* * *
Some fellow poets
recently encouraged me to enter
poetry contests, which I did.
Some contests will not accept
previously published poems,
but the definition of "published"
varies widely.
Some say it means merely
having appeared on a blog!
Until I learn the repercussions,
I am suspending blog entries.
Opinions?
* * *
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
What Changes, What Doesn't
* * *
110430
CHANGE OF
RESIDENT
default,
foreclosure
and eviction
portend
soon
I will leave
this home
in the interim,
it must be honored
and lovingly tended
the architect
deserves as much
he is,
even now,
preparing me to dwell
in another of his
many mansions
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: after leaving here.]
110429
ODE TO SPIRIT
inner light
guiding,
bright
words
will hardly do
I must live
my ode to you
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: ode.]
110428
WITHOUT DUE CONSIDERATION
For years we took—let's be blunt—
while other beings took the brunt.
Life used to be a treasure hunt
and we were always out in front.
We had privilege. We had clout.
Now there's come a turnabout.
Today we groan and whine and pout
because we have to do without;
we're bewildered and unsure;
we think we’re sick and seek a cure.
But mostly we are immature
and mushroom growth is our manure.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: the world without something (besides myself).]
110427
IN THE COMPANY OF POETS
In the eye of the artist,
in the eye of the wise,
it takes the merest moment
to spy and recognize—
paradise,
and all it implies.
In the eyes of the poets
(with whom I ally),
it’s done
in the wink,
in the blink,
in the twinkling of an eye.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: in the _____ of _____.]
110426
YOU FOLLOW?
Every time I drive through Oklahoma
on I-40 and go past Lake Eufala,
I think of Robert Shaw as crime boss
playing against Robert Redford as con man
in the movie, The Sting. “Ya follah?”
I also think of non-confident story tellers
repeatedly checking in with their audiences,
“You follah?”
Say, for instance, I’m not sure if you’re
acquainted with Oklahoma town names.
Instead of the classic four-town version
of names-as-sentence, I might go for five:
“Sallisaw Henryetta Waggoner Bowlegs,
Eufala?”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: leader or follower.]
110425
A HOME REPAIR NO-BRAINER (for Mike)
It only takes a second or two
to fall from a ladder,
which allows for a surprising
amount of thinking.
My brother said his thoughts,
as he plunged toward
a rock sidewalk and curb,
included which part
of his body to sacrifice.
He saved his head.
OSHA can tell you
how often this is NOT the case
(at least in business) and how important
ladder safety training is.
Plus, using your head.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: falling.]
110424
NEEDLESS
SUFFERING
…as opposed
to needful?
SPIRITUAL PRACTICE
May each person find their joy—
and find that joy to be their practice.
May each person find their practice—
and find that practice to be their service.
May each person find their service—
and find that service to be their therapy.
May each therapist
inspire others to be well and wise.
And may each poet
find their therapy to be
the joyful practice of their poetry.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: prayer.]
110423
QUITE QUIT
I was primed to go
and would have gone
(without a goad)
until I dropped.
But it's end of rhyme
and road and line;
when prompted to,
I promptly stopped.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: quit doing something.]
110422
ONE OF THOSE DAYS
As he prepares to unload his cart,
the next shopper in line notices
that it is mostly empty;
two dozen cans of catfood
and a bag of peanuts
don’t take up much space.
“You go there,” she says,
pointing to an express lane
several aisles over.
“I’m easy,” he thinks,
“I have time.”
To the express lane checker he remarks,
“Ever have one of those days?”
“Nope.”
SISTERS
It could have been a dress
or a job or a man.
Neither recalls who noticed it first,
gleaming in the grass—a ring.
Both wanted it,
but both wanted to share.
For awhile, they took turns wearing it.
When life (and a suitor) proposed
that they split apart to separate towns,
they visited the local jeweler
and told their story.
“Can you make a duplicate?”
“Yes,” he said, smiling.
“I can get a similar blue stone
and wax-cast the band and setting.
You could not tell the new ring
from the old.“
“But, no, I will not do that.
This ring was hand-made
by an exceptional craftsman.
This ring was found and shared by you.
This ring is a testament to your
sisterhood and friendship.
None of that can be duplicated.”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: only one in the world.]
* * *
110430
CHANGE OF
RESIDENT
default,
foreclosure
and eviction
portend
soon
I will leave
this home
in the interim,
it must be honored
and lovingly tended
the architect
deserves as much
he is,
even now,
preparing me to dwell
in another of his
many mansions
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: after leaving here.]
110429
ODE TO SPIRIT
inner light
guiding,
bright
words
will hardly do
I must live
my ode to you
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: ode.]
110428
WITHOUT DUE CONSIDERATION
For years we took—let's be blunt—
while other beings took the brunt.
Life used to be a treasure hunt
and we were always out in front.
We had privilege. We had clout.
Now there's come a turnabout.
Today we groan and whine and pout
because we have to do without;
we're bewildered and unsure;
we think we’re sick and seek a cure.
But mostly we are immature
and mushroom growth is our manure.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: the world without something (besides myself).]
110427
IN THE COMPANY OF POETS
In the eye of the artist,
in the eye of the wise,
it takes the merest moment
to spy and recognize—
paradise,
and all it implies.
In the eyes of the poets
(with whom I ally),
it’s done
in the wink,
in the blink,
in the twinkling of an eye.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: in the _____ of _____.]
110426
YOU FOLLOW?
Every time I drive through Oklahoma
on I-40 and go past Lake Eufala,
I think of Robert Shaw as crime boss
playing against Robert Redford as con man
in the movie, The Sting. “Ya follah?”
I also think of non-confident story tellers
repeatedly checking in with their audiences,
“You follah?”
Say, for instance, I’m not sure if you’re
acquainted with Oklahoma town names.
Instead of the classic four-town version
of names-as-sentence, I might go for five:
“Sallisaw Henryetta Waggoner Bowlegs,
Eufala?”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: leader or follower.]
110425
A HOME REPAIR NO-BRAINER (for Mike)
It only takes a second or two
to fall from a ladder,
which allows for a surprising
amount of thinking.
My brother said his thoughts,
as he plunged toward
a rock sidewalk and curb,
included which part
of his body to sacrifice.
He saved his head.
OSHA can tell you
how often this is NOT the case
(at least in business) and how important
ladder safety training is.
Plus, using your head.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: falling.]
110424
NEEDLESS
SUFFERING
…as opposed
to needful?
SPIRITUAL PRACTICE
May each person find their joy—
and find that joy to be their practice.
May each person find their practice—
and find that practice to be their service.
May each person find their service—
and find that service to be their therapy.
May each therapist
inspire others to be well and wise.
And may each poet
find their therapy to be
the joyful practice of their poetry.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: prayer.]
110423
QUITE QUIT
I was primed to go
and would have gone
(without a goad)
until I dropped.
But it's end of rhyme
and road and line;
when prompted to,
I promptly stopped.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: quit doing something.]
110422
ONE OF THOSE DAYS
As he prepares to unload his cart,
the next shopper in line notices
that it is mostly empty;
two dozen cans of catfood
and a bag of peanuts
don’t take up much space.
“You go there,” she says,
pointing to an express lane
several aisles over.
“I’m easy,” he thinks,
“I have time.”
To the express lane checker he remarks,
“Ever have one of those days?”
“Nope.”
SISTERS
It could have been a dress
or a job or a man.
Neither recalls who noticed it first,
gleaming in the grass—a ring.
Both wanted it,
but both wanted to share.
For awhile, they took turns wearing it.
When life (and a suitor) proposed
that they split apart to separate towns,
they visited the local jeweler
and told their story.
“Can you make a duplicate?”
“Yes,” he said, smiling.
“I can get a similar blue stone
and wax-cast the band and setting.
You could not tell the new ring
from the old.“
“But, no, I will not do that.
This ring was hand-made
by an exceptional craftsman.
This ring was found and shared by you.
This ring is a testament to your
sisterhood and friendship.
None of that can be duplicated.”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: only one in the world.]
* * *
Love, Like, Life
* * *
110421
DOUBLE-TAKE
“Odd,” he said.
He was the passenger in my car,
so I wanted to know.
“Well, when I was younger,
I used to think of Death
as some entity I would occasionally
glance at in my rear-view mirror
as I zoomed down life’s highway,
so to speak.”
Okay, a little odd.
“Anyway, today it hit me:
‘Objects in mirror may be
closer than they appear.’”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: second thoughts.]
110420
MESSAGE
IN A BOTTLE
Hello
to a fellow
castaway,
from myself
on this beach.
Today
(who knows why?)
this bottle
dropped
from a hazy
sky.
What can I say?
The gods
must be crazy.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: message in a bottle.]
110419
LOVE IS KIND
I called to love.
It didn't come.
I haven't known it yet.
Not yet.
Love
doesn't mind.
So if you come to me
for love,
here is what you'll get—
my efforts to be kind.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: love or anti-love poem.]
THIS IS LOVE?
Why can’t a spouse
be considerate?
Or at least consider it?
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: love or anti-love poem.]
110418
LIKE: A HOW-TO
like like new
under sun—
like like life
just begun—
like like coo
of turtledove—
like like you—
like like love
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: like _____.]
110417
'TIS! 'TISN'T!
nothing
is bigger
than
everything
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: big picture.]
110416
SHOCKING DEVELOPMENTS
Cameras may take snapshots,
but snapshots don’t take cameras.
Case in point:
this abruptly encountered
rural Oklahoma scene—
stoppedvehicles,blueflashinglights,
policecruiser,brokenfence,wanderingbulls,
highbluff,enormouswhitewindturbines.
The shock of any shock
is its snap back to ordinary—
in this case, Oklahoma redefined.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: snapshot.]
TWO-LANE TRIP
I didn't take a camera
to Oklahoma,
but I got a snapshot:
police car lights, broken fence,
escaped bulls, bluff just beyond
crowned by a row of white wind turbines
Not the Oklahoma I remembered.
[ASIDE: Our trip lasted from 5:30am to 11:30pm. Thankfully,
I got the poem prompt at an OKC Starbucks. The poem has already
morphed but this is the pre-midnight version.]
110415
UN PROFIL “CLASSIQUE”
Nom: Hercule-Savinien
Pseudo: Dartagnan
Date de Naissance: Mars 6
Résidence: Près de l'Hôtel de Bourgogne, Paris
Education: Collège de Beauvais
Profession:
Musicien; écrivain; scientifique; mathematician;
cavalier; et l'auteur de la littérature, la "science-
fiction," et la poésie
Favoris:
- Restaurant: Rageuneau Patisserie
- Alimentation: Raisins, macarons
- Pièces de Théâtre: La Clorise, Roméo et Juliette
- Musique: Les ballads
Je Déteste:
Les mensonges, les préjugés, la lâcheté, la bêtise,
et de compromise
J’Aime:
L'intégrité, l'esprit, l'impétuosité, le courage,
et la gloire (et, bien sûr, Roxane)
Signe Particulier:
Mon nez, ce qui est "Magnifique!"
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: a profile.]
110414
TAKE YOUR MEDICINE
Medical therapies invite controversy—
What works? What doesn’t? Who decides?
Pharmaceutical ads have taken a new tack.
It’s no longer “Take this for your malady,”
but “Take this so your malady will not
disturb others.” On the horizon is
“Have family members take this medicine
so they will not be a disturbance either.”
…Regardless of the rationale,
“Take this medicine.”
This week, a case was battled out in court,
in the press, and in opinion polls.
A financially strapped mom was found guilty
of attempted murder for withholding
chemotherapy drugs from her autistic son
who died at the age of nine of leukemia.
The therapy was too painful, she testified.
All in all, it’s a great case for speculation.
It’s enlightening to discover
how established medicine defines
successful cancer treatment:
a very short-term extension
of a sufferer’s projected demise;
Suzanne Somers mentions this in
“Knockout,” the book about her own
cancer-related tangle with chemotherapists.
It may be a case where she got it all wrong.
Medical therapies invite controversy—
What works? What doesn’t? Who decides?
SHANTYMAN
Oh, my will is weak,
but my swill is strong
and I do love
a silly-sung song.
RUNNING, OUT OF TIME
“What a fiasco!
How will I ever redeem myself
with the committee?
I must have missed something
the client said; I’ll have to
look through my notes tomorrow.
But when? When? Let’s see…
right after the staff meeting
should work, provided—
Huh? Did you say something?”
