Everyday Poet

Thinking About It...

2011-07-31T12:00:00.000-07:00

* * *

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?

* * *

What Changes, What Doesn't

2011-05-09T09:24:00.000-07:00

* * *

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

2011-05-09T09:02:00.000-07:00

* * *

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).]

* * *

Challenging Times

2011-04-11T20:57:00.000-07:00

* * *

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.

* * *

Moonshine

2011-03-25T18:27:00.000-07:00

* * *

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.

* * *

Mundane Magic

2011-03-22T19:39:00.000-07:00

* * *

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.

* * *

Adventure and Speculation

2011-02-22T18:13:00.000-08:00

* * *

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.]

* * *

Contraries and Curiosities

2011-02-09T17:24:00.000-08:00

* * *

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!

* * *

The Lions' Share

2011-02-04T08:41:00.000-08:00

* * *

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

2011-02-04T08:30:00.000-08:00

* * *

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.

* * *

Winter Sprouts

2011-02-01T12:14:00.000-08:00

* * *

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."

* * *

The Usual Gamut

2011-01-22T09:31:00.000-08:00

* * *

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.]

* * *

Winter Mix

2011-01-03T16:35:00.000-08:00

* * *

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.

* * *

Age—It's All the Rage

2010-12-12T19:24:00.000-08:00

* * *

101213

DECISIONS,
DECISIONS

Colon or semi?
I haven’t a clue.
Maybe a dash
or comma will do.

You think prose
is hard? Well, foo!
Just try poems;
they’ll try you.

101212

EARTH DAYS

“What a party;
but look at the hour!”

“Hey, old folks!
Yeah, hey YOU—
what are you
still doing here?”

“Frankly, we
don’t have a clue.
Take it up with
your Higher Power.”

101211

AS IS

Mean. Funny.
Friendly. Sad.

Of people,
little kids
don’t think
should be,
shouldn’t be.
What they
think is—is.

101210

WISDOM AND GRACE

Youth is the time
when life’s blessings are granted—
and taken for granted.

Old age is the time
when (to those who haven’t
already become wise)
life grants its greatest
understanding and blessing—
appreciation.

101209

IMPERMANENCE

Frost and green grass?
That won’t last long!

101208

UNBLEMISHED

Snarl, bite, curse,
do far worse;
my soul knows yours
as lustrous, pure.

The more troublesome
you become
(the more you break the rules,
attempting to break out
of the broken state you’re in),
the more you win
the love I’ve won myself
and now can do no other
than to offer.

101207

CARTOON AVATARS

One friend is a little stinker;
another, a happy cat.
There's a turtle, a top-cat, a martian—
and what-the-sam-heck is THAT?
There's a smiley one, a wiley one,
a minnie and a mighty one.
One's ghostly, one's speedy, one's jolly,
and one is blue, by golly.
There's a loopy one, a boopy one...
and I'm the snoopy artist one.

101206

CHRISTMAS PARADE

Winter dark and winter cold
seek something wondrous to behold:
like this festival of sound and light
that sparkles ‘round the town tonight.

Flatbed trucks transform to floats.
Beauty queens forego their coats.
Boom-boom-BOOM! The band plays loud.
Everyone’s enchanted… proud.
And there are angels in the crowd

101205

BEST FEATURE

Ours is a too-cold,
too-warm house.
It’s fairly open,
so we go barefoot
in the upstairs rooms
and sweatered down below.

One wall consists of windows
a full two stories high.
It only costs some northern cold
to view that northern sky.

101204

"SOCIAL" GROUPS

From surprise to frustration
and, ultimately, prayer;
group interactions
so often take me there.

101203

LOWER-CRUST
REBELLION

Don't call us crass,
or second class,
or dumb.

Don’t press us
under thumb.

We’ve been peons
for eons;
now that’s done.

You say cream floats—
but so does scum.

101130

THEY KNOW NOT
WHAT THEY DO

People
make so many people
miserable,
insisting on making them
happy.

101129

DEATH’S DOOR

Am I completely—
or just partly—mortal?

To my knowledge,
I’ve not yet
crossed that portal.

101128

LATEST TOPIC

Old age this.
Old age that.
What’s the fascination?

Discovery,
at least by me,
that it’s dilation,
not contraction.

101127

FEASTS FOR THE SENSES

Delights! Delights!
Everywhere and every when—
from last song of swan
to first note of wren.

Something’s always brewing.
Something’s always cooking.

Surely you haven’t stopped looking!

101126

IN WINTER COLD

Some written warmth
can be a shawl,
or a filling-in
of a chink in a wall.

101125

JO’S GIRLS (for my sibbles)

Five Little Peppers—
how they grew!

We wanted
to be like them, too;
poor and loving,
curious, bold.

We grew those ways,
and also old.

101124

MY COY MUSE-TRESS

I asked her help, a little.

She asked me a riddle:
What rhymes with "muse?"

"Come on, come on!"
she laughed. "Refuse!"

101123

FINALLY
QUALIFIED

Think about it—
if anybody’s
going to
explore and
write about
old age;
don’t you think
it should be
an old person?

101122

MIRROR MIRAGE

When I press upward
on my cheeks,
my younger face is there;
a toppled doppelgänger.
I must be careful not to stare.

101121

MINOR SHIFT

Once there was
a little girl
who loved to
(not write!) color.

Now she writes,
most every day,
some little thing
or other.

101120

HUMANS BEING

Their thoughts and acts stay bloody,
but reasons why stay muddy.
They fiercely study, but scarcely guess,
the whys of their perniciousness.

101119

RETRACTIONS

I don’t put pomes
on my action list
but very rarely
are they missed,
(except for times
when I’m feeling dull;
then, much I write,
I quickly cull).

* * *

Pets and Predicaments

2010-12-06T11:38:00.000-08:00

* * *

101118

COUNTER POINT

"Tick-tock," goes the clock
that hangs on the wall.

"Tock-tick," claims another
just down the hall.

"Ding-dong, both wrong!"
a third chimes in.
"I am music; you're just din."

101117

ESCAPEES

There's a mouse in the house,
I suspect—just look how
this bedroom is wrecked.

A chipmunk’s misplaced—
this I know—brought in by the cat.
Where'd it go?

101116

COUNTING THE MINUTES

Muse, it's 5:19 a.m.
That's awfully late.
Was I stood up?
I thought we had a date.

101115

PERCHANCE TO DREAM

Things get precious,
just by being rare—
like that thing that knits
the raveled sleeve of care.

101114

MEDITATION
DIRECTIONS

“Breathe—slow—in,
through the nose,
to a count of seven;
hold another count,
then let it out—
through the mouth—
at that same pace.”

(Then pass out?
Nothing was given
about when
to breathe again.)

101113

LOVE TAKES A TOLL (for Emma)

A year of your pet's life
equals seven of yours.
(About.)
(Depending.)

Life with a cat or dog
(a typical choice)
can be heart-rending
as it grows up—
for how it acts up
and what it gets into.

On a cat, you cain't
impose restraint
or, on a cur, a curfew.

Pets take a toll.

This formula occurs:
For every year of your pet’s life,
take off one of yours.

101112

DOUBLE DOWN

I thought “depressed”
meant sad and bad,
but now I know—
it just means low
and oh… so… slow.

101111

QUESTIONS
OF TALENT

Did I—do I—
have a gift?
Did I lose it?
Am I hiding it
even from myself?

101110

IN POEM COUNTRY

Up with the chickens,
then up with the owls;
I’m not one
to throw in the towel.

A poem is something
to not postpone;
I could write ‘em
till the cows come home.

101109

SIMPLE MINDED

You are there.
I am not.
That's the thought
I just thought.

101108

SORCERER’S APPRENTICE

Leonard Cohen, for a poem,
used a book of rhymes.
I use one for mine; that’s the scoop.

Here’s my favorite group:
aquatic, chaotic, despotic,
erotic, exotic, hypnotic,
narcotic, neurotic,
psychotic, quixotic, robotic

Building blocks, rhyme-words are—
keys-and-locks, gears for clocks,
ingredients for a cake;
myriad combinations
for myriad things to make—
including exotic spells to cast
and chaotic spells to break.

101107

IT WASN’T MUCH

“A walk in the park,”
that’s what they say—
and that’s what it was:
an easy cliché.

It wasn’t much—
nothing arduous,
explosive or clutched;
nothing that transcends.

It wasn’t much—
a casual outing
by two casual friends.
It wasn't much—

before our fingers touched.

101106

HEY, SANTA! (for Trevor)

This, for you,
should be a breeze—
put brake pads
in my stocking, please.

101105

I GIVE UP

Clothes, money, attention,
opinions, encouragement, advice,
aggravation…

It doesn’t seem to matter;
no matter what I give,
I get more than double in return.
What gives?

101104

EMPATHY NO MORE

I know you’re
upset about something
and I know you want me
to get upset along with you.
But I don’t want to.
Getting upset
makes me upset.

101103

OPERATIONAL LIMITS

Medicine, what is your tonic,
your remedy for grief?
What can you offer as relief
for pain, intense and chronic,
in bodies already half-bionic?

101102

CLOCKING OUT

Summer birds are seen no more;
sky is emptiness galore;
northern winds grow whippy;
days turn short and nippy;
jewel-toned leaves
that crowned the trees
have browned or blown away—
the year is calling it a day.

101101

BARGAINING WITH MY CAT

“Give me some inspiration,
Scout—to write about;
I’m in the mood.”

“Hmm. Well, don’t be rude;
give me something in return.
I’m in the mood for food.”

* * *

Fear and/or Sanity

2010-11-01T16:29:00.000-07:00

* * *

101031

CUED TO FOOD

Am I hungry? Am I not?
How to tell, I forgot.

I eat on cue (from them, me, you).
Sometimes the cue is them, me, you.

I eat whenever prompted to.
Can there be a way not to?

101030

FRIEND OF A FRIEND
(for Andy)

Zounds,
the man does astound!
Happy birthday,
Ezra Pound.

FEAR AND/
OR SANITY

All is well on the Mall
(here as well—all, all, all).

101029

OPEN GATE

The you
that you are meant to be
is now— at least, can be.

It’s not too late;
why wait?

LET GO

I had a job but it got zapped
and now my energy is sapped.
I feel so tired, but not from toil—
more like a frog that’s slowly boiled.

STRENUOUS DREAMS

Each morning begins
as a wake-up, an emergence,
a recovery from dream-trials
of the night—
trials of exploration,
trials of evaluation,
trials of endurance.

Each morning begins
as an achievement.

101028

NEWLY BEFRIENDED
(Poems through my left hand.)

Let me be your poet.
Let me write your words.
Let me change your heart to sky
and all your thoughts to birds.

* * *
Tell you what…
let’s be friends.
Life is play
that never ends.

* * *
My way
is
the high way.

* * *
Here’s what
every finger knows:
the heavy work
is done by toes.

* * *
Sleep is what
a body needs.
"Sleep!" is what
this body pleads.

* * *
Cat on bed—
be careful, please!
Some cats sleep.
This one pees.

* * *
Oh, me. Oh, my!
Oh, my. Oh me!
She came with the name
Sweet Trouble,
but should be called
Sweet Pee.

[ASIDE: Written with my left hand
in a befriend-your-body exercise.
The premise is that doing so improves
contact with the creative right side of the brain.
Also, Emma-cat has begun to think the bed is her
new pee-place, freshly laundered after every use.]

101027

OH, GOOD NIGHT!

“Bats in the belfy,
worms in the books,”
somebody said.
“Bugs in the bed!”

“Rent the belfry.
Lease the books,”
another said.
“But—oh, good night!—
don’t let the bed;
bugs bite!”

101026

EMPTY EYES

How we hurry—
how unwise—
with unfilled hungers,
empty eyes.

101025

VOIDED

What I take up,
I set down.

What takes me up
sets me down.

That is the cycle.

I am handmaiden
to nothing.

