October 1, 2020

Max’s Musings

By Max Molleston

Finding a poem you did not know existed is different than seeing one in a book of them hidden somehow from your searching. Sometimes it’s just incredible! My sister recently sent me a box on my birthday. I managed to get it open to discover four small white pillows, baby pillows. To explain, she had sent four of the smaller pillows a few years back. These are tuckable into cribs, or older folks places that can use these small pillows. Enuf of the background here. The plastic wrap had printed stuff that needed inspection. Here is the unannounced poem I found.

I would like to sing someone to sleep

Have someone to sit by and be with

I would like to softly sing

Be your companion while you sleep or wake

I would like to be the only one in the house

Who knew the night outside was cold.

Isn’t that some effort for that baby or a old person who needs the cuddly and warmth provided. I have to assume that effort, product, plastic holder of my pillows was a caring Chinese firm. You need to know Chinese poetry has been lauded for centuries.

If time and available info surface, I may find this poem, its reasons, and the poet.

I have read a lot of poetry in forty years diving in and surfacing with good and great poetry for our monthly essays (columns).

You need to know where to look! A waiting room in the newest UIHC hospital addition at Iowa River Landing, Coralville is my next found (I looked up and spotted it. Fourth floor, west seating area, and here is this wonderful expressive effort by poet Zoltan Peck, a Hungarian who I discovered. (I’d never heard of him.) It is about eight to ten feet high on the south wall, with a photo image of his handsome face. These folks are, generally good looking.

He rolled the mud over and over

Between his palms

Clockwise and back

Smoothing its creases

In to spherical immaculateness

Holding up the ball into the light

Over and over again

So as to check it

as God must have done with earth

before hurling it off.

I can’t relate how pleased to have delivered these poem, unknown to me and most likely you and some of our poet friends who consider themselves keen on writing that is as new as it can be, coming “out of the blue” to you and me and our likes.

Somewhat of a forewarning, I am winding down all my literature endeavors. As an older man (85) I have put together around 200 of our monthly trots into poems and their poets. Think of what I learned in those seventeen years, digging and writing on my favorite pastime, poetry.

Filed Under: History, Personal Growth