“Yes, you look a little lost.
When are you?”
WORK? NOT MY BUSINESS
"A Day's Work,"
I named my business,
but didn't work
a single one.
"Grand Poobah"
was my title.
Mission Statement:
"Just Have Fun."
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: none of my business.]
110413
FRIENDSHIP AND CHALLENGE
First, his father died.
When his mother was taken to
a permanent nursing facility,
that left him home alone.
He went through money then
(all of it) and friends.
We did what we could.
He was just enough mentally
un-challenged to hold down
a short series of janitorial jobs.
Then he fell into the safety net
of the homeless.
For him, it worked.
Once, during his home-alone days,
I went with him to visit a sick friend;
he drove.
He drove serenely through the worst parts
of town, oblivious (unlike nervous me)
to littered sidewalks, broken-out windows,
graffiti, and tough-looking residents.
I examined his face, watched his eyes,
noted his easy talking, and realized—
he was as thoroughly in his own world
as I was in mine; further, nothing
prevented me from ease like his
except my own interpretations.
Today,
as doomsday reports come in
and safety nets erode,
I deliberately adopt my friend’s ease
to reinterpret the world.
I say, this earth is my home—
and I am not home alone.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: remembering an old relationship.]
110412
BUSTED
“Withdraw? Oh, yeah? Well, draw a blank!”
My drive-by teller’s such a crank
(the muse who minds my data bank).
“You never thank! You never thank!”
“You don’t deposit the amount
to prime the pump that fills my fount.
You give me grief I can’t surmount.
You no-account! You no-account!”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: a form or anti-form poem (this is monotetra).]
* * *
110421
DOUBLE-TAKE
“Odd,” he said.
He was the passenger in my car,
so I wanted to know.
“Well, when I was younger,
I used to think of Death
as some entity I would occasionally
glance at in my rear-view mirror
as I zoomed down life’s highway,
so to speak.”
Okay, a little odd.
“Anyway, today it hit me:
‘Objects in mirror may be
closer than they appear.’”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: second thoughts.]
110420
MESSAGE
IN A BOTTLE
Hello
to a fellow
castaway,
from myself
on this beach.
Today
(who knows why?)
this bottle
dropped
from a hazy
sky.
What can I say?
The gods
must be crazy.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: message in a bottle.]
110419
LOVE IS KIND
I called to love.
It didn't come.
I haven't known it yet.
Not yet.
Love
doesn't mind.
So if you come to me
for love,
here is what you'll get—
my efforts to be kind.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: love or anti-love poem.]
THIS IS LOVE?
Why can’t a spouse
be considerate?
Or at least consider it?
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: love or anti-love poem.]
110418
LIKE: A HOW-TO
like like new
under sun—
like like life
just begun—
like like coo
of turtledove—
like like you—
like like love
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: like _____.]
110417
'TIS! 'TISN'T!
nothing
is bigger
than
everything
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: big picture.]
110416
SHOCKING DEVELOPMENTS
Cameras may take snapshots,
but snapshots don’t take cameras.
Case in point:
this abruptly encountered
rural Oklahoma scene—
stoppedvehicles,blueflashinglights,
policecruiser,brokenfence,wanderingbulls,
highbluff,enormouswhitewindturbines.
The shock of any shock
is its snap back to ordinary—
in this case, Oklahoma redefined.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: snapshot.]
TWO-LANE TRIP
I didn't take a camera
to Oklahoma,
but I got a snapshot:
police car lights, broken fence,
escaped bulls, bluff just beyond
crowned by a row of white wind turbines
Not the Oklahoma I remembered.
[ASIDE: Our trip lasted from 5:30am to 11:30pm. Thankfully,
I got the poem prompt at an OKC Starbucks. The poem has already
morphed but this is the pre-midnight version.]
110415
UN PROFIL “CLASSIQUE”
Nom: Hercule-Savinien
Pseudo: Dartagnan
Date de Naissance: Mars 6
Résidence: Près de l'Hôtel de Bourgogne, Paris
Education: Collège de Beauvais
Profession:
Musicien; écrivain; scientifique; mathematician;
cavalier; et l'auteur de la littérature, la "science-
fiction," et la poésie
Favoris:
- Restaurant: Rageuneau Patisserie
- Alimentation: Raisins, macarons
- Pièces de Théâtre: La Clorise, Roméo et Juliette
- Musique: Les ballads
Je Déteste:
Les mensonges, les préjugés, la lâcheté, la bêtise,
et de compromise
J’Aime:
L'intégrité, l'esprit, l'impétuosité, le courage,
et la gloire (et, bien sûr, Roxane)
Signe Particulier:
Mon nez, ce qui est "Magnifique!"
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: a profile.]
110414
TAKE YOUR MEDICINE
Medical therapies invite controversy—
What works? What doesn’t? Who decides?
Pharmaceutical ads have taken a new tack.
It’s no longer “Take this for your malady,”
but “Take this so your malady will not
disturb others.” On the horizon is
“Have family members take this medicine
so they will not be a disturbance either.”
…Regardless of the rationale,
“Take this medicine.”
This week, a case was battled out in court,
in the press, and in opinion polls.
A financially strapped mom was found guilty
of attempted murder for withholding
chemotherapy drugs from her autistic son
who died at the age of nine of leukemia.
The therapy was too painful, she testified.
All in all, it’s a great case for speculation.
It’s enlightening to discover
how established medicine defines
successful cancer treatment:
a very short-term extension
of a sufferer’s projected demise;
Suzanne Somers mentions this in
“Knockout,” the book about her own
cancer-related tangle with chemotherapists.
It may be a case where she got it all wrong.
Medical therapies invite controversy—
What works? What doesn’t? Who decides?
SHANTYMAN
Oh, my will is weak,
but my swill is strong
and I do love
a silly-sung song.
RUNNING, OUT OF TIME
“What a fiasco!
How will I ever redeem myself
with the committee?
I must have missed something
the client said; I’ll have to
look through my notes tomorrow.
But when? When? Let’s see…
right after the staff meeting
should work, provided—
Huh? Did you say something?”
“Yes, you look a little lost.
When are you?”
WORK? NOT MY BUSINESS
"A Day's Work,"
I named my business,
but didn't work
a single one.
"Grand Poobah"
was my title.
Mission Statement:
"Just Have Fun."
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: none of my business.]
110413
FRIENDSHIP AND CHALLENGE
First, his father died.
When his mother was taken to
a permanent nursing facility,
that left him home alone.
He went through money then
(all of it) and friends.
We did what we could.
He was just enough mentally
un-challenged to hold down
a short series of janitorial jobs.
Then he fell into the safety net
of the homeless.
For him, it worked.
Once, during his home-alone days,
I went with him to visit a sick friend;
he drove.
He drove serenely through the worst parts
of town, oblivious (unlike nervous me)
to littered sidewalks, broken-out windows,
graffiti, and tough-looking residents.
I examined his face, watched his eyes,
noted his easy talking, and realized—
he was as thoroughly in his own world
as I was in mine; further, nothing
prevented me from ease like his
except my own interpretations.
Today,
as doomsday reports come in
and safety nets erode,
I deliberately adopt my friend’s ease
to reinterpret the world.
I say, this earth is my home—
and I am not home alone.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: remembering an old relationship.]
110412
BUSTED
“Withdraw? Oh, yeah? Well, draw a blank!”
My drive-by teller’s such a crank
(the muse who minds my data bank).
“You never thank! You never thank!”
“You don’t deposit the amount
to prime the pump that fills my fount.
You give me grief I can’t surmount.
You no-account! You no-account!”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: a form or anti-form poem (this is monotetra).]
* * *
Monday, April 11, 2011
Challenging Times
* * *
110411
EASTER
CELEBRANTS
Dogwoods
crowd the banks
of wilderness ravines,
offering
white hosannas
to alleluias
of green.
[ASIDE: Still dithering over offering/proffering
and alleluias/hallelujahs.]
MAYBE, MAYBE NOT
Strictly, there are no gulleys on our hilltop,
but my flowerpots and water-fountain barrels
indicated a 3- or 4-inch gulleywasher overnight.
A beautiful morning ensued,
and errands beckoned.
At the library park, ducks and geese
ventured from the pond to explore puddles
and other new water features.
After heavy rains,
I like to escort stranded worms across sidewalks;
it’s a habit I developed long ago.
Sure enough, as I walked the grounds,
I discovered worms in distress.
Later I encountered a large caterpillar—
luna moth size—but apparently expired.
Further on, there was a fresher-looking one,
so I bent to inspect.
As my hand reached toward it,
my mind countermanded,
“Maybe this has something to do with
those wandering geese.”
STUFF AND NONSENSE
Our minds store up
the stuff we need
until the time we need it;
and what a waste
that seems to be—
so seldom do we heed it.
HELP!
Once
this was heady.
But—
enough already!
110410
TRENDING TOPICS
The negatives I focus on
multiply like evil spawn.
When I abhor, I get more.
What I oppose, grows.
Why in heaven’s name
this should be so,
heaven only knows.
Hell responds to “never”
like coyotes to a hen,
so “never” is the surest way
to bring it back again.
But saying “Never again!”
to “Never again!”
is a self-defeating chore—
according to the way of things,
that just escalates it more.
Positive is the only cure
for this negative spiral trend—
claiming what I truly want,
now and ever… “Ever again!”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Never again! ]
OH NO?
"Never again
will I display my wares
(these makings of my heart)
to shuns and stares
and slight-of-words
disparaging my art."
My art is in its infancy,
born of separate knowing;
the irritations I avoid,
it grasps to speed our growing.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Never again! ]
WHO RULES? WHO KNOWS?
here’s a recently clean
sheet of paper
with twenty-three ruled lines
(who is their ruler?)
I’m writing on the seventh line now,
having left room at the top
for a title
now I’m halfway down the page—
and what have I said
of significance?
this slow descent
is like the passage of my life
and just as overcast
by that pesky question:
what have I said—or done—
of significance?
(wouldn’t I be
the last to know?)
110409
SLIPPING
My errors
repeat in patterns—
transitions,
repetitions,
slips of mind or pen—
that I notice and forget…
till I notice them again.
MIDNIGHT
DEADLINE
At the proverbial,
if not literal,
eleventh hour—
rescue arrived:
my muse's
higher power.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Time.]
EARLY SUBMISSION
TO A LATE DEADLINE
Kinda loses the fun
when your poem’s
done done.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Time.]
PROGRESS
Taxes submitted: check.
Scrapbook project handed off: check.
Club presidency resigned: check.
Unemployment benefits terminated: check.
Poem written: check.
I’m free!
ENDEAVOR
I keep seeking
“wherever”
to find my kin,
to match the
“whatever”
I find within.
BON TEMPS
There’s plenty
of what I want
in the world
an’ I’m gonna have me some.
In fact, I see,
I have it now—
all capped off with fun.
110408
MUSIC TO OUR FEARS (for Faye Jean)
She's a drama-queen comedian—
the best of these there's ever been;
a melodrama melodian!
She can turn a groan into applause
and brighten gray to yellow.
She's part magician too, because
she makes melo mellow.
110408
GETTING TO KNOW THE NEIGHBORS
Newly divorced and newly-fallen financially,
I moved to a shabbier part of the city.
Someone had preceded me.
“Didn’t you used to be the florist at the
west-side branch of this supermarket?”
“Yes.” She had been transferred down.
“Oh,” I breathed,
wondering at her own fallen state.
“How is it here? I don’t suppose
many people buy flowers.”
She laughed. “I had that same expectation
at first. Life is hard in this neighborhood,
so everybody looks out for everybody else;
they have to. But the less they have,
the more they appreciate what’s left.”
“They appreciate beauty,” she said,
nodding toward the floral displays.
“They will scrimp somewhere else
to buy each other flowers.
Here, each day is a celebration.”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Celebration.]
110407
WHAT “IF”?
One tiny nudge
can edit history;
every poet
knows this mystery.
Here’s a thought—
What if Kipling
had (or had not!)
been tippling?
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: What if?]
110406
DON’T FLATTER YOURSELF
You mighta heard the talk around town
about how you managed to overcome
your circumstances an’ become
a leading citizen hereabouts…
pillar of the community an’ all that.
You mighta heard people say
you’re a friend to man an’ beast,
a credit to your sex, an’ generally
outstandin’ in every way.
Well, I know you better’n them folks.
I seen you at your best an’ worst.