[ASIDE: I’d just listened to a TED talk by Elisabeth Gilbert
on creativity and decided to loan this time/space/venue
to my daemon/genius/muse: “Here, say something.”]

101024

SLOW STARTER

Sunday
is my lazy day
(more so than the others).

The best part
is to read in bed
(or just stay under covers).

101023

FOREVER FUTURE

Two futures
are furiously unfurling:
bliss and misery.

Two futures
are furiously unfurling,
or seem to be, eternally.

101022

COCOA CAMO

Hi, Mom, where ya been?
I been hidin’. Look, it’s me!
Wanna lick my cheek or chin?
I been busy—come an’ see.

[ASIDE: Written in response to an on-line photo challenge.]

Love of What Is

2010-10-23T20:56:00.000-07:00

* * *

101021

LIFE’S A BREACH

Breakthrough
can be double win:
breakthrough out,
breakthrough in.

101020

CATERED TO

Ah, here comes the morning;
something brings the sun.

Someone brings me coffee;
blessings on that one.

101019

WELL SERVED

Not only am I blessed,
but able to tell
how blessed I am:
Alive and well.

101018

LUNCHBOX PARADOX

Self, must I send you back to school?
A sweet is not a healthy treat.
And don’t forget Prime Diet Rule:
The more you eat, the more you eat.

101017

CAELUM IN TERRA (for Fay Jean)

One joy
(so long longed-for)
life graciously sends…
one long conversation
with one long-time friend.

101016

WEEKEND, WITH FRIEND

Nothing is an effort;
all is light and grace.
In our time together,
things just fall in place.

101015

CONSTANCY

Over and over
life answers its own quiz,
sometimes with fizzle,
sometimes with fizz—
always conveying
love of what is.

AL FRESCO (for Fay Jean)

Sundown
on the terrace—
a spectacular view,
wine, food, conversation…
all of this, and you.

101014

TROWELING IT ON

My work grows ever more concise
as my time grows shorter.
Once I placed a brick a day;
now, little more than mortar.

101013

NOS IAM VICTORES

We
who are about to die
salute ourselves.

101012

ADS SUBTRACT

I rarely mention politics,
not because it’s fiddlesticks,
sleight-of-hand, or lies-and tricks;
campaign ads just leave me blitzed.

101011

TIME, WELL, SPENT

There always seems
so much to do—
so forgotten
once I’m through.

* * *

Jo'z Julz

2010-10-10T11:56:00.000-07:00

* * *

101010

DERE FRENDZ

I ain't twitterd in a wile,
nor writ no poem neether.
Ever now an then (like you)
I jest needz a breether.

101009

RESCUE?

A tablespoon of mouse—
that’s how big it was,
and not yet torn or injured
by tomcat teeth or claws.

I thought it wouldn’t last a day.
It refused to eat,
making every force-feed ploy
a sadly futile feat.

This is the third evening.
Still, mousey lingers on
while Something
toys with each of us
and moves each as its pawn.

101008

eBAY

No “try” applies
when I buy—
but how the hell
shall I sell?

101007

PLAY-PRETTIES

Suddenly,
I’m a fool for jewels
and all awhirl
for mother-of-pearl.

101006

SHOPPING TRIPPED

A blouse in need of buttons,
that’s how it began—
an excursion to a thrift store
to look, to search, to scan;
earrings and a necklace,
purchases unplanned.
Somehow, crafting jewelry
became my heart’s demand.

101005

EXTENDED VACATION

Suit yourself. I don’t care.
I’m in the land of laissez-faire—
I went to visit; I’m still there.

Under my skin? In my hair?
Not one bit. No, I swear.
Suit yourself. I don’t care.

101004

EVERYDAY POETRY

My rule is—
write a poem on the day,
about the day,
or about a thing
that’s everyday...
so it’s okay,
more than perhaps,
to play my way:
to later fill in gaps.

ASIDE: …especially since it can be so hard
and time-consuming to write a poem at all.
Make-up poems can be even more difficult.

101003

TREES THAT PLEASE

Orange-gold
beneath bold blue—
October oaks,
we’ve pined for you.

101002

“DREAM” CHALLENGE

Muse, dear muse,
I dream of you—
even when
instructed to.

101001

HIGH AND DEEP

Each year brings us lows and highs
(greeted, both, by deep-breathed sighs)
and few highs are more highly prized
than deeply blue October skies.

100930

NACRE

naked beauty

iridescent
opalescent

beauty named
an ugly name

100929

GLORY US!

Glory at night.
Glory at morn.
Glory—all glory!—
that we were born.

100928

DAFT FOR CRAFT

Muse,
I make confession.

Out of the blue
(if not from you),
I have a new obsession.

100927

ERRATIC

yesternight:
a restless night

a restless night
again tonight

a restful night
would set this right

so wistful for
a restful night

100926

STUMPED

I wish...
I want...
I might like…
I would choose to…
I could make a difference by…
My ideal life would be like…
I wish.
I want.
I do?

100925

THE ONE EXCEPTION

I’d rather pet a cat
than write a poem;
I’d rather cook a meal
than write a poem;
I’d rather go shopping
or visit a friend
or read a book
or watch buzzards fly
than write a poem—
except, that is, when
I’m writing a poem.

100924

BEACHED

Lately,
the ebb and flow
of the ebb and flow
seems to ebb and flow
just fine without me.

100923

EVEN THE PAST EVOLVES

Was it this way—or that?
What didn’t I know—then or later?
What do I not know now?

The story of my life
changes with each telling.

Now, even when I try to tell it true,
I have to keep my fingers crossed.

* * *

Short and Sweet (Mostly)

2010-09-22T23:25:00.000-07:00

* * *

100922

SENSE-LESS

I watch near-blinded as,
from the round of its bucket,
the sun drops molten light
onto evening waves.
I must be near-deaf as well,
hearing no hiss of steam.

100921

MELLOW

I feel peace
(though no push or pull)
and cannot say
whether I’m empty or full.

100920

“THE” ANSWER

It’s all
so simple, really—
so really simple,
I simply forgot.

100919

INCOMING MESSAGE

What fool would be awake
and writing at one a.m.?
Besides myself, I mean.

100918

CONFECTION

Love it all
for its own sake;
the peace of God
is a piece of cake.

100917

AHHHH – HA!

Brilliant!
Utter simplicity.
Why am I happy?
Because I want to be!

100916

MIS-HEARD

You didn’t hear
the thunderstorm?
No, I was asleep.

Dreamin’?
Uh-huh… freezing…
back in Korea…
and other demons, too.

ARRIVAL

Things come e-mail;
things come snail.
Things come true, too,
like that, from you.
(The check was in the mail.)

100915

MOTIVACATION

I know I care;
I care a lot.
I’m just not sure
what about.

100914

FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE

Friends, friends, friends—
whatever we’re in for,
we’re in it as friends.

100913

FORCED
REMOVAL

Cat gave
the bed
another douse—
that’s why
she’s now
in the doghouse.

* * *

Waiting, Thinking, Being

2010-09-12T17:44:00.000-07:00

* * *

100912

LADY IN WAITING

Life becomes—as I grow old—
not too tame, not too bold;
not too hot, not too cold.
I’m holding onto a life on hold.

100911

FÊTE ACCOMPLI (for Brent and Lizzie)

Groom and bride
became husband and wife.

For family, friends, and community,
it was all a wedding should be—
a celebration of connection,
an affirmation of love and life.

100910

STILL NOT SURE

I’m not sure why.
I’m not sure how.
I got a job, a car, a mate,
a house to clean and decorate.
Meow, meow,
I got a cat.
I did all that.
Now it’s late.
What do I do now?

100909

NIGHTLY NOOSE

The world is dying.
What can I do?
The media says
I’m dying too.

100908

INTUIT INTO IT

Let me give you
some advice:
don’t think once,
much less twice.

100907

PARCHED

What's that sound,
I hope and wonder—
the approach of
distant thunder?

100906

MORNING MISSED

A sad morning.
The cat who always
escorts our
newspaper retrieval at dawn—
the cat who always
comes when called—
did not escort,
did not come.

Always is not
always always—
at least, is no longer,
which explains how
a sad morning gave way
to a happy afternoon.

100905

SAID AT SUNSET

Please teach me.
Teach you what?

What I need to know.
Why do you need to know?

Hmmm.
Please teach me that.

100904

DAYS DAZED

Time to do,
but little action—
lost my way,
my bearings,
traction.

100903

SYSTEMS ERROR

The downturn
will upturn,
the entrepreneur advisor
advises.
Be ready:
millions, billions
can be made
on one well-made trade.

Well,
why is it well
for any
to take so much
from so many?

100902

CHARMING

At one neighbor house
they quit feeding their pets,
leaving two mama cats
and three kittens to survive
or starve on their own.

Another neighbor
took up the slack.
Three of the cats
(two of them, babies)
have no tails—
he calls them minxes.

100901

SLOW PAY

Work,
no work,
work again.

Money,
no money,
money—
but when?

* * *

Yours, Mine, Hours

2010-09-05T08:12:00.000-07:00

* * *

100831

LOVE ME, LOVE MY

Books, movies,
restaurants,
car shows, lectures,
favorite haunts.

Yours and mine,
mine and yours—
hours and hours
have made these ours.

LET IT FALL

September,
please
do.

Do not refrain.

Please,
September,
bring us rain.

HIATUS

A change of pace,
a time of grace—
a day with no
“to do” to do.
Except refresh.
Except renew.

100830

HELP! HELP!

“Here I come
to save the day!”

That means
that Mighty Muse
is on the way.

100829

FRISCO FEST

An August Saturday
with a touch of breeze;
a taste of fall.

We walk and walk
without regard to knees.
It’s a car show, after all.

100828

ENOUGH

Here I am.
Stopped.
Empty.
Alone with everything.
Understanding nothing.

Pain, puzzlement,
pleasure, peace—
indistinguishable.

To whom
do I sing
my death song?

100827

A PRINCE
OF A FRIEND (for Mike)

Spirit unbroken,
as body allowed
he ran his life’s course.

Now,
there’s a hole
in the world
in the shape
of a horse.

QUIT

To live:
to die
to death.

100826

RX: R&R

My brain
has lost its head
of steam.

Let it rest.
Let it dream.

“COMPLETE” JOY

Frisky as a kitten,
happy as a pup—
at least on this work item,
I’m at last caught up!

MIDDLE WHITTLE

Life keeps getting harder;
tougher day by day.
Some keep busy working
while others take their pay.

100825

WACKY WHACK

Summer heat got out of whack—
then, like some mad and mythic cat
that arched so high it broke its back,
it lost its power to attack.

100824

THIS TUESDAY

Days are like friends.
You have to know ‘em.
Be attentive; show it.

Here’s a day
that calls for a poem,
if you happen to be a poet.

100823

LIFE TIME

It’s all a gift.

No need or reason
to deserve it.

No way to save it
or reserve it.

No means to keep it
or conserve it.

Just enjoy it
and observe it.

* * *

Rough Seas

2010-08-22T17:56:00.000-07:00

* * *

100820

‘TIS! – ‘TISN’T! (for Alan)

Who can see—you or me?
Which is right—day or night?
Which is wrong—short or long?
Who knows true—me or you?

100819

AS A HUMAN

This is my source
of conflict, pain and sorrow:
attachment to opinions
even I will change tomorrow.

100818

NO FRIEND
MORE TRUE

Mate and friend,
you’ve lived with me awhile
and always gone the extra mile.

Life with me can be a trial,
though I don’t mean it to—
to make amends, is there
something I can do?

Yes, you can.
Be you.

100817

THE DEFENSE
NEVER RESTS

You let us down,
they said today.
It hurts so much
what others say.

Sometimes it’s wrong,
sometimes unfair.
Sometimes it’s right;
that’s hard to bear.

It hurts so much
what others say.
I just want
to be okay.

JUST INFORMED

No. Not that!
My heart
went splat.

