Humby TV

A nice little short about my time at the Arcata Saturday Farmers' Market

Jacqueline is the woman behind the Poem Store. She attends every Farmer's Market, so you have seen her. If case you haven't gone up to her, to ask whats going... we did.

Pastels on the Plaza

Thanks to Bob Humblogger for this Pastels on the Plaza piece.

Poet Jacqueline Suskin types her poems on a manual typewriter on the street. In this case she's on he Arcata Plaza during the Farmers' Market and a nonprofir event, Pastels on the Plaza.

Jon Skulski Blog Post

JonSkulski.net

I bought a poem from the Poem Store at Pastels on the Plaza. The subject was "moving on". Best poem I ever bought, it is wonderful:

In the idea of onward motion
the key is to recall the constants:
the moon keeps changing, it returns
and rebirths, the season go in
wild waves, birds leave for warmth.
This is a call to the natural
left and leaving and thus, a good
blessing for our saying yes to the end 

of one place and the awakening of the next.

Jacqueline Suskin
October 3rd, 2009
xxxxx
cicadabrood@gmail.com

Thank you, Jacqueline. type and errors kept in to try to translate the charm of this thing

Leaving Humboldt will be difficult and it has made that known to me; beautiful sunny days; warmer friends, a swirling community. I am tied in it's tangles. It was my first adventure. It is a precious place I am leaving.

The poem struck me right where I'm most tender at the moment. It gave me strength and took it all back again. It's reminding me to hold the line, to grit my teeth, tear some muscle and bare it. It will be worth it, it will be wonderful, but it won't be easy.

The first waves up the spine...

Squirrel Attic Blog Post

Squirrel-Attic.com

​While wandering the wooded alleys of the Oregon Country Fair on the afternoon of July 11 2009, I came across a young lady with a typewriter. Her typewriter had, printed upon it, "POEM STORE your subject & price". I approached her and said, I'd like three dollars worth of squirrel in the attic". She said okay, sat down with a grim expression, and began to type. Ninety seconds later, she pulled this parchment from the typewriter and handed it to me, and I gave her three dollars and I put the poem in my pocket and walked away. I later found it in my pocket and posted it below, here on my squirrel-in-the-attic website:

sleepingrodents.jpg
squirrel.jpg