I know the truth an’ I aim tell it.
So don’t flatter yourself, friend… let me!
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Don’t…]
110405
IMPATIENT THERAPY
Hurry, Doc!
Don’t be slow.
I need to know
about this diet
while I try it—
Was fiber ample
in my sample?
What’s the poop?
Give me the scoop.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Goofy and/or serious.]
110404
THE LEGEND
Apple blossoms appeared yesterday—
at least to my notice.
Ever since,
I have been trying to envision
John Chapman
and his famous apple seeds.
How did he travel; how transport;
where did he cache; where was his stash?
What was his source of supply?
I am as much intrigued
by the logic as the logistics.
So—why?
The childhood story was apples.
The adulthood one is cider.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: A person.]
110403
ARE POEMS STILL ALLOWED TO RHYME?
Water is water and that’s very nice,
but is it okay for it to be ice?
If that is the case, please share a tip;
may icicles, currently, melt or drip?
What is the rule; must water be cool
and, if so, how much—or is it
required to be warm to the touch?
Water appears to be rather fickle…
What is decreed about water as steam?
May it spray, foam, or trickle
while going downstream?
What are the rules about vapor and smog?
What are the edicts on cloudbanks and fog?
May seawater taste, these days, like brine?
Again—are poems allowed to rhyme?
NIGHT SHIFT
I leave my body nightly
as a bookmark, then check out.
On my return, I always find it
moved to a further page.
This is a mystery;
read into it what you will.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: My own absence.]
110402
EXPECTANT, SEE
Spring can be dull,
gloomy, cold—people too,
young or old,
who close their eyes
to gloomy, cold April skies
that suddenly switch blue.
SATURDAY
we slept in
got up
ate
slept again
what more
can a body ask?
POSTCARD
It’s overcast, gray,
and foggy today…
nothing, to me, is clear.
That’s all there seems
to be to say;
that’s the view from here.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Postcard.]
110401
WHAT GOT ME HERE
“What?” arrived around ’03
when a key life mission appeared for me,
to which I’ve been (for the most part) true.
“What?” Oprah asked.
And I instantly knew.
“What one thing, if left undone, would you
most regret when your life was run?”
“Poetry!” then “What?” I said,
wondering how such a notion got in my head
and overtook my heart.
My poem-a-day mission, given its start,
grew clearer by the year.
Now I’ve arrived, an everyday poet—
“What?” is the what
what got me here.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: What got me here.
This challenge was recommended by Writer’s Digest
and appears on Robert Lee Brewer’s blog.]
110331
MARCH SIMILES
He's like a scar:
clings to the past.... a real pain in the ass
He's like abs:
just like glutes & pecs, aims for health & sex
She's like bell-bottoms:
a wardrobe trial; goes in and out of style
He's like a finger nail:
count on it; under pressure, he will split
She's like a musket:
once she shot a cavalier, then shed a musket tear
He's like a three-ring binder:
difficult to categorize, since so ready to revise
He's like an 800 number:
more, even, than the mall... open when you call
She's like the iPhone:
admired, desired; by some, acquired
He's like a unicycle:
kind of a flubber where the road meets the rubber
He's like the alphabet:
he means well (for a spell)
He's like a kite:
stunt flier with one desire: higher! higher!
She's like a chandelier:
helps light make a prism break
She's like an exclamation point:
emotion detector... and projector
He's like a cherry picker:
How he'd boast! Now he's toast.
She's like a dissertation:
demonstrated mastery achieved through slavery
[ASIDE: Posted during the month to www.oneupme.com,
an online game. Only very short responses to each prompt are allowed.]
110330
THAT NAGGING QUESTION
How can I enjoy my villa by the sea;
my downy bed; my bread, fruit, tea…
when you and yours have not,
because of mine and me?
110329
BEDTIME STARRY
Good night, beloveds...
night-night, sleep tight.
If I were your mother,
I'd hug you tight.
110328
LET'S BE FRIENDS
See-saw,
swing,
merry-go round.
Here I am.
Come find me.
There you are.
Be found.
PROGRESS
OVER PERFECTION
One percent more,
one percent better;
that's how to soar—
as a one-percenter.
110327
CACHE AND RELEASE
I want to go to Machu Picchu;
so I’ve said for forty years.
It’s one of those raisin-dreams;
deferred.
My dad postponed his own
such dream—Alaska—many years.
I’ve had and used his souvenir gift
a further many years
and have looked at it many times;
tonight, at last, I saw the gift of it.
It’s a small gold-toned bookmark;
paper-clip type, laser-cut.
The topmost part, a filigree design
above the cut-work word “ALASKA,”
forms circular border framing a scene.
The central motif, with evergreens
at either side, is not a mountain, grizzly,
salmon, elk, or totem pole,
but a small log cabin on stilts
with ladder access: a cache.
It is a place where dreams are stored
and kept viable; Dad’s gift affirms it.
110326
THE PRINCESS AND THE PEE
“Clin shits,” my husband announces
after washing yet another load of bedclothes.
Thankfully, it hasn’t come to that; instead,
it’s just one cat with a bladder problem.
Or else, like us, she’s simply confused.
* * *
110411
EASTER
CELEBRANTS
Dogwoods
crowd the banks
of wilderness ravines,
offering
white hosannas
to alleluias
of green.
[ASIDE: Still dithering over offering/proffering
and alleluias/hallelujahs.]
MAYBE, MAYBE NOT
Strictly, there are no gulleys on our hilltop,
but my flowerpots and water-fountain barrels
indicated a 3- or 4-inch gulleywasher overnight.
A beautiful morning ensued,
and errands beckoned.
At the library park, ducks and geese
ventured from the pond to explore puddles
and other new water features.
After heavy rains,
I like to escort stranded worms across sidewalks;
it’s a habit I developed long ago.
Sure enough, as I walked the grounds,
I discovered worms in distress.
Later I encountered a large caterpillar—
luna moth size—but apparently expired.
Further on, there was a fresher-looking one,
so I bent to inspect.
As my hand reached toward it,
my mind countermanded,
“Maybe this has something to do with
those wandering geese.”
STUFF AND NONSENSE
Our minds store up
the stuff we need
until the time we need it;
and what a waste
that seems to be—
so seldom do we heed it.
HELP!
Once
this was heady.
But—
enough already!
110410
TRENDING TOPICS
The negatives I focus on
multiply like evil spawn.
When I abhor, I get more.
What I oppose, grows.
Why in heaven’s name
this should be so,
heaven only knows.
Hell responds to “never”
like coyotes to a hen,
so “never” is the surest way
to bring it back again.
But saying “Never again!”
to “Never again!”
is a self-defeating chore—
according to the way of things,
that just escalates it more.
Positive is the only cure
for this negative spiral trend—
claiming what I truly want,
now and ever… “Ever again!”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Never again! ]
OH NO?
"Never again
will I display my wares
(these makings of my heart)
to shuns and stares
and slight-of-words
disparaging my art."
My art is in its infancy,
born of separate knowing;
the irritations I avoid,
it grasps to speed our growing.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Never again! ]
WHO RULES? WHO KNOWS?
here’s a recently clean
sheet of paper
with twenty-three ruled lines
(who is their ruler?)
I’m writing on the seventh line now,
having left room at the top
for a title
now I’m halfway down the page—
and what have I said
of significance?
this slow descent
is like the passage of my life
and just as overcast
by that pesky question:
what have I said—or done—
of significance?
(wouldn’t I be
the last to know?)
110409
SLIPPING
My errors
repeat in patterns—
transitions,
repetitions,
slips of mind or pen—
that I notice and forget…
till I notice them again.
MIDNIGHT
DEADLINE
At the proverbial,
if not literal,
eleventh hour—
rescue arrived:
my muse's
higher power.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Time.]
EARLY SUBMISSION
TO A LATE DEADLINE
Kinda loses the fun
when your poem’s
done done.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Time.]
PROGRESS
Taxes submitted: check.
Scrapbook project handed off: check.
Club presidency resigned: check.
Unemployment benefits terminated: check.
Poem written: check.
I’m free!
ENDEAVOR
I keep seeking
“wherever”
to find my kin,
to match the
“whatever”
I find within.
BON TEMPS
There’s plenty
of what I want
in the world
an’ I’m gonna have me some.
In fact, I see,
I have it now—
all capped off with fun.
110408
MUSIC TO OUR FEARS (for Faye Jean)
She's a drama-queen comedian—
the best of these there's ever been;
a melodrama melodian!
She can turn a groan into applause
and brighten gray to yellow.
She's part magician too, because
she makes melo mellow.
110408
GETTING TO KNOW THE NEIGHBORS
Newly divorced and newly-fallen financially,
I moved to a shabbier part of the city.
Someone had preceded me.
“Didn’t you used to be the florist at the
west-side branch of this supermarket?”
“Yes.” She had been transferred down.
“Oh,” I breathed,
wondering at her own fallen state.
“How is it here? I don’t suppose
many people buy flowers.”
She laughed. “I had that same expectation
at first. Life is hard in this neighborhood,
so everybody looks out for everybody else;
they have to. But the less they have,
the more they appreciate what’s left.”
“They appreciate beauty,” she said,
nodding toward the floral displays.
“They will scrimp somewhere else
to buy each other flowers.
Here, each day is a celebration.”
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Celebration.]
110407
WHAT “IF”?
One tiny nudge
can edit history;
every poet
knows this mystery.
Here’s a thought—
What if Kipling
had (or had not!)
been tippling?
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: What if?]
110406
DON’T FLATTER YOURSELF
You mighta heard the talk around town
about how you managed to overcome
your circumstances an’ become
a leading citizen hereabouts…
pillar of the community an’ all that.
You mighta heard people say
you’re a friend to man an’ beast,
a credit to your sex, an’ generally
outstandin’ in every way.
Well, I know you better’n them folks.
I seen you at your best an’ worst.
I know the truth an’ I aim tell it.
So don’t flatter yourself, friend… let me!
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Don’t…]
110405
IMPATIENT THERAPY
Hurry, Doc!
Don’t be slow.
I need to know
about this diet
while I try it—
Was fiber ample
in my sample?
What’s the poop?
Give me the scoop.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Goofy and/or serious.]
110404
THE LEGEND
Apple blossoms appeared yesterday—
at least to my notice.
Ever since,
I have been trying to envision
John Chapman
and his famous apple seeds.
How did he travel; how transport;
where did he cache; where was his stash?
What was his source of supply?
I am as much intrigued
by the logic as the logistics.
So—why?
The childhood story was apples.
The adulthood one is cider.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: A person.]
110403
ARE POEMS STILL ALLOWED TO RHYME?
Water is water and that’s very nice,
but is it okay for it to be ice?
If that is the case, please share a tip;
may icicles, currently, melt or drip?
What is the rule; must water be cool
and, if so, how much—or is it
required to be warm to the touch?
Water appears to be rather fickle…
What is decreed about water as steam?
May it spray, foam, or trickle
while going downstream?
What are the rules about vapor and smog?
What are the edicts on cloudbanks and fog?
May seawater taste, these days, like brine?
Again—are poems allowed to rhyme?
NIGHT SHIFT
I leave my body nightly
as a bookmark, then check out.
On my return, I always find it
moved to a further page.
This is a mystery;
read into it what you will.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: My own absence.]
110402
EXPECTANT, SEE
Spring can be dull,
gloomy, cold—people too,
young or old,
who close their eyes
to gloomy, cold April skies
that suddenly switch blue.
SATURDAY
we slept in
got up
ate
slept again
what more
can a body ask?
POSTCARD
It’s overcast, gray,
and foggy today…
nothing, to me, is clear.
That’s all there seems
to be to say;
that’s the view from here.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: Postcard.]
110401
WHAT GOT ME HERE
“What?” arrived around ’03
when a key life mission appeared for me,
to which I’ve been (for the most part) true.
“What?” Oprah asked.
And I instantly knew.
“What one thing, if left undone, would you
most regret when your life was run?”
“Poetry!” then “What?” I said,
wondering how such a notion got in my head
and overtook my heart.
My poem-a-day mission, given its start,
grew clearer by the year.
Now I’ve arrived, an everyday poet—
“What?” is the what
what got me here.
[ASIDE: Submitted to Poem-A-Day challenge,
theme: What got me here.
This challenge was recommended by Writer’s Digest
and appears on Robert Lee Brewer’s blog.]