100816

SELF HEALING

You hurt bad
and don’t know why,
but this will help:
have a good cry.

100815

MAYBE IT IS FUNNY

My nose looks like
a case of rot
with sores that ooze
and will not clot
plus mucous
that I have to blot.
Snot can be
a real hot-shot
at healing sores,
but my snot’s not.

OVERBORED

Do not scout
the deck for me.
I’m lost.
I’m lost.
I’m lost at sea.

[ASIDE: Actually, less bored than challenged,
but still lost.]

100814

WANT ADS

CDL Driver.
No.
Tax Preparer.
No.
Dental Assistant.
No.
Message Therapist.
I’m on it!

100813

ASYLUM

A thought escaped
as I walked the hall:
“I love her.
God, I love her!
I love them all.”

100813

WITH LOVE AND GRATITUDE

If penned up as a refugee,
I would have the sky;
if dungeon-locked,
a place to lie.

If the bounty I’ve been handed
were stripped off like a glove.
I would still have memory.
I would still have love.

FLAW IN MY CRAW

My work is good
(far from disaster).
If only I could
master faster.

SNAGGED

Next time you’re with your yogi,
rabbi, priest, or shrink,
ask him for me, will you,
how we’re supposed to think.

Do we stalk each nascent thought
like a hypochondriac a cough?
Do we wring the meaning out
or shut the darned thing off?

* * *

Pressure, Pleasure, Pain

2010-08-13T16:47:00.000-07:00

* * *

SACRED VEHICLE

“Thou shalt not tempt
the Lord, thy God.”

I used to think that meant
don’t beg for Aladdin’s cave,
don't ask that a dead stick
erupt in rose blossoms.

Now I think it means
take care of your body;
you don’t get a replacement
(at least not the same
make and model).

CELESTIAL SODA POP

(was there ever a tune so aptly named?)

(it’s worth a lifetime to hear it)

(wordless ... and also beyond words

(yet the title says it all)

(wrong, the music does)

(hush, everyone… encore!)

ASIDE: When the subject of personal theme songs
came up this week, I was sure mine was Bob Seeger's
about "I'm older now but still runinn' against the wind."
Then I remembered Celestial Soda Pop.

PREMATURELY
INDUCED

Delivery
can go easy
some say—
some, with experience.
(Breathe. Just breathe.)

I am due
to deliver…
or be delivered.
(I’d gladly gestate
on those phrases awhile.)

Pressure
is coming to bear.
(More gestation.)
I have no epidural.

MANAGEMENTAL

I have modes of attention:

One: utter focus.
Two: blocked.
Three: flit-flit-flit.
Four: forget-forget-forget.

When left to my own agenda,
I manage well.
When deferring to another’s,
I manage. Well…

I DARE NOT LAUGH

I have a cold sore rimming my right nostril.
This is August, so call it a heat sore.
Every time I smile, it cracks and weeps and enlarges.
I really think it’s impetigo,
which pleases me by association with babies.
It looks gross, like a squash-bug sized booger,
which pleases me by association with young boys
who know how to revel in grossness.
It is spreading to my upper lip
and I envision wearing a mustache to disguise it,
which pleases me by association with Groucho Marx
and Charlie Chaplin and all my hero comedians.
Now, if it were only funny.

GOOBER

I forgot.
Natural peanut butter
doesn’t stick just to
the roof of my mouth;
it sticks to my throat.

GOBBLEDY SPOOKED

The more
I say things
(especially, the more I exhort),
the more it all sounds like
gobbledygook,
or whatever gobbledygook word
they’re using these days.

INTERNALIZING

I didn’t notice
that the strawberry
in my left hand
was the size
of the heart
of a red-tailed hawk
until I made
a first slice
into its ventrical.
I should have
swallowed it whole.

100811

SHOWER

Ahhhh.
Water on,
balanced cold to hot.
How must it seem
for one,
used most of his life
to be clean,
to not?

INCLUDE HIM IN

Any man
who can take it in stride
when a coworker
incorrectly asks to take a shortcut
by riding his skirttails
is definitely welcome
at our impromptu
gal’s potluck.

Salad, Bill?
A few strawberries?

TOLL

I can’t decide
if this is funny—

When people say,
“I would pay
to do this,”
I think they
just mean money.

CRAZY FOR YOU (for Ethan)

We met, we talked,
we made a pact—
I and you—and you
became my school.

For you, for you,
I would act the fool—
and not even have to act.

MISSION FROM GOD

My daily duty and obsession
is like that “Blues Brothers” thing.
Everything else is
optional or expendable.

100810

HOME, HOME,
HOME, HOME, HOME

refuge
comfort
sanctified zone

launchpad
anchor
heart-and-hearth stone

floors
walls
roof or dome

grace
delight
us
our own

EMPLOYMENT
AGENCY

Exterminator wanted?
I’m here to apply
for the poisition.

Etiquette coach wanted?
I’m here to apply
for the poisition.

[ASIDE: From a typo in a job ad.]

100809

THE CORE

More
seek to seek it
(to explore)
than know it.
Wander more.
Quest
is at the core:
the province
of the poet.
Ponder.

COME AS YOU COME

Would I stuff you in a box
and tie you up with string?
Would I cram you in a mold
or pin your dainty wings?

Would I force you to behave
like a robot or a slave,
or cast you as a victim
while I played the roguish knave?

Would I shove you on the stage
and force you to compete?
Would I make you toe the line?
Would I bind your precious feet?

ASIDE: As I thought of the effrontery of trying to force
a poetic inspiration into a predetermined line-and-meter form,
this one came to me easily and just about complete. It does
not strictly toe the line.

SPECULATION

My body will go on
as long as it does
and I really don’t think
it will mind when it dies.
As for my mind,
it doesn’t mind now.

ABOUT THAT REQUEST…

Saying now,
“Can’t you give me
a few more hours
in this day?”

. . .will that be
much different than
saying, later,
“Can’t you give me
a few more hours
in this life?”

100808

DEAR DIVINE POET,

Given the late hour
and long day,
which of these
would you do:
go to bed and sleep
or edit poems
from earlier scribbles?

Oh, You are so wise!
But that is why
You are You
and I am …not.

FOLLOWING THE CALL

With the dark
that leaves at dawn,
swiftly, corporeally,
he is gone.

All too soon
will come the day
when corporeally only,
he will stay.

WOMAN OF A CERTAIN AGE

People died today.
I wasn’t one of them.
Am not. Yet.
Not quite yet.
But there are intimations:
mortality tables,
losses, lapses.

People died today.
Most, I think, tried not to.
But I can’t be certain.
I wasn’t one of them.

WHAT I’M ABOUT

One: oneness.
Two: diversity.
Three: gratitude.
Oh, forgot poetry!

ENTERPRISE

Thank you kindly,
Captain Kirk,
but my reward
is my work.

100807

OMNIA FUGIT

“Sic transit gloria mundi.”
Need translation? I’m equipped—
“Certain grasps must be ungripped.”

Un exemplum:
My fresh manicure is chipped.

LIFE LONG

Time for play
is playing for time:
being ex-tension
creates extension.

RIGHT LIVELIHOOD

I ask, am told,
seem shy, am bold.
And what I have
outvalues gold.

DOUBLING UP

My life’s lopsided.
I like it that way.
I overlap
my work and play.

SMALL COMFORT

When I was little,
I didn’t know what to say
to old ladies either.

FASCINATING

Poems come easier now,
I guess because…
everything
is an opening
into something
fascinating.

CACTUS FLOWER

You asked.
I tell.

To dance my dance
and sing my song
means...
love that well
which must be left
ere long.

100806

WAGON MAKER

I knew a man,
challenged
in fundamental ways,
who stumbled through
his crazy maze
of hazy days
in strangely able ways.

DIVERSITY
IDENTITY

Dearest Sir,
Dearest Ma’am,

Bonnet, helmet,
cap or tam—
how can I
pick a hat style
if I don’t know
who I am?

[ASIDE: Did a diversity exercise that involved
expressing individuality through hat choices.]

MAKES NO SENSE

When things don’t flow
or do your bidding,
you gotta know:
“Life is what happens while
you’re making other plans.”

Oh, is that so:
what you “just know”?
You gotta be kidding!
Who has time for making plans?

WIN! WIN! WIN! —
NOTHING ELSE LIKE IT

Cheerleaders by the dozens,
swirling and twirling about
Then the mascot Razorback;
bristles and tusks and snout.

Roaring crowds
scream and shout
calling for a win, a rout.

Powers that be, have empathy.
Please be Soooie generous.

[ASIDE: I overheard someone enthuse today
about the thrill of attending her first Razorback games.]

BARE, RUINED, MIRED

That time of mind
thou mayst in me behold
when mellow thoughts
are none, or few, or old.

POME RITING

let them come
let them come
let them come
just
let them come

APPARITION

gracefulest mama
delicatest fawn

stilty legs,
swishy tails

lithely, quickly
gone

TOP OF MOUNTAIN?
BOTTOM OF WELL?

We all may ask
where ideas come from,
but none of us can tell.

100805

SHORT
POME

Most times
my thoughts
are short.

This time
I’m short
of thoughts.

CANTABILE

Lifelong, I pondered,
“For what music am I meant?”
then learned, with wonder,
“I am my own instrument.”

100804

THREE HOURS SLEEP

The first half of the night,
I scanned the house
for a lost document, but my
searching turned up nothing.

The second half of the night,
I scanned my mind
for that same lost document,
but memory turned up nothing.

Oh, the document turned up
eventually:
when I turned up the lid
of the scanner.

* * *

Work and Play

2010-08-03T20:01:00.000-07:00

* * *

100803

CAST

Some of us get the glory.
Some of us do not.
A starring role,
for some of us,
is to advance the plot.

100802

BRAINPOWERLESS

My brain froze up,
and I would not wait
till it thawed out;
so my brain burned up
and I have to wait—
‘cause it’s thought-out.

100801

BACKLOG
UNCLOGGED

Tackled chores
sun to sun.
Tired and proud.
Taxes done.

100731

OPTICAL
DELUSION

I bought a book
on mandalas
and now I sit and stare
with empty mind
at images
I’m not quite sure
are there.

100730

SOMETHING
TO BE DONE

Does something
need a headline or a title?
Here I am. I can! I can!

Does someone
need a slogan or a logo?
Here I be. Let me! Let me!

100729

REPURPOSING

Life and death. Night and day.
Beauty when not seen that way.
Sad-faced clowns and those that smile.
My life’s purpose: reconcile.

(Good grief, good gall, good glory!
My checkbook, if you took a look,
would tell another story.)

100728

PREMONITION

If I should die before I wake
or before I see you again,
I love and loved you, each and all—
my neighbors, friends, and kin.

MORTAL

…because
nothing good
lasts forever.

100727

PEARLS BE FOR SWINE

1
When writers whine,
“me, my, mine,” I scoff.
These gems, so fine,
on which we dine, all come
from the same trough.

2
Are pigs greedy?
No, indeedy!
Pigs would plead
they’re merely needy.

3
Here’s a thought and it’s a dilly—
if a hog became a lily,
that would be so not-so-silly!
(Lily-of-the-field-type lily:
that’s the one I meant. Yes, really.)

WHY WORK?

Work can be an ogre.
Work can be a friend.
I most like the friendly part:
when it meets its end.

EEEEEE!

EOD
EOM
EOY
EOL

FLIP SIDE

Everything ends.
Everyone dies.
Thinking on this,
I’ve become wise.

Death is just life
in other guise.
Nothing can end.
Nobody dies.

How do I know?
I have my spies.

100726

STRAY THOUGHT

Why is it called
mind
when it doesn’t?

100725

POSITIVELY NOT

I kept saying yes
‘cause I wanted to learn.
“Yes, oh yes!”

But what do you think
I eventually learned?
Come on, guess!

I learned how to yearn
to learn to say yes
far, far less!

WORK CAPACITY

For those with experience,
I have a query.
How far does “I love it!”
(applied to work) carry?

