Moore are available through his website.

Image: Waiting for Granddad by Margo Mosher-Swain

[pinksource]

P!NK - When I Get There (Lyric Video)

[jimrmoore]

Zero Boy has a Birthday!

For many years, I have been fortunate enough to capture the performances of an incredibly talented and hilarious performer on camera. This artist has the ability to create ‘Live Cartoons’ through his verbal skills and mimetic talent, always leaving me laughing uncontrollably with tears of joy streaming down my face. Throughout the years, I have watched Zero Boy cover an incredible amount of…

[leafmouldandearth]

"After Michael Longley, After Amergin Glúingel" by Jim Moore.

Found in the Feb 22, 2024 issue of The New York Review of Books

[imaginemirage]

Teaching the Dog Not to Nip Do you think it's easy, not biting the one you love? Try loving someone so much your mouth is only at home in the place where your teeth meet the flesh of your beloved. Try not tasting the flesh, not taking in your mouth the beloved, not going all the way

Jim Moore

[riverbird]

"Whatever else, the little smile on the face of the woman listening to a music the rest of us can’t hear and a sky at dawn with a moon all its own. Whatever else, the construction crane high above us waiting to be told how to do our bidding, we who bid and bid and bid. Whatever else, the way cook #1 looks with such longing at cook #2. Let’s not be too sad about how sad we are. I know about the disappearance of the river dolphins, the sea turtles with tumors. I know about the way the dead don’t return no matter how long they take to die in the back of the police car. I know about the thousand ways our world betrays itself. Whatever else, my friend, spreading wide his arms, looks out at the river and says, “After all, what choice did I have?” After all, I saw the man walking who’d had the stroke, saw the woman whose body won’t stop shaking. I saw the frog in the tall grass, boldly telling us who truly matters. I saw the world proclaim itself an unlit vesper candle while a crow flew into the tip of it, sleek black match, burning." Jim Moore, Whatever Else

[slateblueearthbelow]

The Need Is So Great

Jim Moore

Sometimes I just sit like this at the window and watch the darkness come. If I’m smart, I’ll put on Bach.

I’m thinking now of how far it always seems there is to go. Maybe it is too easy that I speak so often

of late last light on a December day, of that stubborn grass that somehow still remains green

behind the broken chain link fence on the corner. But the need is so great for the way light looks

as it takes its leave of us. We say what we can to each other of these things,

we who are such thieves, stealing first one breath and then the next. Bach, keep going

just this slowly, show me the way to believe that what matters in this world has already happened

and will go on happening forever. The way light falls on the last

of the stricken leaves of the copper beech at the end of the block is something to behold.

[unofskylanderspages]

Seen above: Cadaverous Crypt dungeon concept by Jim Moore

[demifiendrsa]

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 | Official Trailer

Poster

Synopsis

Sonic the Hedgehog returns to the big screen this holiday season in his most thrilling adventure yet. Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails reunite against a powerful new adversary, Shadow, a mysterious villain with powers unlike anything they have faced before. With their abilities outmatched in every way, Team Sonic must seek out an unlikely alliance in hopes of stopping Shadow and protecting the planet.

[geopsych]

Saw this photo of the North York Moors in Yorkshire in the UK, taken by online friend Jim Leary, and got permission to share it here. They’ve been having light snow and hoarfrost. Incredible beauty.

[poem-today]

A poem by Jim Moore

Love in the Ruins

1           I remember my mother toward the end,

folding the tablecloth after dinner           so carefully, as if it were the flag           of a country that no longer existed, but once had ruled the world.

2           7 A.M. and the barefoot man

leaves his lover's house           to go back to his basement room across the alley. I nod hello,           continuing to pick the first small daffodils           which just yesterday began to bloom.

3           Helicopter flies overhead

reminding me of that old war           where one friend lost his life, one his mind,           and one came back happy to be missing only an unnecessary finger.

4           I vow to write five poems today,

look down and see a crow           rising into thick snow on 5th Avenue as if pulled by invisible strings,           and already there is only one to go.

5           Survived

another winter: my black stocking cap,           my mismatched gloves, my suspicious, chilly heart.

Jim Moore

More poems by Jim Moore are available through his website.

[cull3nblaze]