110331
MARCH SIMILES
He's like a scar:
clings to the past.... a real pain in the ass
He's like abs:
just like glutes & pecs, aims for health & sex
She's like bell-bottoms:
a wardrobe trial; goes in and out of style
He's like a finger nail:
count on it; under pressure, he will split
She's like a musket:
once she shot a cavalier, then shed a musket tear
He's like a three-ring binder:
difficult to categorize, since so ready to revise
He's like an 800 number:
more, even, than the mall... open when you call
She's like the iPhone:
admired, desired; by some, acquired
He's like a unicycle:
kind of a flubber where the road meets the rubber
He's like the alphabet:
he means well (for a spell)
He's like a kite:
stunt flier with one desire: higher! higher!
She's like a chandelier:
helps light make a prism break
She's like an exclamation point:
emotion detector... and projector
He's like a cherry picker:
How he'd boast! Now he's toast.
She's like a dissertation:
demonstrated mastery achieved through slavery
[ASIDE: Posted during the month to www.oneupme.com,
an online game. Only very short responses to each prompt are allowed.]
110330
THAT NAGGING QUESTION
How can I enjoy my villa by the sea;
my downy bed; my bread, fruit, tea…
when you and yours have not,
because of mine and me?
110329
BEDTIME STARRY
Good night, beloveds...
night-night, sleep tight.
If I were your mother,
I'd hug you tight.
110328
LET'S BE FRIENDS
See-saw,
swing,
merry-go round.
Here I am.
Come find me.
There you are.
Be found.
PROGRESS
OVER PERFECTION
One percent more,
one percent better;
that's how to soar—
as a one-percenter.
110327
CACHE AND RELEASE
I want to go to Machu Picchu;
so I’ve said for forty years.
It’s one of those raisin-dreams;
deferred.
My dad postponed his own
such dream—Alaska—many years.
I’ve had and used his souvenir gift
a further many years
and have looked at it many times;
tonight, at last, I saw the gift of it.
It’s a small gold-toned bookmark;
paper-clip type, laser-cut.
The topmost part, a filigree design
above the cut-work word “ALASKA,”
forms circular border framing a scene.
The central motif, with evergreens
at either side, is not a mountain, grizzly,
salmon, elk, or totem pole,
but a small log cabin on stilts
with ladder access: a cache.
It is a place where dreams are stored
and kept viable; Dad’s gift affirms it.
110326
THE PRINCESS AND THE PEE
“Clin shits,” my husband announces
after washing yet another load of bedclothes.
Thankfully, it hasn’t come to that; instead,
it’s just one cat with a bladder problem.
Or else, like us, she’s simply confused.
* * *
Friday, March 25, 2011
Moonshine
* * *
110325
THIS I KNOW FOR SURE (for Oprah)
A day without poetry
is like a night without moonshine.
[ASIDE: O Magazine seeks short poems on Twitter.]
110324
IT’S ALL IN THE
EXECUTION
Bad poem.
Bad, bad poem.
Take it out
and shoot it.
String it up
and shoot it down;
the only way
to mute it.
110323
IMAGINE (for Cat)
Imagine all problems
as subject to mind—
imagine imagination
making humankind kind.
[ASIDE: I'd say, for John Lennon too.]
110322
TROUBLESOME TRENDS
Neighbor pups encroach our cats.
That isn’t all that’s rough—
my to-do’s outswamp my done’s;
I can’t bail fast enough.
110321
THIS SCEPTERED WHILE
Winter’s dead.
Long live the king.
Spring! Spring!
Spring! Spring!
(Please excuse;
I must enthuse.)
110320
THE PAUSE THAT REFRESHES
Weekends! Weekends!
Time for fun and friends.
At end of week
when we’re weak from work,
they’re when that work-weak ends.
110319
MUTUAL
MIS-JUDGMENT
All that fighting
and hurt feelings—
what was that about?
No, don’t remind me—
this is truth and peace;
that was doubt.
110318
ANATOMY ANOMALY
What a piece of work is man,
whose body is an art.
Today I thanked my precious hands;
“Darlin’s, —bless your heart.”
110317
THE JIG IS UP
For Paddy’s day, I’d do a jig,
but don’t know how to jig-gle;
in fact, I cannot even do
a decent sort of wiggle.
On dancing lessons, I missed out.
At the tango, I’m not hot.
I never, ever twist and shout.
Fan-dance? Please!
And can-can, I cannot.
110316
REVISION
watercolor lessons
give me
watercolor eyes
now I see
watercolor flowers
watercolor skies
110315
MODERN TURMOIL
The Ides of March—irrelevant?
They scarcely drew a mention.
Japan and the Middle East
commanded our attention.
110314
PI DAY TRIBUTE (for Diane)
While you and I stand idly by
without a clue and wonder why,
she bakes circles around us—
she knows her way around a pie.
[ASIDE: She's a numbers person; the kind who likes
bookkeeping and tax preparations.]
110313
RECOUPERATION
wedding ring
car keys
other things like these
feared lost
assumed lost
find their way to me
110312
THERE’S ALWAYS A CATCH
A paradox—or plot, or ruse!
Freedom seekers, you’re forced to choose
among more expressions than you can use—
at least at once.
You win; you lose.
110311
LIONS’ CARD IDEA
Some birthdays are already done.
We hope today’s your greatest one…
and that the best are still to come.
110310
ANOTHER FINE MESS
“Oh, no—not again!
How many times have I asked you
not to do this—and you went ahead
and did it again. I am so frustrated,
I just can’t to talk to you right now.
No, I can't say another word!
Hey, are you listening to me?”
110309
LENTEN OBSERVANCE (for Joyce)
The "worker" that we trusted
has been oh-so-busted!
This photo makes it evident
how her life and Lent are spent.
[ASIDE: Coworkers shot evidence of her sleeping at her desk.]
110308
LOVE, LOVE ME, DO
If not top-of-mind,
it’s surely bottom-line
to all our prayers—
someone who cares.
110307
UNTITLED
All worlds
for me
will end
with me.
110306
HER HIGHNESS
In royal air and regal pose,
her rarified lineage shows—
and she, through its expression
makes quite a grand empression.
* * *
110325
THIS I KNOW FOR SURE (for Oprah)
A day without poetry
is like a night without moonshine.
[ASIDE: O Magazine seeks short poems on Twitter.]
110324
IT’S ALL IN THE
EXECUTION
Bad poem.
Bad, bad poem.
Take it out
and shoot it.
String it up
and shoot it down;
the only way
to mute it.
110323
IMAGINE (for Cat)
Imagine all problems
as subject to mind—
imagine imagination
making humankind kind.
[ASIDE: I'd say, for John Lennon too.]
110322
TROUBLESOME TRENDS
Neighbor pups encroach our cats.
That isn’t all that’s rough—
my to-do’s outswamp my done’s;
I can’t bail fast enough.
110321
THIS SCEPTERED WHILE
Winter’s dead.
Long live the king.
Spring! Spring!
Spring! Spring!
(Please excuse;
I must enthuse.)
110320
THE PAUSE THAT REFRESHES
Weekends! Weekends!
Time for fun and friends.
At end of week
when we’re weak from work,
they’re when that work-weak ends.
110319
MUTUAL
MIS-JUDGMENT
All that fighting
and hurt feelings—
what was that about?
No, don’t remind me—
this is truth and peace;
that was doubt.
110318
ANATOMY ANOMALY
What a piece of work is man,
whose body is an art.
Today I thanked my precious hands;
“Darlin’s, —bless your heart.”
110317
THE JIG IS UP
For Paddy’s day, I’d do a jig,
but don’t know how to jig-gle;
in fact, I cannot even do
a decent sort of wiggle.
On dancing lessons, I missed out.
At the tango, I’m not hot.
I never, ever twist and shout.
Fan-dance? Please!
And can-can, I cannot.
110316
REVISION
watercolor lessons
give me
watercolor eyes
now I see
watercolor flowers
watercolor skies
110315
MODERN TURMOIL
The Ides of March—irrelevant?
They scarcely drew a mention.
Japan and the Middle East
commanded our attention.
110314
PI DAY TRIBUTE (for Diane)
While you and I stand idly by
without a clue and wonder why,
she bakes circles around us—
she knows her way around a pie.
[ASIDE: She's a numbers person; the kind who likes
bookkeeping and tax preparations.]
110313
RECOUPERATION
wedding ring
car keys
other things like these
feared lost
assumed lost
find their way to me
110312
THERE’S ALWAYS A CATCH
A paradox—or plot, or ruse!
Freedom seekers, you’re forced to choose
among more expressions than you can use—
at least at once.
You win; you lose.
110311
LIONS’ CARD IDEA
Some birthdays are already done.
We hope today’s your greatest one…
and that the best are still to come.
110310
ANOTHER FINE MESS
“Oh, no—not again!
How many times have I asked you
not to do this—and you went ahead
and did it again. I am so frustrated,
I just can’t to talk to you right now.
No, I can't say another word!
Hey, are you listening to me?”
110309
LENTEN OBSERVANCE (for Joyce)
The "worker" that we trusted
has been oh-so-busted!
This photo makes it evident
how her life and Lent are spent.
[ASIDE: Coworkers shot evidence of her sleeping at her desk.]
110308
LOVE, LOVE ME, DO
If not top-of-mind,
it’s surely bottom-line
to all our prayers—
someone who cares.
110307
UNTITLED
All worlds
for me
will end
with me.
110306
HER HIGHNESS
In royal air and regal pose,
her rarified lineage shows—
and she, through its expression
makes quite a grand empression.
* * *
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Mundane Magic
* * *
110305
DIM WIT
I searched my thoughts
and recognized
that they were not profound
and, further,
that what dimmed them
was my wanting to astound.
110304
DISSERTATION:
DEFINITION
Demonstrated mastery
achieved through slavery.
110303
A POINT I WANT TO MAKE (for Lauren)
Truth is where you find it—
and what, through art,
it can become.
What's okay for you
is what's okay for you,
just as what's Donne is Donne.
110302
HER FLUFFINESS
“Darlin’, you’re a fluffy cat.
Notice, I did not say fat!
Living large (your predilection)
can align with looking slim;
in fact, you’ll see this when I trim.”
“Why would you shear perfection?”
110301
MYSTICS’ MYSTERY
If everything were innocent,
how could anything be wrong?
And why, if this premise were right,
does it seem to most humans so wrong?
110230
SLEEPER (for Arianna)
Arianna needed sleep
and, at last, she got it.
Now she's its ambassador—
whoever would have thought it?
110229
TRADE WARS
Books,
overproduced and devalued,
have become the kindling
of their own immolation—
reduced, like their authors,
to a dwindling status:
used as loss leaders
in the battle for readers.
110228
NATURAL SHOCKS
Freely weep,
rail, moan.
Pain
is a runestone
in a language
not yet known.
110227
“GETTING” MY WAY
NO! to that.
OH! to this:
I’m happy and healthy
and strong and free and rich.
YES! to what is so:
the one and only bliss.
110226
OSCARS (for Paula)
When you have
a front-row seat,
life is good,
life is tweet.
[ASIDE: Reply to Paula Poundstone who tweeted:
“I’m gonna tweet the #Oscars like a goddamned bird.”]
YOUR OWN DECISIONS
Some will like them.
But, for those who won’t,
you’re damned if you do,
damned if you don’t.
[ASIDE: FB comment on other comments to an Oprah
OWN show announcement.]
110225
MORAL SUPPORT
Into judgment and pride I easily slide
but when I choose to let these errors go by,
my willingness gets amplified;
there, but for the God of Grace, go I.
110224
TRENDING NOW
A sort of quirk,
(I’ve lately noticed)
affects my social network:
more Facebook posts
and fewer Tweets
are penned.
Is there meaning
in this trend?
110223
WARM WISHES
Like and for
everyone—
all I want
is a place
in the sun.
HARD, HARD TIMES
Hard times are coming.
Nerves tense; pulses quicken;
we feel it in our bones.
Hard, hard times are coming;
no bones about it,
we feel it in our bones.
But we are poised to conquer.
Here's what we must do:
joined together as one body,
brain and heart and muscle through.
T.L.C.
Little One beside me,
softly making little purrs,
does the Great One
tend to my needs,
as I tend to tending yours?
MEDITATORS
You have to lose
your mind (said one)
to find just-breathing’s
so much fun.
OUT-SOURCERY
Even if God
didn’t care for us,
except through us—
that alone
would be magical.