Please hurry an answer;
I need to know—
to schedule a time
to “unstring the bow.”

100724

PITHY UNDER PRESSURE

Some write who know. Others, for show.
Some merely bluster and blow.
All may, or may not, have deadlines.

My heroes, though?
Anonymous souls
who flow with the “Go!”
writing subtly ingenious headlines.

100723

YO, YOU!

Ya, you’re the one
I’m talkin’ to.
Who d’ya think—
a kangaroo?

100722

SPEAKING FOR MYSELF

There’s a certain truth
only experience brings:
that inception of fear
is conception of things.

100721

CHALLENGE

It will be hard.
It can be fun.
Best of all,
It will be done.

100720

CONTEMPLATIVE

My ideal, my sublime—
and, yes, I would tend
to my duties and oughts—
is a simple life
with plenty of time
to think my own thoughts.

100719

ROUENS FOR A PEKIN

From home to Gentry to Elkins to home:
one and a fifth hundred miles.
The Rouens are young but large
and don’t yet have the plumage that
will distinguish them as male or female.
Unlike Boodie, they are not pond-bound
and have already made an expedition
up the road, over the hill,
to and around the people house.
Plans are underway for a duck house.

100718

TAKING MULTI-TASKING TO TASK

“Heightened freneticism,”
an author wrote, to say e-communication
doesn’t float his boat—or get his vote—
when mis-prioritized or mis-paced.

I quote:
“Try kissing more and tweeting less.”
More thinking. And more quietness.

100717

WINGING IT

Chores get done, deflected,
or rejected.
Chores get done
and more gets done,
but not what was expected.

100716

SELF-STYMIED

No matter how massive,
longstanding or dense,
there’s always a way
to breach your own fence.

100715

THINGDOM

Is ego the thing
that pines to excel
and weeps
when it doesn’t
measure up?

Is ego the thing
that panics and sulks
after inventing
its own exclusion?

Well, thing, I embrace you.
Let me offer comfort and
help you work this out;
this thing.

100714

ENTRUSTED

Why now?
Because there is
no other when.

Why me?
Because there is
no other who.

* * *

Life, Death, Work, Play—the Usual

2010-07-13T19:43:00.000-07:00

* * *

100713

REGRET

Had I but been wilder—
more daring and uncouth—
I’d not now be lamenting
my sadly mis-saved youth.

100712

DROWNPOUR

More! More! Louder!
That’s what this rain’s about.
It may not drown the frogs,
but sure can drown them out.

100711

SO NOT SO!

In my error or my pride,
I had come to think
ideas would be supplied
if I supplied the ink.

100710

MAY I BE
EXCUSED?

“My heart and loves
are mostly gone.
I’ve lived too long,”
she said. “Too long.”

100709

HORS D’OEUVRES
SAMPLER

It’s some comfort,
but not wholly—
that others mistake
wasabi for guacamole.

HE, SHE, SYNCHRONY (for Jeremy and Annie)

“With music and with flair,
you set me a fine snare—
through your daring drum, pet.”

“With music and with care,
you also set a snare—
through your blaring trumpet.”

From trumpet and snare drum—
a one and a one—this harmonious
pair, this duo, has come.

100708

EATING SMART

One diced orange,
a handful of blueberries,
three-quarters of a cup of soy milk,
and a whisk in the blender—
that smoothie began as a foamy,
then curdled to a lumpy.
Now it resembles brain matter.

100707

LEFTOVERS

Mid-July fireworks
in the neighborhood.

How many interpretations to posit?
How many moods to ascribe?

(The one who asks
still has long ago sparklers,
un-unwrapped.)

100706

POISED

Cat on lap,
pad on knee,
pencil in hand,
mind gone free—
all in balance,
exquisitely.

100705

BREAK

I love my work,
but don’t want to do it—
not right now, at least.

I want to do nothing,
lots of nothing—
nothing at all.
Just nothing.

100704

STILL SLEEPING ON IT

This five-day holiday weekend
included travel, business, friends,
and—most needed of all—sleep.
However,
I have not yet slept enough
to prepare for resumption
of whatever first created
this need of sleeping.

100703

DEADLY DULL

I don’t want to die
without knowing.

Most things
I learn how to do
just about the time
I’m done doing them.

What if
how to live life
is an exception
and I daily grow
more ignorant
of what I most
want to know?

That would be sad,
wouldn't it?

100702

IDIO-VERSE

The way I taste,
touch, smell, and see
(presby- and myopically)—
this universe will die with me.

100701

ANSWER ME THIS

Loss of sight and strength and flair.
Old age symptoms everywhere.

Weight and hair subtractions, gains.
(But what's ugly still remains.)

Absent-minded. Sleepless nights.
Hard of hearing. Other plights.

Living on less than living wage.
How do people survive old age?!

100630

CARRIED AWAY

However we are moved
(on lands that walk us,
airs that float us,
waters that boat us),
there’s always something
splendid to notice.

100629

At the mouth of the creek
at the bottom of our hill,
what but beavers
would have stripped
the bases of the trees?
Only the crepe myrtle there
may survive their bite,
already being nearly barkless.

100628

SERVICE

Nature is the friend
who, while you
chatter and flit,
brews the tea
and fills your cup.

100627

UNCOMPANIONABLE
COMPANION

Like a shadow
that never disappears
unless engulfed
by a larger one—
who is this person
constantly interfering
with my heaven—
this entity, this other me?

100626

LET IT STARVE

No! No!
Not another
blank piece of paper—
not another mouth to feed!
I don’t care if it is pink
or that the pencil is fuchsia.
I’m tapped out.
I have nothing to give.
Let it starve.

Oh, okay.
Tell you what—
I’ll trade this crumb,
if you want it,
for equal time:
for a manicure.
Fuchsia.

* * *

Stress, Distress, De-stress

2010-06-25T18:31:00.000-07:00

* * *

100625

CAT SPAT

And then there was the day
the neighborhood white stray
chased Emma on the deck.
She fought and squealed like heck
as I came running.

The stray took off, but what a scare!
Gray-fluff fur was everywhere,
but not one sign of blood;
that, at least, was good.

By luck or cunning,
Emma’d located a nook
from which to fight. I took
her in my arms and nearly wept;
she had started purring. Then she slept,
and then went back outside—
my blind battler, and my pride.

100624

AFTERNOON AFTER

To bed at four.
Awake at ten
to write this pome
then sleep again.

100623

SKYLIGHT

Today at dawn
I shut the blinds,
then was surprised
to wake and find
the room so bright;
I’d been sleeping
in the light.

NOT ALARMED

Except for skylight,
I would still
be sleeping.

WRITING IT OUT

Perplexed.
Panicked.
Inadequate.

Whatever my biology,
whatever my upbringing,
whatever my adaptations,
hurry reverts me
to juvenile feelings:

Not good enough.
Don’t know enough.
Don’t know enough
to get it right,
or, even, just to get it.
Can’t think.
Can’t think.
Can’t think.
Can’t remember
enough or fast enough.
And didn’t write it down.

What is the proper sacrifice
to hurry? In the work of writing,
if my strengths are my weakness,
do I become stronger by weakening?

Where is the center,
the balance point?
How much can balance?
What is the point?

100622

UNFAMILIAR VOICES

Which birds were those,
the first of dawn,
serenading his departure?

100621

WAKE UP, WAKE UP!

What is this—
an exercise in depletion,
or simple self-deception?
—working ‘round the clock
designing training courses
on how to manage time
and keep a life in balance.

* * *

Work, Play, Life

2010-06-25T16:16:00.000-07:00

* * *

100620

JOB DESCRIPTION

What do they ask for
versus what do they mean
(they, meaning spouses
or would-be managers)?

There is more than a sinkful
of difference, for example,
between “Do the dishes”
and “Clean the kitchen,”
between “Clean the kitchen
and “Keep the kitchen clean.”

[ASIDE: Actually, this derives from a
presentation on diversity I once made at
a college. First I talked with women alone,
then with men, then with both together.
I came away with appreciation that people
communicate as well as they do, given the difficulties.
Each group, though, gave the identical response
to the question, “What do you most wish
your significant other understood about you?”
The answer: “How hard I work for their benefit."]

100619

OR-
ISON

Each moon
so fair.
Each sun.

One life
so rare,
so blessed
beyond
compar—
ison.

100618

REMEMBRANCE

Not for me a ring or locket.
Poem pieces in my pocket.

100617

OPUS

Too too many, don’t you think?
Too profuse with pen and ink.

SNEEZIES

She (in one room): Achoo!
He (in another): ‘Zatchoo?

100616

COURSE OF LIFE

Harm, charm, amusement,
glory, turmoil, strife.

Life is the teacher,
the master teacher,
teaching each creature
the way to master life.

100615

ANYTHING THAT WAKENS

Anything
that wakens us to now—
a sonic boom, an itch, a cow,
a door or body creaking—
that’s God speaking
(a.k.a., the Tao).

100614

REAL DEAL

I’ve pinched my arm
black and blue
making sure
my dream-job’s true.

100613

FORTUNE TELLERS

More of these
than blades of grass:
dewdrop globes, not of glass—
yet, crystal balls
(prismatic, bright)—
lucid forecasts of delight.

SHAPE

Touted in today’s paper
(in a sales flyer):
“Shaped Rubber Bands”—
primary-color squiggles
outlining animal shapes
(panther, dolphin, bear,
seahorse, butterfly, gator).

One mystery shape
goes undeciphered:
big-headed frog? tree in pot?
hammerhead anemone?

This optical-illusion puzzle
is a metaphor for external reality,
including the proposition
that it may not be external.
Every now and then
an insight falls into place—
but until you see it, you don’t see it.

100612

WRITER

Unlike some in the
work-world mob,
you won't hear me
moan or sob—
I love my job!
I love my job!

100611

THE TEACHER APPEARS

This job,
beyond the work itself,
has one benefit after another,
and the best so far
is one not even contemplated
at the outset—a good editor.

100610

LOVE’S GRACE

Life’s a school that each attends.
The work is hard; to make amends,
love graces us with friends.
Friends!
In unexpected forms and places.

100609

TAX RELIEF

After taxes—
ataraxis.

100608

QUITTER

First to go when I get busy
is exercise. Then sleep.
Then any semblance
of healthful eating.
The final mark of crisis
is when I stop writing
these daily po

100607

SAY OF HER

March two, two thousand two
to today when she is dead
(we know, we took her vitals)
she wrote a few good pomes
but was proudest of her titles.

TURNABOUT

Perhaps I wasn't
the world's best sleuth,
searching all those years
for truth.

No matter. I see—
@Truth is following me

[ASIDE: What a Twitter handle!]

100606

BLISSFIT

My idea
of bliss
is this:
overhearing
people
laughing.

* * *

Life, with Animals

2010-06-25T16:01:00.000-07:00

* * *

100605

TIME OUT, ALREADY!

Foo, foo, foo! Foo and fudge!
Things go badly when we judge.
He’ll suggest, plead or nudge.
She’s entrenched; she won’t budge.
She is nursing some old grudge.

[ASIDE: Someone discussing WWI and WWII
mentioned “old grudges” (which take place
at many levels).]

100604

DUCK CALLS

“He’s a she,”
my brother announced.
So Buddy became Bootie—
appropriate for a duck’s physique,
we thought.
Quattro, on the other hand (or wing),
was so called for failure to flock
with the triplets, unnamed.
Now he’s part of a duo.
That’s how fairy tales end these days.

SOGGY SAGA

That title sounds trite.
The situation is not.
Three lives were lost overnight.

I feel responsible,
though no one is certain of the cause—
the stormy night?
snapping turtle or other predator?
waterlogging?
I was warned about waterlogging.

Today’s report from the pond
is that Bootie and Quattro
(duck and duckling)
spent the entire afternoon side by side,
making exploratory excursions on the pond.

If one duckling survived, why not four?

