Farewell to Moristotle & Co.

By Paul Clark
(aka motomynd)

It seems fitting that my internet went out as I was attempting to write this. I was drawn into the Moristotle family by accident, spent most of my time wondering if I fit in as anything more than the proverbial red-headed stepchild, and now an accident was preventing my properly saying goodbye.
    Over the years, Moristotle has become an amazing literary amalgamation that I hope somehow survives and evolves and gains more respect even as you, Morris, move on to other uses of your time. When I was allegedly gainfully employed in the magazine industry, I worked with various publishing houses across the country, but I never knew a group with more talent spread across a wider array of interests and perspectives than I came to know at Moristotle. I hope that you, Morris, and everyone involved, take great pride in what you have been part of.

All Over the Place: “A Witness to Your Life” from The...Other Poems

By Michael H. Brownstein

A Witness to Your Life

She is wife to the husband,

Keeper of memoirs he will never write,

The exposed and the secret-sharer.

Even with life so small, unkempt,

Littered with rude manners and perfumed breath.

Later, if he saved the drowning boy

Or pulled the soldier out of the burning building

Or calmed the man full of slurs and bad skin,

It will only be that ordinary people

Often do extraordinary things.

Farewells to Moristotle & Co.

By André Duvall
[with a few words from
Billy Charles Duvall]

I cherish knowing that my father and Morris are first cousins and have a great respect and affinity for each other (their mothers, Florine & Stella, respectively, were sisters). I’m blessed to have found myself in the middle of the thoughts and creations of these two amazing souls by way of my contributions to Moristotle & Co. I’m grateful to Morris for his unwavering encouragement, inspiration, and direct but always respectful nudging of my continued engagement with his blog.

“Fairmount” Relined (another Farewell to Moristotle & Co.)

By Maik Strosahl

When I submitted an audio file of my reading of my 2011 poem “Fairmount” for the sidebar’s “S.o.u.n.d.s of Moristotle & Co.” a few weeks ago, Moristotle observed that he could not hear some of the line breaks he saw presented in my June 21 “Highways and Byways” column, and he asked whether I would like to do a re-reading.
    After trying several times, I decided I didn’t like the way it sounded with all those short lines from a dozen years ago (when I wrote it). Consequently, I changed the line breaks (and only the line breaks) as shown in the new version, below.

All Over the Place: “Eight Breaks in the Glaze....” from The..Other Poems

By Michael H. Brownstein

Eight Breaks in the 

Glaze or If We Ate
Superstition for Supper

1.

I see exact replication in everyone, every tree,

      every landscape, every valley,
      in every thick mountain crag.

Birds know how to hate that way too.

Farewell to Moristotle & Co.

By Bob Boldt

There has been so much to say of late, but I have neglected to say anything due to personal issues inhibiting my creative life. That, and I just got out of the habit of contributing.
    In spite of this dearth, I link to Moristotle & Co. continually. I hope the site will stay up because it is a great link to some of the best of my work, beautifully displayed.
    I cannot express how much your mentorship has meant to me and, as I hear, to my two Mikes as well. Introducing them to you has been one of the great blessings of my life. You have been as great a stimulus to their creative lives as you have been to mine.
    Is there any chance you might be available in an advisory capacity to an aspiring poet from time to time?

Copyright © 2023 by Bob Boldt

All Over the Place: “Home” from The...Other Poems

By Michael H. Brownstein

Home

Potholed with devil sores.
He learned to tolerate them,
And now this: straight aways

Huge with speed bumps like blemishes.

“Everything is big there,”
They told him. “Be careful.”
And America was big. Big streets.
Big cereal boxes. Big windows.

Father’s Art: Works of Billy Charles Duvall [12]

Detail of a photo below

By André Duvall

Beyond the 31 works of art I’ve catalogued so far in this column, there are still other paintings in Dad’s oeuvre worthy of sharing. He recently rediscovered a few more completed works, owing to searches motivated by the evolution of our Father’s Art project. He also discovered several unfinished works from many years ago that the project has inspired him to work on completing.

Farewell to Moristotle & Co.

By Valeria Idakieva

When I was talking to Geoffrey Dean about my experience on the European route El Camino and he said “Why don’t you write something about it for my father’s blog? It doesn’t have to be something long and complicated and if you don’t want to do that, we can make it as an interview, you would only answer some questions,” I didn’t know “Adventures from Bulgaria” would become part of the great adventure called Moristotle & Co. But now that I know, I also know I will miss it. I will miss every bit of it – sharing the experience which made me live it once again, the encouraging words from other members, their colorful stories, the considerate, never tired, and always understanding Moristotle who not only looked through my eyes to make my texts sound better, but supported and encouraged me as an editor and a dear friend. I will be forever thankful for everything, Morris. You made my life more meaningful.

Copyright © 2023 by Valeria Idakieva

Farewell to Moristotle & Co.

By Chuck Smythe

Dear Morris, you lasted far longer than I! Your endurance was a marvel to behold, and offered us a wonderful stable of writers. Alas, after Esther began her long decline, I just didn’t have the will to create, and haven’t written anything for a long time. I did continue to follow Morisco, though, and occasionally I even left a comment. And I emailed you once in a while, though my messages were brief.

Highways and Byways: The Fertile Crescent (another Farewell to Moristotle & Co.)

By Maik Strosahl

Artesia dips her
wooden bucket
deep into his soul.

Once more
to the well for water,
once more
from creation’s spring.

Haiku ofFarewell to Moristotle & Co.

By Michael H. Brownstein

Moristotle lives
in the glory of its words,
its garden of poems.

Copyright © 2023 by Michael H. Brownstein

Farewell to Moristotle & Co.

By Michael H. Brownstein

A man walked into my home, took a left down the short hallway, entered the living room, and sat down on our old—but comfortable—sofa.
    Mind if I come in? he asked.
    Who are you? my wife answered.
    You’re already in, I said.
    Mind if I sit down? he asked.

All Over the Place: “Tunes” from The...Other Poems

By Michael H. Brownstein

Tunes

George walked the way he whistled. “That’s just the way I walk,” he said. No one had said anything about the way George walked. Everyone knew he was low key, off key, Ellison’s invisible man without Thurber’s Walter Mitty imagination. He married Sue two years later. She talked like a slide guitar and had the shape of an unrepentant electric bass. Together they learned the Nigerian kora, a quiet instrument, and had two children who did everything in the correct key.

Farewell to Moristotle & Co.

Photo from Jim’s mini high school
reunion at Lake Tahoe (10/8/2011)

By Jim Rix

Mo, congratulations on your third retirement!
    As I recall, your first retirement was from being an IBM technical writer/editor, and your second from being an administrative assistant to UNC vice presidents. I envy you that you were able to carry on to this third retirement, from managing the Moristotle & Co. blog and doing what you love to do, write and edit and help others.
    It will be sad when new postings cease after August 21.
    Your Friend,
    Jim

Copyright © 2023 by Jim Rix