* * *
110305
DIM WIT
I searched my thoughts
and recognized
that they were not profound
and, further,
that what dimmed them
was my wanting to astound.
110304
DISSERTATION:
DEFINITION
Demonstrated mastery
achieved through slavery.
110303
A POINT I WANT TO MAKE (for Lauren)
Truth is where you find it—
and what, through art,
it can become.
What's okay for you
is what's okay for you,
just as what's Donne is Donne.
110302
HER FLUFFINESS
“Darlin’, you’re a fluffy cat.
Notice, I did not say fat!
Living large (your predilection)
can align with looking slim;
in fact, you’ll see this when I trim.”
“Why would you shear perfection?”
110301
MYSTICS’ MYSTERY
If everything were innocent,
how could anything be wrong?
And why, if this premise were right,
does it seem to most humans so wrong?
110230
SLEEPER (for Arianna)
Arianna needed sleep
and, at last, she got it.
Now she's its ambassador—
whoever would have thought it?
110229
TRADE WARS
Books,
overproduced and devalued,
have become the kindling
of their own immolation—
reduced, like their authors,
to a dwindling status:
used as loss leaders
in the battle for readers.
110228
NATURAL SHOCKS
Freely weep,
rail, moan.
Pain
is a runestone
in a language
not yet known.
110227
“GETTING” MY WAY
NO! to that.
OH! to this:
I’m happy and healthy
and strong and free and rich.
YES! to what is so:
the one and only bliss.
110226
OSCARS (for Paula)
When you have
a front-row seat,
life is good,
life is tweet.
[ASIDE: Reply to Paula Poundstone who tweeted:
“I’m gonna tweet the #Oscars like a goddamned bird.”]
YOUR OWN DECISIONS
Some will like them.
But, for those who won’t,
you’re damned if you do,
damned if you don’t.
[ASIDE: FB comment on other comments to an Oprah
OWN show announcement.]
110225
MORAL SUPPORT
Into judgment and pride I easily slide
but when I choose to let these errors go by,
my willingness gets amplified;
there, but for the God of Grace, go I.
110224
TRENDING NOW
A sort of quirk,
(I’ve lately noticed)
affects my social network:
more Facebook posts
and fewer Tweets
are penned.
Is there meaning
in this trend?
110223
WARM WISHES
Like and for
everyone—
all I want
is a place
in the sun.
HARD, HARD TIMES
Hard times are coming.
Nerves tense; pulses quicken;
we feel it in our bones.
Hard, hard times are coming;
no bones about it,
we feel it in our bones.
But we are poised to conquer.
Here's what we must do:
joined together as one body,
brain and heart and muscle through.
T.L.C.
Little One beside me,
softly making little purrs,
does the Great One
tend to my needs,
as I tend to tending yours?
MEDITATORS
You have to lose
your mind (said one)
to find just-breathing’s
so much fun.
OUT-SOURCERY
Even if God
didn’t care for us,
except through us—
that alone
would be magical.
* * *
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Adventure and Speculation
* * *
110222
MIDDAY NAP
Someone wearing white stockings,
petticoats, and a gold silk pinafore
is tumbling down a long, cushiony hill.
Lying in bed and viewing this,
I know it’s me, gently bouncing down
from lush spring-green heights,
skimming over golden tufts
of autumn grasses, and approaching
a long, gentle out-of-view slope
that will end abruptly and culminate
in something wonderful or tragic.
110221
NEWS OF THE DAY
People- and earth-
quakes rumble.
Dictators and buildings tumble.
Thinkers fumble.
Doers stumble.
The world is all a-jumble
[ASIDE: Uprisings in the Middle East,
Earthquake in New Zealand.]
110220
JUST DO IT
Coax bad habits
down the stairs?
Slow-mo tweeze
your nasal hairs?
110219
CAT: A TONIC (for Butterscotch)
What once was merely preferential
now is clearly near-essential:
a daily dose of cat to schmooze
(it hardly matters whose).
110218
"WHY" GENERATION (for Allan)
Why are unanswerable
questions the ones I pose?
Why, why, why
am I obsessed with those?
110217
IN BRIEF
Why use
long words?
Short will do.
Short is better;
four-letter…
three-letter…
look, too, to two.
PLAY, MATES!
To kinder spirits,
it’s one big garten.
THINKING ABOUT
NOT THINKING
I was born.
I talked.
I stopped to think.
Now I think
it may be better
not to talk,
not to think.
Such emptiness
may well be
death’s birth canal.
110216
CLOUDS FORMING
“Such a pretty sunrise—
but enjoy it; this may be
the only sun we see today.”
“What—are there more?”
PEACE BY PEACE
When belief causes grief,
this may make some sense:
seek contrary evidence.
110215
TREAD LIGHTLY
I don’t know what happened
to elicit this—but, dang!
“Don’t insult me, mister!
I’m the quiet type with fangs.”
[ASIDE: Encountered on Twitter.]
A WALK IN THE “PLARK”
That’s when play and work
run together indistiguishably
(walk together; same thing).
GOOD WRITING (for Christopher)
Take a simple story
with characters
you care about.
Tell it well. No doubt,
your readers will care too.
Face your fears.
Accept help, insights,
feedback, and advice.
Join others who
struggle like you.
Get unserious;
make it fun.
Go nuts!
Keep it simple.
Be bold.
Write with guts.
[ASIDE: Comment/synopsis made at:
http://www.fuelyourwriting.com/
power-of-words-the-kings-speech-and-good-writing/]
110214
LOVE IS BLIND
Chocolate candy, pink lace hearts,
red-red roses, cupid darts…
From dollar store to galleria,
valentine excess overflows.
Bows and arrows, ribbons and bows…
Surely, everybody knows...
had it been a fresh idea
(something neither myth-icized,
love-aligned, nor cute-ified)—
cupid would be stupid.
DEAR YOU… LOVE, ME (for Darby)
Beyond this world’s illusion,
we are in collusion...
enacting love’s inclusion.
Love is all we are.
Love is all we do,
even when not meaning to.
LOST IN THE MIDDLE
I like to piddle.
I like to twiddle.
I like to not make up my mind.
Or else, I find,
I like to make it up one way,
then down another,
again and again and again.
I like to piddle
and twiddle and fiddle—
but why? That’s the riddle.
NEW MEMBER (for LeaAnn)
“LeaAnn Van Winkle-Gisler”
…now, THAT name is a whistler!
How many other times
ya think this “LeeAnn” rhymes?
110213
DAY? OH!
Sun.
Him come.
Him wake up
everyone.
110212
RIGHT?
To believe a belief,
one has to believe
all contrary evidence
lies.
LEAD ON
How will You direct my day today;
what will You have me do?
How will You invite, incite;
what will You move me to?
NOT ALL THAT UNEXPECTED
Why do scientists keep discovering
fabulous things like quarks and quasars,
black holes, and distant planets?
Because we keep thinking them up.
[ASIDE: Some posit that the universe is made of thought
and keeps extending outward from our consciousness
as the range of our thought increases.]
DESIGN SPECIFICATIONS
My latest rabbit hole
(a logo design contest)
was a lost cause
from the get-go.
So I got-gone—
or at least
my prospects did
(which means I’m still snagged).
Well, I will submit my superb
(trust me) entry anyway,
sure that it will be disqualified
on a technical technicality—
specifically, my lack of
the specific technology needed
to produce the design
in a specific software format.
But I can hardly call this
a “lost weekend"—
the difficulties were such
a satisfying challenge.
[ASIDE: My determination to do my best, once I’d launched,
resulted in a submission that did meet the design specifications—
thanks to contributions of knowledge and expertise by
some of my artist friends… may they be blessed!]
110211
AS EXPECTED
“What if?”
That’s the most
wonderful wonder.
What if… I’m okay?
What if… it’s okay?
What if it’s okay
if I’m okay
with whatever is?
110210
QUI SUM
Throwing off fear,
shame and sham,
I claim myself.
I say who I am.
PIQUANT
To a poem,
time is spice.
Read it slow.
Read it twice.
DEFLATED
Sixteen inches this morning,
compared to twenty yesterday:
a too-quick collapse of our
wonderful snow soufflé!
COLD, HARD
LIGHT OF DAY
Last night, I placed paper
and pencil by my bed.
In the dark, I wrote a poem.
There was no pencil lead.
NOLA PRIMA DONNA (for Valerie)
Alligator... hurricane...
you'd think she was a bold one.
No, she's mean and vain;
she taunts;
she flaunts good fortune.
She's the cold one!
[ASIDE: Valerie, my niece, contrasted her fine evening
in New Orleans with the circumstances of Arkansas relatives
blanketed under 20” of snow. Why? Because (she said) she is mean.]
* * *
110222
MIDDAY NAP
Someone wearing white stockings,
petticoats, and a gold silk pinafore
is tumbling down a long, cushiony hill.
Lying in bed and viewing this,
I know it’s me, gently bouncing down
from lush spring-green heights,
skimming over golden tufts
of autumn grasses, and approaching
a long, gentle out-of-view slope
that will end abruptly and culminate
in something wonderful or tragic.
110221
NEWS OF THE DAY
People- and earth-
quakes rumble.
Dictators and buildings tumble.
Thinkers fumble.
Doers stumble.
The world is all a-jumble
[ASIDE: Uprisings in the Middle East,
Earthquake in New Zealand.]
110220
JUST DO IT
Coax bad habits
down the stairs?
Slow-mo tweeze
your nasal hairs?
110219
CAT: A TONIC (for Butterscotch)
What once was merely preferential
now is clearly near-essential:
a daily dose of cat to schmooze
(it hardly matters whose).
110218
"WHY" GENERATION (for Allan)
Why are unanswerable
questions the ones I pose?
Why, why, why
am I obsessed with those?
110217
IN BRIEF
Why use
long words?
Short will do.
Short is better;
four-letter…
three-letter…
look, too, to two.
PLAY, MATES!
To kinder spirits,
it’s one big garten.
THINKING ABOUT
NOT THINKING
I was born.
I talked.
I stopped to think.
Now I think
it may be better
not to talk,
not to think.
Such emptiness
may well be
death’s birth canal.
110216
CLOUDS FORMING
“Such a pretty sunrise—
but enjoy it; this may be
the only sun we see today.”
“What—are there more?”
PEACE BY PEACE
When belief causes grief,
this may make some sense:
seek contrary evidence.
110215
TREAD LIGHTLY
I don’t know what happened
to elicit this—but, dang!
“Don’t insult me, mister!
I’m the quiet type with fangs.”
[ASIDE: Encountered on Twitter.]
A WALK IN THE “PLARK”
That’s when play and work
run together indistiguishably
(walk together; same thing).
GOOD WRITING (for Christopher)
Take a simple story
with characters
you care about.
Tell it well. No doubt,
your readers will care too.
Face your fears.
Accept help, insights,
feedback, and advice.
Join others who
struggle like you.
Get unserious;
make it fun.
Go nuts!
Keep it simple.
Be bold.
Write with guts.
[ASIDE: Comment/synopsis made at:
http://www.fuelyourwriting.com/
power-of-words-the-kings-speech-and-good-writing/]
110214
LOVE IS BLIND
Chocolate candy, pink lace hearts,
red-red roses, cupid darts…
From dollar store to galleria,
valentine excess overflows.
Bows and arrows, ribbons and bows…
Surely, everybody knows...
had it been a fresh idea
(something neither myth-icized,
love-aligned, nor cute-ified)—
cupid would be stupid.
DEAR YOU… LOVE, ME (for Darby)
Beyond this world’s illusion,
we are in collusion...
enacting love’s inclusion.
Love is all we are.
Love is all we do,
even when not meaning to.
LOST IN THE MIDDLE
I like to piddle.
I like to twiddle.
I like to not make up my mind.
Or else, I find,
I like to make it up one way,
then down another,
again and again and again.
I like to piddle
and twiddle and fiddle—
but why? That’s the riddle.
NEW MEMBER (for LeaAnn)
“LeaAnn Van Winkle-Gisler”
…now, THAT name is a whistler!
How many other times
ya think this “LeeAnn” rhymes?
110213
DAY? OH!
Sun.
Him come.
Him wake up
everyone.
110212
RIGHT?
To believe a belief,
one has to believe
all contrary evidence
lies.
LEAD ON
How will You direct my day today;
what will You have me do?
How will You invite, incite;
what will You move me to?