About this mystery,
investigations reveal nothing,
the only evidence being non-evidence.
The verdict, however, is clear:
humans are not in charge,
nor should they be.

WRITE NOW

Well,
here’s a chance
to go to bed early,
something I fancy
clearly and surely.

But,
there’s a spot
still blank on the page
and a poetic urge
that must be assuaged.

100603

BACK ON THE WAGON

The re-beginning
is the most important
part of the work.

INTERVENTION

When cats claw
or dogs are yappy,
when you’re feeling
sad or sappy—
with a lilt,
sing, “I feel crappy!”
Silliness induces happy.

100602

PEKINS: $4

Practically speaking,
our duck was an orphan,
and that would not do—
so nothing would do
but to purchase four
more ducks via Craigslist.

The price was a clue
to their size, but we were
clueless going in.

Turned out,
they were just old enough
for swimming, so we
turned them out at the pond.

Practically speaking,
our orphan duck became
an unexpectant mama.
Let’s see how she does.

100601

SAW DUST

That bumble-
sized bee
boring holes
in our home’s
fascia boards?
That would be
a wood bee.

[ASIDE: Also known as a carpenter bee.]

FRUIT
ENROUTE

Went out
walking
today,
thoughtless,
like a
sleepwalker.

Returned,
empty-handed,
but with a
mulberry
aftertaste.

SKIN THAT ONE, PILGRIM,
AND I’LL GITCHA ANOTHER

Bless me,
but it’s been a while,
this turn at life—
each turn of dial,
each turn of stile,
each trip down aisle,
each phase, each style.

Mercy,
but it’s been a while!

[ASIDE: A sometimes yearning for
a fresh start or reset button.]

100531

SINGLE WHITE FEMALE

Neighbors got involved.
Long story short:
duck is now ensconced
on my brother’s farm and pond.
Efforts are underway
to secure suitable companionship.

DOUBLE TROUBLE

Mattress pad, comforter (placed
underneath the sheets in summer),
fitted sheet, upper sheet, bedspread
(actually, a heavy decorative sheet)—
all of these were run through the laundry
twice today.

A certain feline someone
has developed a bad habit.
Before we named her Emma,
she was called Sweet Trouble.

* * *

Faith, Fascination, Fun

2010-05-30T19:44:00.000-07:00

* * *

100530

FAITH IN THE OUTCOME

Duck, the second of the pair,
was quacking mid-road
near the body of its mate.

It did not retreat when I approached
to remove the other’s body
or even when vehicles whisked by.
When I left, it followed me—
by then, we were both quacking.

The pavement was hot,
so I walked us toward a patch
of shade and grass.
There I sat, cross-legged,
while duck nibbled weeds,
and sampled me with its bill—
taking great interest in shoes
and rings—till it eventually
settled on the grass for a nap.

I considered our options.

No point in delaying.
I rose and quickly walked away,
trusting in nature and instinct
to make the proper resolution,
not daring to look back—
until, of course, I did.

Duck was quacking mid-road.

100529

EVERYTHING

Wow.

UNIVERSALL

Each. All.
Every. One.

Within, without
and under the sun—
every doing
is a being-done.

100528

PREP TALK

“Work. Work out.”
That’s my code.
Time to go; gotta carry my load.
Here’s where the rubber
meets the road.

Can’t stay here
like a big fat toad.
Gotta get my butt on the road.
Here’s where the blubber
meets the road!

UMBRELLA (for Lisa)

Today was only foggy—
but better safe than soggy!

BUSHED

Feeling unergetic today.

(That’s a real word;
I’m too tired to make one up.)

100527

TO BELIEVE, BELIEVE

The story
of the mustard seed
is somehow mustard-treed.

Would you believe—
a mustard tree?
Never seen one!
Can it be?

There is one thing
I believe:
it takes faith,
that mustard-seed creed.

BE-LOVE-ED

The rising of the land.
The sinking of the sea.
The epoch of each creature;
its brief ascendancy.

Gaia, what have I to offer
but rough humanity?
As long as you are loved,
it needn’t be by me.

SEEK AND BE FOUND

What is it that you seek?
...To end, begin.
You are made in likeness.
...Look within.
You are the truth you speak.
...You are the answer you seek.

NOT YOUR KEEPER

Pardon me,
dear sir, dear ma’am—
do you take me for a fool
fool enough to give a damn?

LITTLE BO PEEP
AND SHEPHERD BOY

“Your debt is due,
but I’ll steer clear
of lambs and rams.
May I take a ewe?”

“Hardly, ma’am—
that will not do!
Frankly, my dear,
I don’t give a dam.”

CANADIANS

Geese ahead, and flying low.
I have yet to see them, though;
fog is rising from the lake.

I stand alert at water’s edge,
as the fog turns more opaque,
to wait the coming of the wedge.

No sooner do the geese appear
than their wedge must split or veer.

With whoosh of wings,
they rise instead,
passing barely overhead,
startled at the sight of me
flapping arms in mimicry.

[ASIDE: I took liberties with the truth.
The geese saw me from a greater distance;
their wedge was already broken, and it passed
on either side of me, but barely overhead.
The wing-whoosh sound was impressive.
Of course, the most prominent aspect of the
fly-by was the sound of their honking; I hope
you supplied it.]

100526

AINA NANI

If age is just a state of mind,
one I can embrace,
let mine be Hawaii
or some equal state of grace.

CAREER

If nursery rhymes don’t warp you
toward life as a poet,
cartoons might, to your sorrow.

I trace my happy affliction to
Popeye’s cartoon segment,
"Hair today. Goon tomorrow."

HI SIGN

There’s nothing
regarding a poem
that you ought to do.

Each one's just a pointer
to the poet inside of you.

OBSESSION

First you pursue.
Then it does you.

FAME? ACCLAIM?

Thank you, no,
I’m not quite ready
for adventure
half so heady.

100525

POEM PLACE

A patch of white
serene as snow
beckons, teases
as it pleases—
and it pleases
me to know
a patch of white
serene as snow.

SCRAM!

Go away—
go find yourself
some other prey.

Go away—
or I’ll get rough;
you’re not so tough.

Go away—
you’ve scavenged
on me long enough!

A DASH MIGHT DO

May I use
a comma, momma?
I hate to be behol’en,
even to a semicolon.

BUMFUZZLED

If there’s a school
for being old,
in it I’m a baby
looking for a nanny:
a mixed-up fool—
feeling like a girl,
acting like a lady,
looking like a granny.

I DIDN’T WANT ANY PART OF IT

You don’t want to know.

There on the page where I smashed it
are tick juices—dried, of course—
some body parts, and a strand of cat hair.
The smash took the shape of a flea.
(I said you didn’t want to know.)

Now you know.
How would you have handled it?

WHAT?

I find what I see.

What do I see?
What I’m looking for.

What am I looking for?
What I see—
familiar things and surprises.

What else is there?

END OF
HOSTILITIES

Surely
there will
come a day
when we can meet
as mates and play.

TRIBUTE

As from this life
I do depart,
I salute
my faithful heart.

INVENTORY
OF A HALF-HOUR

striped mushroom parasols

woodpecker riddling a power pole
(just keeping in practice?)

first Cherokee rose of spring

rock? dead squirrel? shoe

deformed Queen Anne’s lace
really another type of flower

bulldozer parked in woods

hidden meadow

shoe mate

RALLY TALLY

Just as the task force
was about to collapse
from the exhaustion of
negotiating difficult topics
and diverse opinions,
it narrowly averted
both delusion and demise:
it came to its consensus.

DEAL

I think of life as a poker game
(people, places and things—
especially ideas and insights—
these are the cards).
I’m always trading up.

[UNTITLED]

Even when it rains,
you worry over ducks and frogs,
not to mention lakes, seas, bogs.

[Twitter challenge issued by @MyWordWizard:
flesh out the opening “Even when it rains, you. . .”]

SKIES CLEARING

Kokopeli serenading a cactus;
two white elephants
with trunks entwined;
a big-lipped moose
riding a hippopotamus—
yippee-i-o!
Also—beyond the far hills,
mountains of snowcapped rubble.
And all I had to do was look up.

100524

YOUR PROBLEM

Just because you
contributed to it
doesn’t mean you
can’t ask for help.

JOURNAL

Reading back,
my life appears to be made up
of intertwined recurrent themes—
various animals appearing
or demising near roadways;
reactions to solar, lunar
and household events;
weather;
existential, psychospiritual
and literary musings;
discovery, frustration and fun.
Not bad.

* * *

Alien Seditions

2010-05-23T11:23:00.000-07:00

* * *

100523

THE POSSIBLE DREAM

Imagination or reality
(what I’m enamored of)?

How everything—
everything!—
only offers love.

SPRING THRILL

Window open.
Day borning.
Warm under covers
on a cool morning.

100522

NO RETREAT

Enlightenment rebirths us—
each insight, a debut;
each last exhale of old life,
the first inhale of new.

100521

DIFFERENT DATE,
DIFFERENT FATE

Evicted by rain,
worms mounted the roadbed
yesterday
and headed north—
or simply traveled in tandem
away from where they’d been.

I ferried them across.

Today’s refugees
are being escorted by a crow
to a different destination.

[TIDBIT]

Yesterday,
hawk in small tree.
Today, two hawks.

100521

COUNT ME IN

Ten million people are writing
(ten million people or more),
all wanting your attention
(ten-million-one or more).

ABOUT MY CAT

To my touch,
she was at first resistant,
so I took care—
was gentle and persistent.
Now she comes to my caress;
in fact, she is insistent.

CHORES

There’s nothing like
having something to do
to make you want to do
something else.

DEATH’S DEMEANOR

Will it be—
a long surmise?
a quick surprise?

or, as I suspect—
some grand disguise?

CLOWN

I thank God
for sight and smell,
and sound,
and sense—

but, most of all,
for irreverence.

UNFIT FOR SERVICE

Would a poet laureate
write about snot,
or boogers or cooties?
I think not!

Well, cross that off
my list of ambitions—
I have too many alien seditions.

THE WAY OF PLAY

My work
is as a poet
and is,
as it should be,
a work
to work aversive—
a work of truancy.

TAUNTRESS

My muse
is showing off tonight,
strutting her strange stuff—
daring, daring, daring me
to say, enough, enough!

100520

I AM GOING TO THE ZOO (for Lauren)

What I say is truly true:
I have nothing better to do.
I am going to the zoo.
To the zoo — Woo hoo! Woo hoo!!!

100519

ANTS IN YOUR PANTS

Spring rains
have driven ants inside
seeking places to abide.

They’re made to move—
and don’t move slowly.
They’ll hop a toe and take a ride,
then mountaineer a person’s hide.

The lowly ant
is not so lowly!

100518

WRESTLING

Pain has taken a
toe-hold on my body—
well,
a thumb-lock.

100517

THE BETTER PART

Martha—Mary
(prosaic—poetic, earthy—airy).

One weighted with work,
when work would wait.

One who chose a buoyant fate.

100516

BRITISH ACCENT

My partner's in the kitchen
making a pot of tea.

I'd applauded his suggestion:
"taking a spot of tea."

* * *

Confetti

2010-05-15T14:51:00.000-07:00

* * *

100515

WRITER
WORKSHOP

Rain
stops
(now and then)
its patter;
birds,
their chirping;
writers, too,
their chirping pens.

ROLE WITH
THE PUNCHES

I am the writer,
the recorder,
the observer.
Clout? I doubt.

She—let it be—
is the teacher.

PEONIES (for Carrie)

Why peonies?

Why today
white ruffled peonies—

in her email,

in our remembrances
of kleenex flowers
on bobbie-pin stems,

in those two faded flowers on display
at that bookstore counter,

in the first poem encountered now
in Mary Oliver’s book?

[ASIDE: Inspired by a Twitter comment.]

BACK-TO-BARK

Every day is an experiment:
a reaching out
to whatever is reaching back.

