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).]


* * *