NOT ALL THAT UNEXPECTED
Why do scientists keep discovering
fabulous things like quarks and quasars,
black holes, and distant planets?
Because we keep thinking them up.
[ASIDE: Some posit that the universe is made of thought
and keeps extending outward from our consciousness
as the range of our thought increases.]
DESIGN SPECIFICATIONS
My latest rabbit hole
(a logo design contest)
was a lost cause
from the get-go.
So I got-gone—
or at least
my prospects did
(which means I’m still snagged).
Well, I will submit my superb
(trust me) entry anyway,
sure that it will be disqualified
on a technical technicality—
specifically, my lack of
the specific technology needed
to produce the design
in a specific software format.
But I can hardly call this
a “lost weekend"—
the difficulties were such
a satisfying challenge.
[ASIDE: My determination to do my best, once I’d launched,
resulted in a submission that did meet the design specifications—
thanks to contributions of knowledge and expertise by
some of my artist friends… may they be blessed!]
110211
AS EXPECTED
“What if?”
That’s the most
wonderful wonder.
What if… I’m okay?
What if… it’s okay?
What if it’s okay
if I’m okay
with whatever is?
110210
QUI SUM
Throwing off fear,
shame and sham,
I claim myself.
I say who I am.
PIQUANT
To a poem,
time is spice.
Read it slow.
Read it twice.
DEFLATED
Sixteen inches this morning,
compared to twenty yesterday:
a too-quick collapse of our
wonderful snow soufflé!
COLD, HARD
LIGHT OF DAY
Last night, I placed paper
and pencil by my bed.
In the dark, I wrote a poem.
There was no pencil lead.
NOLA PRIMA DONNA (for Valerie)
Alligator... hurricane...
you'd think she was a bold one.
No, she's mean and vain;
she taunts;
she flaunts good fortune.
She's the cold one!
[ASIDE: Valerie, my niece, contrasted her fine evening
in New Orleans with the circumstances of Arkansas relatives
blanketed under 20” of snow. Why? Because (she said) she is mean.]
* * *
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Contraries and Curiosities
* * *
110210
OATMEAL AND BANANA (for Linda)
Though oatmeal was my daily manna
(just about) with nuts or fruit,
I'd never had it with banana...
Let me send you a salute!
ONE FINALIST, MANY DREAMS
All but one will falter; fall.
Yet all will give their all.
As we watch and learn and cheer,
we, too, gain victory… over fear.
NO END IN SIGHT
No end of snow
is seen, as yet;
this sky has so much in it.
To what heights
can this snow get?
It seems the sky’s the limit.
SNOW ON SNOW
Mother Winter
lays white linens
gently on each lawn,
then (as these spoil
from soot or soil)
more layers,
and so on.
110209
TOO BUSY TO
Well, why do you think
it’s called an occupation?
LIONS’ CLUB
CHRISTMAS CARD IDEA
Front:
Picture of lions
lying down with lambs.
Inside:
Lions smile hugely as they sing:
“All we like sheep!”
110208
AND MY POINT IS?
What use am I to anyone?
Whyever was I born?
From first morn, I went
subject to my own bent—
keen to become life-wise.
Now, my age is showing
(my demise)
and my synthesized wisdom
sounds strangely flat:
“Trust your inner knowing.”
But you knew that.
VALENTINE BOUQUETS
On scarcity of flowers,
there are no reports.
Are Columbian harvests
snowed out of airports?
110207
FLIP SIDE
Yesterday I felt lonely
for a kindred creative soul.
Today I think, “How lucky!
I’m self-entertained. I'm whole.”
GONE BANANAS
We’re in a state, a state of cold
colder than Montana…
we’re low on milk and eggs and bread,
and down to last banana.
Can’t shop... not lazy;
snowed in… near crazy.
Though we have colds, no cold relief;
we’re out of cold reliever…
our cabin’s cold, but we are not;
we’re hot with cabin fever.
110206
LION JOKE (from my Inner Child)
Q: Why did the lion cross the road?
A: [See below, but try to answer for yourself first.]
FOR STARTERS (for Mary and Clyde)
Thank you, Mother,
Thank you, Dad,
for taking care of me—
giving me a life-long sense
I’m loving, loved, and free.
VIGIL
Why don’t I want to go to bed?
Why don’t I want to sleep?
Something’s rising in my mind,
something buried deep.
LONELY MOOD
Some children
play with others
or with invisible friends.
I make do with no one.
Please,
someone make amends.
KID JOKE (from my Inner Child)
Q: Why did the lion cross the road?
A: To get to the other pride.
[ASIDE: This came via writing with my left hand.]
110205
DAWN’S EARLY LIGHT
Snowscapes turn
from pearl to peach
everywhere the sun can reach.
SEASONS APART
Winter spells are hard;
we know, because
we’ve fought ‘em.
It may be May
at top of stairs;
it’s January at bottom.
PRISM ESCAPE
Color
rainbows dark to fair—
but where? Midair?
In eye? In brain?
Out there?
110204
ICY HOT
Yestiddy (a snowy day),
my poe-min’ mighta chilled—
but, suprizinly, did not.
In fact, it went th’other way.
I wuz bizzy, I wuz thrilled—
O, hunny, I wuz hot!
* * *
110210
OATMEAL AND BANANA (for Linda)
Though oatmeal was my daily manna
(just about) with nuts or fruit,
I'd never had it with banana...
Let me send you a salute!
ONE FINALIST, MANY DREAMS
All but one will falter; fall.
Yet all will give their all.
As we watch and learn and cheer,
we, too, gain victory… over fear.
NO END IN SIGHT
No end of snow
is seen, as yet;
this sky has so much in it.
To what heights
can this snow get?
It seems the sky’s the limit.
SNOW ON SNOW
Mother Winter
lays white linens
gently on each lawn,
then (as these spoil
from soot or soil)
more layers,
and so on.
110209
TOO BUSY TO
Well, why do you think
it’s called an occupation?
LIONS’ CLUB
CHRISTMAS CARD IDEA
Front:
Picture of lions
lying down with lambs.
Inside:
Lions smile hugely as they sing:
“All we like sheep!”
110208
AND MY POINT IS?
What use am I to anyone?
Whyever was I born?
From first morn, I went
subject to my own bent—
keen to become life-wise.
Now, my age is showing
(my demise)
and my synthesized wisdom
sounds strangely flat:
“Trust your inner knowing.”
But you knew that.
VALENTINE BOUQUETS
On scarcity of flowers,
there are no reports.
Are Columbian harvests
snowed out of airports?
110207
FLIP SIDE
Yesterday I felt lonely
for a kindred creative soul.
Today I think, “How lucky!
I’m self-entertained. I'm whole.”
GONE BANANAS
We’re in a state, a state of cold
colder than Montana…
we’re low on milk and eggs and bread,
and down to last banana.
Can’t shop... not lazy;
snowed in… near crazy.
Though we have colds, no cold relief;
we’re out of cold reliever…
our cabin’s cold, but we are not;
we’re hot with cabin fever.
110206
LION JOKE (from my Inner Child)
Q: Why did the lion cross the road?
A: [See below, but try to answer for yourself first.]
FOR STARTERS (for Mary and Clyde)
Thank you, Mother,
Thank you, Dad,
for taking care of me—
giving me a life-long sense
I’m loving, loved, and free.
VIGIL
Why don’t I want to go to bed?
Why don’t I want to sleep?
Something’s rising in my mind,
something buried deep.
LONELY MOOD
Some children
play with others
or with invisible friends.
I make do with no one.
Please,
someone make amends.
KID JOKE (from my Inner Child)
Q: Why did the lion cross the road?
A: To get to the other pride.
[ASIDE: This came via writing with my left hand.]
110205
DAWN’S EARLY LIGHT
Snowscapes turn
from pearl to peach
everywhere the sun can reach.
SEASONS APART
Winter spells are hard;
we know, because
we’ve fought ‘em.
It may be May
at top of stairs;
it’s January at bottom.
PRISM ESCAPE
Color
rainbows dark to fair—
but where? Midair?
In eye? In brain?
Out there?
110204
ICY HOT
Yestiddy (a snowy day),
my poe-min’ mighta chilled—
but, suprizinly, did not.
In fact, it went th’other way.
I wuz bizzy, I wuz thrilled—
O, hunny, I wuz hot!
* * *
Friday, February 4, 2011
The Lions' Share
* * *
110203
GREETING CARD IDEAS
FOR MY LIONS CLUB
We heard your news…
NOT BAD, NOT BAD!
In fact, it makes us
GRANDLY GLAD!
You may be strong.
You may be smart.
BUT…
You’re our friend
‘cuz you got HEART!
We’re smiling WIDE
and roaring LOUD!
Your Lion pride
is Lion PROUD!
Your LION friends are on alert.
We don’t LIKE it when you hurt!
Our concern will not end
till you’re well… till you mend.
The one you lost,
so dear to you,
was our friend…
We hurt, too.
CONGRATULATIONS!
We’re happy for your happiness
and wish you even more success.
GET WELL SOON!
We want you well
We want you strong.
We’re glad you’re on the mend.
We want you back
where you belong.
We want you back again.
Our club sometimes is like a zoo,
but when you hurt, we hurt too.
Do you miss us? Well, we miss you!
If you want to know the truth,
we miss you like a missing tooth.
When one of us is sick or sore,
how we WISH we could do more
than fuss and faunch and rant and rave
…and ROAR!
We heard that you are sick in bed.
We WISH that you were here instead.
SHARING YOUR SORROW
We grieve with you
and share your loss.
Life, so priceless,
has such cost.
IN SYMPATHY
We are among the many
who share your pain and loss.
We, too, grieve
and feel bereaved.
LION and LAMB…
Now there’s a pair
who learned to form a bond!
We LION friends
know ‘bout your KID.
Already, we feel fond!
We heard there was an operation
with you as a leading star.
We assume its success
with nary a flub;
we've seen you in action
supporting our club...
What a smooth operator you are!
* * *
110203
GREETING CARD IDEAS
FOR MY LIONS CLUB
We heard your news…
NOT BAD, NOT BAD!
In fact, it makes us
GRANDLY GLAD!
You may be strong.
You may be smart.
BUT…
You’re our friend
‘cuz you got HEART!
We’re smiling WIDE
and roaring LOUD!
Your Lion pride
is Lion PROUD!
Your LION friends are on alert.
We don’t LIKE it when you hurt!
Our concern will not end
till you’re well… till you mend.
The one you lost,
so dear to you,
was our friend…
We hurt, too.
CONGRATULATIONS!
We’re happy for your happiness
and wish you even more success.
GET WELL SOON!
We want you well
We want you strong.
We’re glad you’re on the mend.
We want you back
where you belong.
We want you back again.
Our club sometimes is like a zoo,
but when you hurt, we hurt too.
Do you miss us? Well, we miss you!
If you want to know the truth,
we miss you like a missing tooth.
When one of us is sick or sore,
how we WISH we could do more
than fuss and faunch and rant and rave
…and ROAR!
We heard that you are sick in bed.
We WISH that you were here instead.
SHARING YOUR SORROW
We grieve with you
and share your loss.
Life, so priceless,
has such cost.
IN SYMPATHY
We are among the many
who share your pain and loss.
We, too, grieve
and feel bereaved.
LION and LAMB…
Now there’s a pair
who learned to form a bond!
We LION friends
know ‘bout your KID.
Already, we feel fond!
We heard there was an operation
with you as a leading star.
We assume its success
with nary a flub;
we've seen you in action
supporting our club...
What a smooth operator you are!
* * *
Snow Day Play
* * *
110202
OBLITERATED
When you're young
and take things literally,
news can be so cool!
"Yesterday it snowed.
Today there is no school."
[ASIDE: Original title was CANCELLATION
but readers tended overlook the import.]
ALONE TOGETHER
It’s true—the thought
that ought to be outrageous:
cabin fever is contagious!
BOOKING AGENT
From among the many beside my bed,
I chose a book—to back the torn-open
envelope on which I prepare to write.
Ethan, recognizing poem-mode
when he sees it, asks, “What’s up?”
“I’d been dreaming I was with Oprah
on her show, talking poetry;
that’s sure to launch a poem.”
Shifting my writing materials slightly,
I catch sight of the book’s title and its
implications: The Magic of Thinking Big.
FOUR-PHASE FROST
Kitty catches sight of snow.
Kitty says, “Me-oh!”