This day’s experiment:
place my back to the bark of a tree,
spine to spine,
as close as we can get
and be.

MEDIUM, MESSAGE

Paper is a pleasure
to brush against,
to stroke,
to rub between fingers
until it pop-pop-pops.

CONFETTI

the look of wonder
on an eighty-year-old face

my fat pen
in use again

when it’s given right, let it be

that black line of cloud,
so un-menacing
in retreat

[ASIDE: Leftover bits from writing exercises]

100514

LEARN ME

sights and wonders
places to go

tell me
teach me
take me—
share and show

take me
tell me
teach me—
I so want to know

100513

SCAREDY

I love it
(find it quite exciting)
when lightning blast
and thunder crash
put every cat in hiding.

100512

TRANSIENTS

Thoughts—
catch, then hold them?
No net is that fine.

Thoughts are not me—
are not even mine.

100511

HOW THESE THINGS WORK

It wasn’t even a job offer,
just a statement of pay parameters
and notice of further applicant scrutiny.

I was the applicant.

The pay was low, the commute
and hours long, and the work—well,
unenchanting to someone else
I knew, who knew.

I’d been spoiled.
Two months earlier, I had interviewed
with the company for the job—
the one I really wanted.
But nothing had come of that.

I contrasted the two scenarios to my husband,
a multi-tasker who continued browsing the web,
scanning emails, and checking phone messages
as I spoke. Then he turned to me with a smirk.

“What?” I asked, irritated.

“You need to know how these thing work,”
he coached, handing me the phone.
“Call for you. It’s the company.”

THE MAGICAL KINGDOM

Serendipity.
Wish fulfillment.
Placebos.
Self-fulfilling prophecies.
Superstitions.
Delusions of power.

Beware of magical thinking,
children, artists, and
dreamers are cautioned.

But think about it:
isn’t all thinking magical?

OPTIONAL

Take
an ordinary
sentence;
break it into bits;
run it
down the page
and, voilà!
a poem
(title optional).

100510

SUN STROKE OF LUCK

After an afternoon sunbath,
I moved to a set of worn
west-facing wooden steps and
continued warming myself there.

Close by,
yellow-headed
dandelions bloomed

The nearest caught my attention.
While I stared, completely absorbed,
background greenery
went glittery, then monochrome
(black, white, silver, gray)
as the blossom intensified
its yellow—like a radiant sun
against a lucent nighttime sky.

How did I chance
to witness that?

* * *

Mother's Day & Oddities

2010-05-09T18:30:00.000-07:00

* * *

100509

WHAT’S IN A NAME (for Mary Lee)

Jo is her middle name
and she came to prefer it.

Jo,
chosen by her mother,
when her mother was a girl.

Jo ,
for dear one, beloved,
“John Anderson, my Jo”.

Jo,
the mother-gift of mother-love
to an entire family,
for each person knows, “You are
my dear one, my beloved, my Jo.”

[ASIDE: Mother's Day poem derived from a self-obituary
writing exercise conducted this week by Karen Zacharias,
author of "Will Jesus Buy Me A Double-Wide?:
Cause I Need More Room for My Plasma TV"]

100508

SELF, NON-SELF

One a horse, ranging wide.
One a rider, along for the ride.

Each awake to own.
Each asleep to other.

One will never get out.
One, though it may have tried,
will never get inside.

100507

SHEEPISH

The sheep were sheep.
Some would feed,
some would sleep,
and some would sleep
very deep... counting sheep.

[ASIDE: Wisdom House challenge on Twitter:
Create a work beginning with the words,
“The sheep were… “]

ALARM

The sheep were screaming,
but no one could hear.

The wind was calm.
The day was clear.
The shepherd was absent;
at least, couldn't hear.

The sheep were screaming,
but no one could hear—
no one, that is,
except what drew near.

[ASIDE: Wisdom House challenge on Facebook:
Create a work beginning with the words,
“The sheep were screaming… “ Facebook didn’t
truncate the instructions.]

100506

YOU CALLED? (For Denise)

"Boo-hoo!
Had it. Lost it.
Now I want it back.
Lost my mojo;
lost the knack.
Want my mojo back!"

"Yoo-hoo!
Mo' Jo? Here's Jo,
ready and at hand.
You want mo' Jo?—
that's just grand!
Glad I'm in demand!

[ASIDE: Response to a Facebook comment.]

100505

THOTS

shld i hv bot
what i sot?
what i got
was not so hot—
thats why i fot,
but all i wrot
came 2 not.

[ASIDE: Amused by some
Twitter condensations of words.]

100504

NOW THAT’S A MEDIOCRE POEM

It’s so hard to keep up with a quota;
to resign to the mediocre,
to short-change the more promising.
But without the quota,
without the mediocrity,
no promise would be realized.

[ASIDE: This is how poems often start out,
before editing. I think this one may be beyond hope.]

* * *

Cheese and Crackers

2010-05-03T19:34:00.000-07:00

* * *

100503

RETICENT

The neighbor’s garden
is at my disposal.

I feel richer in what I don’t take
than in what I do.

Is there a cure for this?

LITTLE HOLES

When the bread has little holes
and hasn’t been soaked overnight,
I dip each slice quickly and put it
in the pan. Then I spoon-feed the
excess egg mixture slowly and gently
over the pores of its upper surface.
By the time I’m done spooning, it’s
ready to be flipped anyway. Some-
times fleshing out a poem is like that:
lingering attentively, filling in gaps.

100502

NATURE WALK NATURE

I do the thing
to be alone;
to think, or not;
and, as I roam,
to breathe fresh air—
breathe freely too.

What will change,
if I’m with you?

[ASIDE: The syntax is wrong,
but I don't like "What would change"
or "when I'm with."]

100501

ENABLER

When your cat pees
on your bed or rug,
you clean things up.
What else can you do?

Then your cat pees
(uncontrite and smug)
in that same place
the moment that you’re through.

100430

[CHALLENGE POEMS]

Take a newspaper article and black out words
to leave a coherent poem of the remaining words
in their original sequence. I tried this twice.

GRANDMOTHERS

The author said,
"I fell wildly in love with this child."

Completely unprepared for this new role,
she made plans to write a memoir
of not just her own experience
but those of other writers;
all the hidden pleasures and perils
of being a grandmother.

She wanted it to be true,
convinced that all baby boomers
are traveling in uncharted waters
as grandparents.

If there's anything she's learned,
it's this: "You need to be supportive
and keep your mouth shut."

NEW ROLE

Author speaks Sunday
about her reaction
to the birth of her first granddaughter.

"Completely unprepared,
heartbroken, furious, devastated."

Asked to write an essay
about being a grandparent,
she didn't change names or anything.

"It provoked feelings in me,
not all of them charitable.
There's something scary
about being a grandparent."

Copies will be available for purchase
at the Sunday event.

100429

P.M. POEM

Are you that overwhelmed?
Has it lost its allure?

(A near-midnight start
for this pome du jour.)

100428

HEALTH-FOOD SLACKERS

Cheese and crackers,
cheese and crackers,
cheese and cheese,
and cheese and crackers.

Fruits and veggies have no backers
in this house of cheese and crackers;
have no home among these slackers.

100427

EVERYDAY POET

even I
of privileged
eye
often fail
to see:

the ease
the deep
the friendly

of the common

100426

TEXAS SPICE

Poorly-painted red words
on poorly-painted white boards
advertise a roadside stand:
"jams" "jellies" "peaches" "tomatoes"

The largest sign recommends:
"RELISH"
"SALSA"

Thanks to a stint in Texas, I do.

[ASIDE: On this one, Fay Jean Royce commented:
"An Arkie lass with Texas sass!"]

100425

THINGS

In your vicinity,
at your approach,
things shift.

If alert,
you may notice
a flutter of wings,
a scurrying,
a sudden splash.

Further ahead,
the more sensitive,
shy, and subtle
have already taken
their leave, leaving only
a toe-track,
a scent,
a broken twig.

Further yet,
other things—possibly—
disappear so quickly
and thoroughly
we don’t even suspect
they exist.

100424

NO ACCOUNT

What have I really done
for this world;
what have I really done?

Whom have I saved or salved
in this world;
whom, when, why—
and what from?

100423

GOING TO POT-BELLY

“Do you think your skin
holds your innards in?”

“Fat chance it does—
because my face has turned to scowls and jowls;
because each thigh’s the size my waist once was;
because my upper arms (once like a girl’s)
now flap just like a flying squirrel’s.

Do I think my skin
holds my innards in?

Not one bit, because—
I have witnessed tears and boobies drop.
Plus, my belly slops over undie tops.”

100422

AMEN TO THAT

As I take this food, I choose:
health, delight, and gratitude.

100421

ATTENDANCE

Three;
three to learn.

One to teach.

One to observe;
one to learn
to teach.

* * *

Floral Scented Potpourri

2010-04-21T17:47:00.000-07:00

* * *

100420

READING BETWEEN THE LIONS

Stopped in my tracks
by dandelions—
yellow circles coming into flower,
white spheres going into seed—
I start to track
the over-long overlooked;
that missing phase between.

100419

BIZARRE BAZAAR

Well, Mr. Omnipotent,
I hope you’ve enjoyed
your little game.

About what to believe,
about how to behave—
you’ve stumped me.
I give up.

100418

OCCUPIED

You know the kind:
immersed in passions
at which they flounder.

Critics pan.
Leeches pander.
Life and livelihood get sucked in.
Do they mind?
Nah—happy as clams.

100417

FINAL TANDEM

Not fallen petals
carpeting the orchard,
mirroring pink above with pink below,
but branches pruned at winter’s end—

they flower now in final tandem
with former fellows
reprieved short weeks ago.

100416

SEPARATE WORLDS

Do you want the left world
or the right? the up or down?
the dark or light?
Take whichever pleases you.
I don’t want to fight.

100415

MOST FAVORED

Book or pen,
pen or book?

How hard my life, if I forsook
book or pen, pen or book.

100414

IMPACT

Thunk!
By the time I raced outdoors
the bird was in the jaws of the cat,
who released it to me on request—
a woodpecker.

The long beak,
knocked sideways into the chest
by force of impact,
was plastered with breast feathers.
The breast muscle had been split.
The body was limp and lifeless
except for one eyelid blinking,
one eye roving.

Now—
now that the body, recovered, has flown,
where does the eye rove;
and, over what, the mind?

100413

ONE IOTA FOR MY QUOTA

My five-
dandelion bouquet is three-
fifths faded, my day is four-
and I am more.
One thing left: this poem chore.

DECISIONS, DECISIONS

You can know too much.

At least I can know too much.
Knowing, for instance,
that the least-used restroom stall
is nearest or farthest from the restroom door,
I stop, in spite of urgency, to consider:
which stall do I actually use most often?
Which least? Which did I use last time?
Do I want variety,
so as not to fall into habitual ruts?
Why—if I choose number one this time—
do I do that? am I afraid of something about
numbers two, three, four…?

But let me assure you—
considering my total life experience,
I conclude quickly and accurately about one thing:
any women's stall is more likely to be clean
than any men’s.

100412

BOOK-COVER DESIGN ADVICE (for Cathi)

How much to kern is a matter of concern.
Visual vibration causes consternation.
Fonts should be few; in fact, two will do.
Zap all-caps QUICK in italic or script.
Let images illustrate (not negate or duplicate).
Avoid cliches, plus clip-art way out-of-date,
plus fonts too overused and tame.
Don't use your title as a frame.

[ASIDE: Commenting on a fellow writer's website.]

100411

ODD COUPLE

Raven roved, on the road
from Pittsburgh to Poughkeepsie.
Every time he went away,
that gypsy came back tipsy.

Elephant, his stay-at-home,
was plump from trunk to rump.
She never would be svelte;
at least that's how she felt.

[ASIDE: Wisdom House Books - Challenge:
use the words trunk, svelte, raven, gypsy]

100410

LOOTED

Tempted by a spray of golden forsythia
cascading over a country dirt-road fence,
I draw near, only to find the outermost stems
already snipped off and a cluster of
deer prints in the mud below.