* * *
Kitty starts to pine and pout.
Kitty says, “Me-out!”
* * *
Kitty chills, in every paw.
Kitty says “Me-aw!”
* * *
Kitty sees the snow anew.
Kitty says, Me-eeewww!
THAT MY CAT
her a beauty
her a wonder
her got moods
like snow and thunder
her have fur
her make purr
when her run,
her just a blurr
when her sleep,
some sweet angel
when her stir,
some kinda devil
sometime share
sometime plunder
that my cat
some kinda wonder
CHILD AT HEART
Saying
that I love Her ways.
Asking
not to be afraid.
Believing
He is wise and true.
Curious
about taboo.
Gazing
at the world She made.
Hoping
I will stay amazed.
Thinking
He may be a fraud.
This is how
I play with God.
SNOWFLAKES
Like you—
we come,
we play,
we melt away.
WINTER SKY
I see blue;
icy blue.
NAMASTE
Here is where I am,
so here is where I start...
sharing who I am,
sharing from the heart.
* * *
110202
OBLITERATED
When you're young
and take things literally,
news can be so cool!
"Yesterday it snowed.
Today there is no school."
[ASIDE: Original title was CANCELLATION
but readers tended overlook the import.]
ALONE TOGETHER
It’s true—the thought
that ought to be outrageous:
cabin fever is contagious!
BOOKING AGENT
From among the many beside my bed,
I chose a book—to back the torn-open
envelope on which I prepare to write.
Ethan, recognizing poem-mode
when he sees it, asks, “What’s up?”
“I’d been dreaming I was with Oprah
on her show, talking poetry;
that’s sure to launch a poem.”
Shifting my writing materials slightly,
I catch sight of the book’s title and its
implications: The Magic of Thinking Big.
FOUR-PHASE FROST
Kitty catches sight of snow.
Kitty says, “Me-oh!”
* * *
Kitty starts to pine and pout.
Kitty says, “Me-out!”
* * *
Kitty chills, in every paw.
Kitty says “Me-aw!”
* * *
Kitty sees the snow anew.
Kitty says, Me-eeewww!
THAT MY CAT
her a beauty
her a wonder
her got moods
like snow and thunder
her have fur
her make purr
when her run,
her just a blurr
when her sleep,
some sweet angel
when her stir,
some kinda devil
sometime share
sometime plunder
that my cat
some kinda wonder
CHILD AT HEART
Saying
that I love Her ways.
Asking
not to be afraid.
Believing
He is wise and true.
Curious
about taboo.
Gazing
at the world She made.
Hoping
I will stay amazed.
Thinking
He may be a fraud.
This is how
I play with God.
SNOWFLAKES
Like you—
we come,
we play,
we melt away.
WINTER SKY
I see blue;
icy blue.
NAMASTE
Here is where I am,
so here is where I start...
sharing who I am,
sharing from the heart.
* * *
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Winter Sprouts
* * *
110201
PRE-SNOWSTORM
Dear media,
be speedia.
Politics, crime, gossip, sports...?
We want weather reports!
110131
MAIS NO! MAIS OUI!
Pleasure means feeling good.
Guilty means feeling bad.
In truth, can people claim
“guilty pleasures” they've had?
The terms are oxymoronic,
separate as vinegar and oil—
but, if egged on, they may (oh!)
merge in a marriage royal.
110130
A LITTLE NUTHIN’
Pomes make homes
fer minds, I think.
Sum o’ them are logs.
This’n is a chink.
110129
HEALTH FOOD FORAYS
In the aim of health and the form of seeds,
I bought some chia for my pet,
by which I mean my husband;
he who claims that sprouts are weeds
and the taste of pulses repulses.
Pre-diabetes has him hexed
and I'm sure he's wondering what is next
in the way of seeds and weeds.
Though I don't plan to feed him vetch,
I'm keen he be keen on quinoa.
110128
EARLY THANKSGIVING
An early wake, an early rise,
comes today as a surprise—
a gift to squander or invest;
to rust-and-rest or do my best.
So, using pen as my voice,
I choose to make my highest choice
of how to spend this interlude:
a litany of gratitude...
for every person in my life,
for my role as someone's wife,
for health and wealth and soul and mind,
for Nature's wonders, and Divine.
110127
AT THE CLUB
Round and round,
we're walking laps;
we don't want
our health to lapse.
Round and round,
laps on laps;
laps on laps
till we collapse.
110126
UNEXCEPTIONAL
EXCEPTIONS
In every season,
come unseasonable days—
extra hot or cold.
For some reason,
people seem amazed
when such days take hold.
110125
DEAR CATS
Thank you, cats,
for something new
(especially a certain
one of you).
How long’s it been
(one week? or two?)
since you’ve mis-placed
your pee or poo?
110124
PRE-DIABETES
Do not let this
be defeating.
Master wholesome
ways of eating.
110123
TROUBLES, KNEE DEEP
"My knees, my knees,"
he groans. "I don't know if I can
make it to the top of the stairs
with these knees."
"Well, don't leave them
at the bottom," she protests.
"I'll be sure to trip over them."
110122
THE RAISING OF THE BAR (for Susan)
We had a peek, this week,
at a friendly small-town town,
one that deserves renown:
Morrilton.
So solicitous of us
were the people there,
they raised the bar on care.
"Thanks. Well done."
* * *
110201
PRE-SNOWSTORM
Dear media,
be speedia.
Politics, crime, gossip, sports...?
We want weather reports!
110131
MAIS NO! MAIS OUI!
Pleasure means feeling good.
Guilty means feeling bad.
In truth, can people claim
“guilty pleasures” they've had?
The terms are oxymoronic,
separate as vinegar and oil—
but, if egged on, they may (oh!)
merge in a marriage royal.
110130
A LITTLE NUTHIN’
Pomes make homes
fer minds, I think.
Sum o’ them are logs.
This’n is a chink.
110129
HEALTH FOOD FORAYS
In the aim of health and the form of seeds,
I bought some chia for my pet,
by which I mean my husband;
he who claims that sprouts are weeds
and the taste of pulses repulses.
Pre-diabetes has him hexed
and I'm sure he's wondering what is next
in the way of seeds and weeds.
Though I don't plan to feed him vetch,
I'm keen he be keen on quinoa.
110128
EARLY THANKSGIVING
An early wake, an early rise,
comes today as a surprise—
a gift to squander or invest;
to rust-and-rest or do my best.
So, using pen as my voice,
I choose to make my highest choice
of how to spend this interlude:
a litany of gratitude...
for every person in my life,
for my role as someone's wife,
for health and wealth and soul and mind,
for Nature's wonders, and Divine.
110127
AT THE CLUB
Round and round,
we're walking laps;
we don't want
our health to lapse.
Round and round,
laps on laps;
laps on laps
till we collapse.
110126
UNEXCEPTIONAL
EXCEPTIONS
In every season,
come unseasonable days—
extra hot or cold.
For some reason,
people seem amazed
when such days take hold.
110125
DEAR CATS
Thank you, cats,
for something new
(especially a certain
one of you).
How long’s it been
(one week? or two?)
since you’ve mis-placed
your pee or poo?
110124
PRE-DIABETES
Do not let this
be defeating.
Master wholesome
ways of eating.
110123
TROUBLES, KNEE DEEP
"My knees, my knees,"
he groans. "I don't know if I can
make it to the top of the stairs
with these knees."
"Well, don't leave them
at the bottom," she protests.
"I'll be sure to trip over them."
110122
THE RAISING OF THE BAR (for Susan)
We had a peek, this week,
at a friendly small-town town,
one that deserves renown:
Morrilton.
So solicitous of us
were the people there,
they raised the bar on care.
"Thanks. Well done."
* * *
Saturday, January 22, 2011
The Usual Gamut
* * *
110121
DIABETES AND YOU (for Jaime)
Diabetes comes from DNA
and from the way you work and play.
Diabetes comes from what you eat,
especially food too fat or sweet.
Diabetes makes you drink and pee,
plus, it affects how well you see.
It makes you tired, it numbs your feet.
Let's make this sickness obsolete.
Do not be a diabete!
[ASIDE: Jaime made a presentation on diabetes
and footcare to our Lions Club.]
110120
COFFEE PRE-JUNKIE (for Lizzie)
Medicate your head?
Why do what you will rue
and later struggle to undo?
Meditate instead.
110119
PLEASE EXPLAIN
Who is this person who,
in photos and in mirrors,
looks pillowy, marshmallowy,
and billowy, but who,
inside, feels willowy?
110118
THE EVERYDAY VARIETY
For better or for worse,
I make and fill my own thirst;
when I want a poem, I write a verse,
and—best of all—get to read it first!
DEMISE SURPRISE (for Sargent)
Someone just died
at age ninety-five.
People keep dying
not known still alive.
110117
WINTER WAKING
Winter-haze tonal grays
can make moon-sky
bright as noon-sky
and early wakers wonder
whether morning
is coming or glowing.
110116
DRAFT HORSE
I’m workin’ on
a long, long pome;
plowin’ long and steady.
It’s gonna be
a hard, hard pome;
I’m tired of it already.
A BOUT
Clouds out-crowd.
Clouds attack.
Sun’s uncowed by bully clouds—
through a crack, it slips back.
Then it puts those clouds to rout.
Sun is back.
Sun is out.
How does this come about?
Sun, no doubt, has more clout.
110115
EMBRACING THE SHADOW
[ASIDE: Under construction. This long poem
will take a while to complete and edit.]
110114
PROGRESSION
Winter is kind,
and ever more bright;
as she suspends heat,
she extends light.
OFFSPRING
You greased it, eased it,
cursed, birthed, and nursed it.
You raised it, praised it,
groomed it, pruned it.
You composed, concocted,
and spun it;
and it looks so easy
once you've done it.
110113
WHEN?
Bundled up
one way or another
season after season
people are waiting
people are holding in;
bundled up
one way or another
season after season
bundled up as babies
people are holding on
looking to each other
each waiting for the other
waiting for release
bundled up and waiting
waiting for a reason
or just for an excuse.
110112
WINTER BLISS (for Connie)
Perfectly
simple serenity:
me on bed
in sunlight spotlight;
cat on me.
110111
BLIND REFLECTIONS
Emma dear, Emma wise—
what’s inside those Emma eyes?
I see, in them, myself reflected
but mine are not, to you, a mirror.
I see in yours myself reflecting
why mine are not, for you, a mirror.
Emma dear, Emma wise—
what’s inside your Emma eyes?
110110
POETRY
Not the words but the way;
no specific thing you say.
It’s the truth told by the lie,
the do not know that answers why.
110109
BEAUTY MARKS
A few of the nuns
(let's not say which ones)
had—let us say—
facial blemishes
which, in any case,
they bore with good grace,
helping us know
what God cherishes.
MOMENTOUS
In this now,
my struggle’s
through.
World, …I am
at peace with you.
OBIT
Poet:
probed deeply,
wrote long,
reportedly died of
stub wounds.
WEB OF DECEIT
E-linked, business-network friends
keep recommending further friends,
but to claim these, one must state
form of relationship to date.
For the terms sites recommend
(classmate/colleague/client/friend),
how to answer is hard to guess—
there’s no sort of, just no or yes—
and these implied acquaintanceships
foster false pre-lationships.
110108
SLEEP-IN
I wake today
when the birds untree
and rise to flock.
I wake to the sun
and not to the clock.
BRIEF SANCTUARY
They’re our cats
but we root for the mice,
one of which
was discovered today
dried and flattened
under an out-of-the-way rug.
Poor baby is now a mummy.
110107
ISP’S
Once the computer
was an extension of us;
now that’s vice versa…
and it keeps getting
wersa and wersa.
110106
GOOD DAY
Up, groom, eat,
then out the door.
Drive, arrive, work, drive,
and eat some more.
Catch the mail.
Write a pome.
Good day:
good away, good at home.
110105
FLURRY OF HURRY
Flit-flit-flit;
I’m in a tizzy—
not a state of zen!
But it’s nice
to be so busy—
every now and then!
110104
COOL CATS
Winter cold gives no pause
when outdoor freedom beats cold paws;
“Let us out!” our cats insist.
Icy blasts don’t deter
those brisk excursions they prefer
(and, in truth, cannot resist).
110103
HOW I SEES IT
Once agin, I awake
to butt of cat in my face.
Cat don’t mean to offend.
Naw, an' mine's the “livin’ end!”