100409

ALL THINGS OLD
MADE NEW AGAIN

Ah, the beauty of the world;
the bounty of our lives!

But Oh—first glimpse, first touch,
first whiff—the beauty of surprise!

100408

HARD TIMES

dandelion bouquet

HARD TIMES

at thrift store;
shopping specials only

HARD TIMES

pondering
less is more

HARD TIMES

in lap of luxury;
then luxury stood up

100407

DEPTH PERCEPTION

In dreams or visions,
what does mind's-eye know?
And does it see things plane
or in stereo?

100406

HER OWN SELF (for Annette)

Frida wore a nose and mouth;
that is how God made her.
Frida wore a unibrow;
no one could dissuade her.

* * *

Intimations of Mortality

2010-04-06T13:59:00.000-07:00

* * *

100405

DRIFTER

Where the road ends—

where ceaseless waves of water
and waterlogged debris, suspended,
drift in and out, out and in—

someone faces the wind, chilling;
clouds, darkening;
day, dying;

someone stands immobile,
but for easeless waves of air
breathed in and out, out and in.

100404

WHY?

Doesn't it seem
that people's suffering
is out of all proportion
to any harm they've done—
or even
might have done
in purported prior lives?

What gives?
Who set this up?
If it’s all a game, who’s laughing?

MAD CHATTER

Don’t tell me you don’t have a thousand
voices in your head clamoring, ranting,
fuming, lampooning, and issuing commentary
via a thousand points of view. Don’t tell me you
don’t squelch them rather than belch them, or,
if warranted and you’re in the mood, invite them
to stay for tea or a similar heart-to-heart.

100403

LIMERICKS ON FREELANCE WRITING

There once was an Everyday Poet
who said, “I write well; let me show it.”
Her lance—like her fee
and her spirit—were free,
so soon she went broke, don’t you know it?

There twice was a writer who freelanced.
The first time he quit, his affianced
insisted he do.
Bad clients (time two)
showed him how, with his free lance, to be lanced.

And my favorite...

“Writer for Hire” is my trade.
Of blood, sweat and tears, I have made
my very life’s ink—
but freedom, I think,
is worth all the dues that I’ve paid.

100402

BUMMED

Want work an’ money, like other folk—
tired o’ bein’ so dam broke.

100401

PERSONAL FAVE

Chocolate cake—I gave a look.
Carrot cake—I partook.

Chocolate cake I can decline.
Carrot cake is too sublime.

100331

SWING SHIFT

woke up
half an hour early

rolled over
(big mistake)

showed up
groggy, surly—
half an hour late

100330

GLIMMERS
OF SUCCESS

Holey moley—,
‘bout damn time!

(Making progress slowly.)

100329

ASPIRING POETS—

You want to write right, right?
You want to read, read, read.

ELSEWHERE (for Carrie)

Missed the party;
don't know how.
All that fun!
All that chow!

* * *

Purple Prose and Poetry

2010-03-28T10:13:00.000-07:00

* * *

100328

WRITERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE—

Ornate excess, clichés, and slang
overload the whole shebang.
Who can tame the purple page?
Who can spur your words to fly?

When you just can’t get the hang,
hang out with the Zane Grey gang—
masters of the purple sage;
sage “Guest Writers in the Sky."

100328

SURFACE FLAWS

With the touch of a wand
in those anti-wrinkle ads,
facial lines appear or disappear
to age or rejuvenate a face.

While personhood remains intact
behind placid model eyes,
skin conditions
condition perceptions.

Thankfully, the peekaboo
reveals how easily
even these mistakes can be undone;
with the touch of a wand.

100327

SHARED LUNCH

I knew what was up
the minute he proposed shopping
at straight-up noon.

Braum’s is the kind of place
where you can get
bananas and bread
along with your burgers and fries.

Half a loaf
went to the ducks
at the pond by the library.

The geese, Canadians,
barely deigned to sample.
The mallards grazed
but didn’t gobble.
It’s spring—
they have other things
on their minds.

100326

WHAT A DEAL!

I do my part;
he does his.
Mine involves
the shopping list.

ANSWER

There is an answer.
There is always an answer.
The only time
there is no answer
is when you pre-conclude
there is no answer.

* * *

Fire and Ice

2010-03-25T19:29:00.000-07:00

* * *

100325

ANAGRIM

Someone has evil
in his very name
and can't veil his breath:
a vile, live, evil flame.

100324

FIRST TEN HITS

I feel so stressed.
I feel so behind.
I feel so old.
I feel so empty.
I feel so stalked.
I feel so good.
I feel so unloved.
I feel so accomplished!
I feel so…….down.
I feel so badddd.

[ASIDE: Random Twitters.]

100323

SLICK

Our foot of snow arrived quickly,
sandwiched between layers of sleet.

Taking in the scene this morning,
I decide: “Any exercising done today
will be done indoors.”
Then I notice sparrows, exercising
their fruitless search for food.

So, in boots, nightie,
and borrowed husband's robe
(husband's borrowed robe, that is),
I trek outside to a the crest of the lawn,
carrying a dishtowel
and a mixing bowl filled with
breadcrumbs, cereal, and seeds.

To free my hands before spreading
the towel on the icy surface,
I set the bowl down—and down it goes:
down the knoll, down a rut in the long
winding driveway and, from there,
whirling and bobsledding,
down the street toward the lake.

My trek just became extended
and my exercise decision un-decided.

* * *

Snow Days with Pirates

2010-03-22T10:19:00.000-07:00

* * *

100322

WHITE LAWN

The lady
drops
her handkerchief.

The gentlemen
watch,
cold and stiff.

[ASIDE: Mother Nature brought a foot of snow;
menfolk immobilized.]

100321

UNSEASONED

Flinging snow like an apprentice,
Mother Nature came, this solstice,
like some newbie, fool, or novice;
some amateur in need of practice.

100320

WHAT MAE BE

Mae West was well blessed
with what let's call a chest.
And here is something more—

“Mae West” as "life vest"
started out as simile,
became a metaphor,
then turned so eponymous
they’re practically synonymous.

[ASIDE: Wisdom House challenge entry]

100319

STUCK BECAUSE NOT

What is missing?
I have no clue—
except one thought:
my life needs glue.

100318

VISITED

Do you suppose Mary
went around
explaining to the neighbors
what God had wrought,
so as to not
scandalize them or
keep them in the dark?

Do you suppose
we neighbors now
are being made privy
to miracles gestating
in the Marys and Magdalenes
next door or down the block?

100317

THE USUAL

Feeling
unusually glad—
about feeling glad,
as usual.

100316

INSTRUMENTAL

By reading, I know
words can ring—
as, on your stage,
mine dance and sing.

100315

PILING ON

Oh, by the way,
this day of Caesar-cide
(this Ides of March and “Brutus Day”)
now coincides
with “Buzzard Day.”

Well, to my mind—
the birds are much maligned.

100314

PIRATE TECHNICS

Pirates have at their disposal,
as they plunder on the sea,
quite a number of choices
in arsenals of weaponry:

flashing swords and gashing knives
(of which they’re such aficionados);
cannonballs, canisters, stinkballs, and mines;
pomegranate-shaped hand grenados;
blunderbusses, muskets, and musketoons,
plus pistols of every description;
fire-arrows, torches, rockets, and flares.
These all must be used with discretion.

Their best measure
is to seize without a fight.

Fire backfires—
they lose treasure
when they set a ship alight.

100313

REFLECTION

All my parts I daily meet
(the ones that meet my eye)
are slender: arms, hands, wrists;
my calves below the thigh.

“Envision,” say my diet books;
learn to “Think yourself thin!”
Well, were it not for mirrors,
I would think myself thin.

100312

JUST JOY

Joy, joy, joy!

Just joy I find—
Someone’s playing
with my mind.

* * *

Joy and Pain

2010-03-12T20:33:00.000-08:00

* * *

100311

"O’ WAD SOME POWER"

Hello, again, everyone.

I am happy to report
that my 24-hour lipstick does,
in fact, adhere for the duration.

I have learned to apply it
without resorting to a mirror
and (thanks to a bulletin I received
just moments ago), I can attest that
it adheres equally well to teeth.

100310

CRAMMED

Hurry, hurry,
don’t be late!

There’s no room
to ruminate.

100309

FISHY

I only looked;
he was a winker.

When he said
we would wed,
he had me hooked—
lyin' stinker!

WHY?

"Where is the city?
I hear that it's pretty,"
the chicken asked the road.

"Several miles north,"
the road sent her forth.
But road was just trickin'
and so the plot thickens.

Why did the road
cross the chicken?

100308

MORNIN’, SUN!

Hello,
my mellow
yellow fellow!

EXERCISED

Check me out—
can anyone tell,
do you suppose?

I feel like I smell!

What?
With your nose?

100307

PEST ASIDE

Just a comment:
I haven't thought it through,
but I suspect
some awful trade's been made;
that you earn your life
by signing on
as God's assassin;
that he doesn't do his own
dirty work.

DAILY REVOCATION

from sleep sublime,
dawn pries my mind—I rise

then comes the crime—I fall
back in; back into time

100306

COMMON QUEST

to make play pay
but still stay play

100305

INCREMENTAL

Major griefs
from minor beefs—

how they load us;
those petty hurts
we never used to notice.

* * *

Grammar of Friendship

2010-03-04T17:51:00.000-08:00

* * *

100304

"NATIONAL GRAMMAR DAY" LIMERICK

There might come a time when I were.
This sounds almost wrong; I concur.
But, in grammar school,
subjunctive rules rule;
I’d be smart if I “were” to defer.

[ASIDE: This was done for a contest with a short deadline.
But I got caught away from the computer and wasn't able to
submit it on time.]

BELATED CARD

I may have forgotten your birthday AGAIN!
. . . and I may forget next year (it’s WHEN?)
but you’re on my mind most of the time
and I’m thrilled just to call you my FRIEND.

100303

FACILITATOR

She has no hesitation
to express her point of view.
She has no doubt we love her—
and so, no doubt, we do.

100302

TWITTER-TIME

Your words—so funny, sweet, and wise—
often fill me with surprise.
Greetings, all you Tweetie-Pies!

* * *

091227

COMPANIONS

Feeling lonely.
Feeling feeble.
Feeling lost and glum.

Lady Bug and Scarab Beetle—
how kind of you to come.

[ASIDE: December poem notes found and edited]

* * *

Birds and Bard (Dr. Seuss)

2010-03-02T13:33:00.000-08:00

* * *

100302

THEODORABLE (for Carrie)

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!

To you, I raise a glass of juiess,
saluting what your words prodeuss—
fun and joy that tame abeuss.
Thank you, Engine! Signed, Cabeuss.

PORTAL

When you choose
an opposite way;
when you lose your bearings,
all that you bear, and all
that has borne you;
when you cast yourself out—
as you exit the city gate, notice.

The little bird
hidden in the bush
beside your path
still sings for you
its melody of kindness.

100301

CONSIDER THE BIRDS

Consider the birds;
their value is immense.
Consider the world
with no insect defense.

One recent spring
bugs arrived early,
birds arrived late—
an incipient pestilence
slow to abate.

Consider the world
with yearly such springs.
Consider the world
with no birds in the wings.

“CATHARTES AURA”

When is a buzzard
not a buzzard?
When it never was!
(That’s the buzz. )

Europeans decry our
lack of orni-culture.
Hawk, they claim, is buzzard.
(Our buzzard is their vulture.)

* * *

Out of Time

2010-02-28T17:24:00.000-08:00

* * *

100228

SUPPOSE NO ROSE (for Cory)

Strip it from all referents.
Eliminate its liaison to love.
Erase its scent.
Remove all that it does.

Suppose it never was.

The question this will pose:
“What is ode to rose?”

100227

TSUNAMI, TRIVIA

Time keeps everything
from happening at once;
prevents collapse, disaster.