110102
APPLICANT (for Hermann)
With a wink,
I will state
if I’m asked:
I can think,
I can wait,
I can fast.
[ASIDE: Siddhartha's résumé.]
* * *
110121
DIABETES AND YOU (for Jaime)
Diabetes comes from DNA
and from the way you work and play.
Diabetes comes from what you eat,
especially food too fat or sweet.
Diabetes makes you drink and pee,
plus, it affects how well you see.
It makes you tired, it numbs your feet.
Let's make this sickness obsolete.
Do not be a diabete!
[ASIDE: Jaime made a presentation on diabetes
and footcare to our Lions Club.]
110120
COFFEE PRE-JUNKIE (for Lizzie)
Medicate your head?
Why do what you will rue
and later struggle to undo?
Meditate instead.
110119
PLEASE EXPLAIN
Who is this person who,
in photos and in mirrors,
looks pillowy, marshmallowy,
and billowy, but who,
inside, feels willowy?
110118
THE EVERYDAY VARIETY
For better or for worse,
I make and fill my own thirst;
when I want a poem, I write a verse,
and—best of all—get to read it first!
DEMISE SURPRISE (for Sargent)
Someone just died
at age ninety-five.
People keep dying
not known still alive.
110117
WINTER WAKING
Winter-haze tonal grays
can make moon-sky
bright as noon-sky
and early wakers wonder
whether morning
is coming or glowing.
110116
DRAFT HORSE
I’m workin’ on
a long, long pome;
plowin’ long and steady.
It’s gonna be
a hard, hard pome;
I’m tired of it already.
A BOUT
Clouds out-crowd.
Clouds attack.
Sun’s uncowed by bully clouds—
through a crack, it slips back.
Then it puts those clouds to rout.
Sun is back.
Sun is out.
How does this come about?
Sun, no doubt, has more clout.
110115
EMBRACING THE SHADOW
[ASIDE: Under construction. This long poem
will take a while to complete and edit.]
110114
PROGRESSION
Winter is kind,
and ever more bright;
as she suspends heat,
she extends light.
OFFSPRING
You greased it, eased it,
cursed, birthed, and nursed it.
You raised it, praised it,
groomed it, pruned it.
You composed, concocted,
and spun it;
and it looks so easy
once you've done it.
110113
WHEN?
Bundled up
one way or another
season after season
people are waiting
people are holding in;
bundled up
one way or another
season after season
bundled up as babies
people are holding on
looking to each other
each waiting for the other
waiting for release
bundled up and waiting
waiting for a reason
or just for an excuse.
110112
WINTER BLISS (for Connie)
Perfectly
simple serenity:
me on bed
in sunlight spotlight;
cat on me.
110111
BLIND REFLECTIONS
Emma dear, Emma wise—
what’s inside those Emma eyes?
I see, in them, myself reflected
but mine are not, to you, a mirror.
I see in yours myself reflecting
why mine are not, for you, a mirror.
Emma dear, Emma wise—
what’s inside your Emma eyes?
110110
POETRY
Not the words but the way;
no specific thing you say.
It’s the truth told by the lie,
the do not know that answers why.
110109
BEAUTY MARKS
A few of the nuns
(let's not say which ones)
had—let us say—
facial blemishes
which, in any case,
they bore with good grace,
helping us know
what God cherishes.
MOMENTOUS
In this now,
my struggle’s
through.
World, …I am
at peace with you.
OBIT
Poet:
probed deeply,
wrote long,
reportedly died of
stub wounds.
WEB OF DECEIT
E-linked, business-network friends
keep recommending further friends,
but to claim these, one must state
form of relationship to date.
For the terms sites recommend
(classmate/colleague/client/friend),
how to answer is hard to guess—
there’s no sort of, just no or yes—
and these implied acquaintanceships
foster false pre-lationships.
110108
SLEEP-IN
I wake today
when the birds untree
and rise to flock.
I wake to the sun
and not to the clock.
BRIEF SANCTUARY
They’re our cats
but we root for the mice,
one of which
was discovered today
dried and flattened
under an out-of-the-way rug.
Poor baby is now a mummy.
110107
ISP’S
Once the computer
was an extension of us;
now that’s vice versa…
and it keeps getting
wersa and wersa.
110106
GOOD DAY
Up, groom, eat,
then out the door.
Drive, arrive, work, drive,
and eat some more.
Catch the mail.
Write a pome.
Good day:
good away, good at home.
110105
FLURRY OF HURRY
Flit-flit-flit;
I’m in a tizzy—
not a state of zen!
But it’s nice
to be so busy—
every now and then!
110104
COOL CATS
Winter cold gives no pause
when outdoor freedom beats cold paws;
“Let us out!” our cats insist.
Icy blasts don’t deter
those brisk excursions they prefer
(and, in truth, cannot resist).
110103
HOW I SEES IT
Once agin, I awake
to butt of cat in my face.
Cat don’t mean to offend.
Naw, an' mine's the “livin’ end!”
110102
APPLICANT (for Hermann)
With a wink,
I will state
if I’m asked:
I can think,
I can wait,
I can fast.
[ASIDE: Siddhartha's résumé.]
* * *
Monday, January 3, 2011
Winter Mix
* * *
110101
NEW YEAR’S DAY
This day—
ostensibly about time,
but falling as it does
on a date of no particular
astronomic significance—
should serve as a reminder
that names of things
and ideas about things
often obscure the
nature of things.
101231
STAY OF EXECUTION
Leaves are dancing
up from the ditches
this warm December day,
resurrected by swirling
winds of protestation;
the year, apparently,
is not ready to die.
101230
LEFTOVERS
Those both old and bereft
cling all the tighter
to what is left.
101229
PROBLEM PEOPLE
Why are they
so difficult; so stubborn;
so unwilling to capitulate
to our superior wisdom—
and why,
when we visit their houses,
must we suffer the meagerness
of their offerings?
101228
CURE-ATOR
God,
have you any therapy
for the pain of being,
and of being me?
Such therapy is yours alone,
for the pain you’re feeling
you create and own.
When you think as I,
pain will go away:
“I’m okay. You’re okay.”
___________
Today I found this poem note,
dated 091025:
wind
shepherds
leaves
across
road
101227
TO YOUR HEALTH
Happiness
involves a task
and, no, it isn’t drinking;
before you think
a thought again—ask,
“Is that thought
worth thinking?”
101226
UPWARD PATH
“Guide my way,”
I again consent.
To renew ascent,
I renew assent.
101225
THE GIFT OF THE PRESENT
No matter, hopes of Christmas Future
or joys of Christmas Past;
we are Guests of Christmas Present,
which can hardly be surpassed.
101224
PAMPERED
My sweetie makes me coffee.
He brings me toast and jam.
He claims that I’m his honey
and makes me glad I am.
101223
DESIGNER
TOUCH
Life is kinder
than we think
or can think;
when we notice,
we call this
serendipity.
101222
COMING APART
AT THE SEEMS
All I know I know
is how things seem to me,
including this self-same me
that seems to seem to be.
101221
SEASON GREETING
Ah! My favorite time of year
when I enjoy—and wish for you—
a very and most-merry,
thrilling, dance-enhancing,
whoppingly exciting,
gleeful, cheerful new debut
of joyous Christmas shopping.
101220
RELIEF IS ON
THE WAY
A nightmare
is a lie you keep
until you rouse
your self from sleep.
Suspect there are
(to be let go)
“truths” you know
that are not so.
101219
EXASPERATION
Emma has been banished
from the bed
in hopes she’ll use a
proper pee-place instead.
101218
WHAT I LIKE
I like to go, I like to do,
I like to think and write, and then
I like to go and do it all again.
101217
DIS-BANDED
What is a ring to a marriage?
I lost mine yesterday,
trying to keep it safe.
My hand
mourns like an orphan;
my heart grieves like a waif.
What is a ring to a marriage?
I lost mine yesterday,
trying to play it safe.
[ASIDE: As instructed, I put all my jewelry in my pocket
before touring a food-processing plant. Several events later,
my wedding ring was the only item that had somehow escaped.
The loss prompted thoughts about priorities, spouses, possessions, etc.]
101216
NO GOOD CHOICE
Setting the alarm for five
wakes you up at four.
But if you didn’t set it,
at six you’d be a-snore.
101215
INTIMIDATIONS
OF MORTALITY
My cat puts his face
near mine each night,
then (sometime later)
his rear—
which means
that I begin each day
knowing the end is near.
101214
OLD AGE BENEFITS
I'm old—trust me—
but young enough to thrill
to a birthday card from my mom
with a twenty-dollar bill.
101213
DECISIONS,
DECISIONS
Colon or semi?
I haven’t a clue.
Maybe a dash
or comma will do.
If you think prose
is hard, well—foo!
just try poems;
they’ll try you.
* * *
110101
NEW YEAR’S DAY
This day—
ostensibly about time,
but falling as it does
on a date of no particular
astronomic significance—
should serve as a reminder
that names of things
and ideas about things
often obscure the
nature of things.
101231
STAY OF EXECUTION
Leaves are dancing
up from the ditches
this warm December day,
resurrected by swirling
winds of protestation;
the year, apparently,
is not ready to die.
101230
LEFTOVERS
Those both old and bereft
cling all the tighter
to what is left.
101229
PROBLEM PEOPLE
Why are they
so difficult; so stubborn;
so unwilling to capitulate
to our superior wisdom—
and why,
when we visit their houses,
must we suffer the meagerness
of their offerings?
101228
CURE-ATOR
God,
have you any therapy
for the pain of being,
and of being me?
Such therapy is yours alone,
for the pain you’re feeling
you create and own.
When you think as I,
pain will go away:
“I’m okay. You’re okay.”
___________
Today I found this poem note,
dated 091025:
wind
shepherds
leaves
across
road
101227
TO YOUR HEALTH
Happiness
involves a task
and, no, it isn’t drinking;
before you think
a thought again—ask,
“Is that thought
worth thinking?”
101226
UPWARD PATH
“Guide my way,”
I again consent.
To renew ascent,
I renew assent.
101225
THE GIFT OF THE PRESENT
No matter, hopes of Christmas Future
or joys of Christmas Past;
we are Guests of Christmas Present,
which can hardly be surpassed.
101224
PAMPERED
My sweetie makes me coffee.
He brings me toast and jam.
He claims that I’m his honey
and makes me glad I am.
101223
DESIGNER
TOUCH
Life is kinder
than we think
or can think;
when we notice,
we call this
serendipity.
101222
COMING APART
AT THE SEEMS
All I know I know
is how things seem to me,
including this self-same me
that seems to seem to be.
101221
SEASON GREETING
Ah! My favorite time of year
when I enjoy—and wish for you—
a very and most-merry,
thrilling, dance-enhancing,
whoppingly exciting,
gleeful, cheerful new debut
of joyous Christmas shopping.
101220
RELIEF IS ON
THE WAY
A nightmare
is a lie you keep
until you rouse
your self from sleep.
Suspect there are
(to be let go)
“truths” you know
that are not so.
101219
EXASPERATION
Emma has been banished
from the bed
in hopes she’ll use a
proper pee-place instead.
101218
WHAT I LIKE
I like to go, I like to do,
I like to think and write, and then
I like to go and do it all again.
101217
DIS-BANDED
What is a ring to a marriage?
I lost mine yesterday,
trying to keep it safe.
My hand
mourns like an orphan;
my heart grieves like a waif.
What is a ring to a marriage?
I lost mine yesterday,
trying to play it safe.
[ASIDE: As instructed, I put all my jewelry in my pocket
before touring a food-processing plant. Several events later,
my wedding ring was the only item that had somehow escaped.
The loss prompted thoughts about priorities, spouses, possessions, etc.]
101216
NO GOOD CHOICE
Setting the alarm for five
wakes you up at four.
But if you didn’t set it,
at six you’d be a-snore.
101215
INTIMIDATIONS
OF MORTALITY
My cat puts his face
near mine each night,
then (sometime later)
his rear—
which means
that I begin each day
knowing the end is near.
101214
OLD AGE BENEFITS
I'm old—trust me—
but young enough to thrill
to a birthday card from my mom
with a twenty-dollar bill.
101213
DECISIONS,
DECISIONS
Colon or semi?
I haven’t a clue.
Maybe a dash
or comma will do.
If you think prose
is hard, well—foo!
just try poems;
they’ll try you.
* * *
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