To judge by Twitter’s
speed and range—time’s
running out, and faster.

EPITAPH 2

Genesis.
Exodus.
Acts.
Lamentations.
Revelation.
Proverbs.

100226

EPITAPH 1

Crayon.
Pencil.
Pen.
Typewriter.
Computer.
Tombstone.

[ASIDE: This is a variation of a poem I wrote awhile back.
This one is for a publisher’s contest: write your life story in 6 words.]

DDUUEETT

Cross-eyed, I have
four hands, so that—
solo on my keyboard—
I can play duet.

* * *

Peace, Prize

2010-02-25T18:26:00.000-08:00

* * *

100225

THAT WOULD TAKE THE PRIZE

Would it be legitimate, when it arrives,
to drench it in water?

I opted for a white woman's
over a black man's
(both are crew neck).
It was awarded by a publishing house
for best self-help book title spoof,
which I won with:
"The Tao of Bliss – What Doesn't
Thrill You Makes You Wronger."

How I'd like, at my age,
to tell the nieces and nephews
that I won a wet t-shirt contest.

100224

POET’S DAY OFF

Self-help book title spoofs, instead of poems.
Last on the list won a t-shirt prize from the
contest sponsor, a publishing house:

Cereal Thriller – Live with Flair on Vegan Fare
Intuitive Time Management – Thinking Outside the Clocks
Perfectionism Rescue – The Ins and Outs of Over and Above
Stop That Teesing! – Help Eradicate T-Shirt Prize Contests
Order Up! – How to Successfully Demand Results from Your Higher Power
Guru Guru – Becoming a Self-Help Expert Expert
Taiwan On! – Dealing with the Taipei Personality
Soulmate Salvage – Correcting the Very Traits You Used to Adore
Stop That Teesing! – Help Eradicate T-Shirt Prize Contests
The Tao of Bliss – What Doesn't Thrill You Makes You Wronger

100223

PEACE POME

☮ is good. ✌ is ✍.
Like the ❂, ☮ is bright.

❆ or rain, day or ♘,
I ♥ to ✏ of ✌ and light.

~ ツO

100222

BUZZARD LADY

Buzzard Lady is my role.
Don’t put me in a pigeon hole.

100221

GOODBYE AND GOOD LUCK

Well, it's bad news
for all you six-plus billion souls
who'll have to run your own lives,
now that I've opted out
of that responsibility.
(I was told it was never mine
to begin with, but don't we all wish
I'd found out sooner!)

100220

CHARMER

So cute a pixie
it's hard not to give hugs,
sporting short hair, blue jeans,
tunic and Ugghs.

P-O-E-T-R-Y

I try.
I fail, and fail again.

I fail. Again I try.

I will not quit;
will not admit
defeat.

I will—
like my endeavor—
end in “T-R-Y.”

100219

SPEAKING OF ODD!

No takers for my
buzzard speech—
how bu-ZZARD is that?

RELATIVE TIME

One week ago,
our fledgling finch
was pushed out of the nest.

Today he sits
three new-laid eggs
with the adults—
who would have guessed?

100218

PEAK EXPERIENCE

I told the seer, "I'm here to hear.
How can I make my dreams appear?"

"Cure conscious and unconscious fear.
What you want is very near;
get clear of fear to bring it here."

"My days, dear Seer, are growing drear;
how do I get my fears to clear?"

"Afraid I don't know," smiled the seer
with genuine and gentle cheer.
"Come and ask again next year."

HUNGRY, BABE!

When I see you
through my night vision goggles
taking out your garbage,
I can see you,
Babe, on night missions—slogging,
staking out our forage.

[ASIDE: TWITTER 2/12/10 - MichaelATerry: RT @GhostPanther:
Has there ever been a romantic poem that begins "When I see you
through my night vision goggles taking out your garbage..." ]

* * *

Words of Fun

2010-02-17T07:34:00.000-08:00

* * *

100218

LEXICONSTRUCTION

Need a word? Just make one
(it’s a democracy).
Then add two or three.

I needed a word,
for example.
I present it as a sample:

Simplicity plus happiness?
That’s “simblissity.”

100217

A HOST OF DAFFY DEALS

I wandered only as The Cloud
that floats on high o’er th' Internet
(that vast e-commerce-dealing crowd).

With virtual virtue I was endowed.
By data streams I roamed, and got not wet.

100216

COACHING SESSION

“Depend upon your higher power,”
my guru/coach suggested.
“Assign one dream-goal upward.
Let your uptight self be rested.”

“Use intuition to set that goal.”
Well, that’s how I got flustered.
My inner whisper told my soul—
“Go, ye. Speak of buzzards.”

100215

RISE ‘N SHINE, YEP!

Hello, Sun, how do?
Liftin’ up them clouds, are ya,
movin’ everthang along?

Guess I best git up, m’self—
ta start my own day strong.

100214

PEAR-TREE

Morning is its blossom.
Noon, its honey-bee.
Evening is its harvest:
the pear called ecstasy.

Night has come,
has come, my love,
drawing you to me.

Come, my love—
come share this night.
Love, come pear with me.

[ASIDE: Shall I come-pear
thee to a summer’s night?]

ANY ART

If you plan to pick it up,
know how to put it down.
Progression can be obsessive.

If you plan to stick with it,
know when to put it down.
Obsession can be progressive.

100213

GUEST, LIST!

This is a private party,
not a banquet or a ball,
and if you want a lecture,
go find a lecture hall.

[ASIDE: Scrapped…

This is a private party,
intimate and small—
open just to kindred souls
(but open to them all).

This is a private party
for the select few
who manage to gain entry.
So, welcome. That is you.]

100212

BEYOND THE PALL

The sheet that skims my skin tonight
requires the moon to make it white—
and more than moon; for, though so bright,
moon but reflects more brilliant light.

100211

CHERUBIM TO CHERUBIMBOS

Wondrous, sonorous signs and symbols!

Words are heaven’s mighty cymbals
sounded by angels at their gambols
to babbling mortals at their rambles.

-------------------------------------------------
[SONG LYRICS FOR LIONS INTERNATIONAL]

LION PRIDE WORLDWIDE

If you know one Lion, you’re bound to know a few.
You find them on savannahs, in the jungle, at the zoo.
You find them in the circus, and other places too.
But can you guess—more or less—what these Lions do?

Lions meet and Lions talk.
Lions work from dawn till dark,
Raising help and hope and funds,
Especially for little ones.
A Lion is a lady. A Lion is a man.
Dogged as a shepherd, gentle as a lamb.
Lion vision helps all see—
The world is one community.

If you know one Lion, you’re bound to know a few.
You find them on savannahs, in the jungle, at the zoo.
You find them in the boardroom and on the factory floor.
They do good in neighborhoods—Hear those Lions roar!

Lions meet and Lions talk.
Lions work from dawn till dark,
Raising help and hope and funds,
Especially for little ones.
A Lion is a tiger, fighting for the right.
A Lion is an eagle, searching with true sight.
Lion vision helps all see—
The world is one community.

[ASIDE: Lyrics for our local club, which LOVES to sing
“Happy Birthday” in as garbled a fashion as possible…

Lions meet and Lions talk.
Lions sing in Rogers , Ark. ,
Raising voices to a screech,
Growling this for all and each—

“Happy Birthday to you…”
or “Hear Those Lions Roar” ]

-------------------------------------------------

100210

HAPPENSTANCE

Whatever happens
happens (in one theory)
to be good, so that
whenever whatever
shouldn’t happen happens,
it just so happens
that it should.

100209

KNOWSEY NEIGHBORS

Love that saying.
Is it your own?

Inquiring minds
want quoted sources known.

100208

SNOW ON SNOW

Overnight snow falls afresh,
slipping from branches
to meld with melting snow below.

* * *

Snowy & Flakey

2010-02-07T13:53:00.000-08:00

* * *

100207

CHRONIC PAIN

Chronic pain.
Chronic pain.
Chronic pain
is a chronic pain!

100206

ANOTHER
CANCELLATION

Snow. Sleeting.
“No Meeting.”

100205

FLAKEY

Snow is made of water
but it can be dry.

Snow—on your nose
or eyelashes—feels light.
But snow is heavy.

Snow falls
because it’s heavy.

Wet snow is heavier
than dry snow.

A heavy snow
can be quick and thick
or just deep.
It can be wet or dry

No matter
how heavy it is,
snow is light
and usually white.

Against the clouds
from which it falls,
it’s dark—like cinders.

You can build with snow.
You can make a man
or igloo or fort.

Snow can get dirty—
gray or brown or yellow—
but let’s not go into that.

100204

HIBER NATION

For many in this country,
the difference between
joy at snow and joy at snow
is many months between.

100203

SADLY TRUE

It’s bizarre. It’s medieval.
No matter what you say or do—
someone somewhere
thinks you’re evil.

100202

PLAITING FOR PROFIT

The heffalump is plenty plump
from a boondoggle at the zoo;
an inward trade of honey
for an outward of scoubidou.

[ASIDE: Poets Northwest challenge for February:
write a poem using one or more of these words:
boondoggle, heffalump, serendipity (or serendipitous)
This won't make much sense unless you’re familiar
with the key terms used.]

SAIR-N-DIPITY

Now I ain't a'sayin', "Jest ignore it,"
but don’t go a'lookin' all up an down
an’ don’t go a'searchin' all aroun'—
‘cuz you kin look yerself pure blind.

Sair-n-dipity's somethin' good ya find
when ya ain't even lookin' for it.

100201

SHARED WORKSPACE

Clickety, clickety, click-click-clack!
Unless I focus on my own,
his keyboarding makes me groan.
Clickety, clickety, click-click-clack!

[ASIDE: Actually, I rarely notice. I was just
listening for inspiration and that’s what I heard.]

* * *

Animals, Weather, Time

2010-02-01T19:03:00.000-08:00

* * *

100131

ATTUNED

I love it when he whistles and laughs
and jokes with the cats;
their ears swivel to tune him in;
they climb onto his lap if it’s available;
they gently paw his face, stroke his cheek,
then settle in to ride the warm rhythms
of his chest. "More," they say. "More!"

100130

SNOW DAY

Deer braved the yard today,
where they cautiously fed.
Cats braved the snow for birds.
Birds braved the cats for bread.

100129

WEATHER
WISHERS

What?
You didn’t expect
more snow to fall?

Please.
It’s January,
after all!

100128

BLAST!

"Brace yourselves,"
weathercasters scold,
rhapsodizing over sleet and ice.

Hmmph. That isn't nice; it's cold!

100127

TIME PIECE

"Time flies," Eagle cries.

"Time flies," Frog sighs,
"snatchin’ you up like some bug
that its flickin’ tongue has tazed.
Oh. Time flays," croaks Frog, amazed.
"Time flays," Horse neighs.

"Time flows," Raven crows.

"Time flows," Bear knows,
"driftin’ us along with gentle dreams
of polar ice an’ siftin’ snow.
Ah. Time floes," sighs Bear, mid-doze.
"Time floes," Whale blows.

"Time flees," buzz Bees.

"Time flees," Dog breathes,
"bitin’ our hides to set us movin’,
then lightin’ out; that irritatin’ tease!
Ooh. Time fleas," Dog moans, aggrieved.
"Time fleas," Cat agrees.

[ASIDE: I wanted to leave out quotation marks because they
were so cumbersome and distracting, but that didn't work.]

100126

RELAXED FIT

“When you retire,” his buddies asked,
looking at him a bit askance,
“who, at your house, will wear the pants?”

“Myself,” he winked, with a cheerful glance.
“Of course, I’ll be wearing putter pants.”

100125

TWENTY-TWENTY

Best gift so far,
this twenty-ten—
contact lenses.

I see again!

100124

TOO LATE

I missed a meeting
I meant to attend;
there’s no way to regroup,
recoup, or amend.

100123

BUZZARDS

“Unclean!” they’re seen—

“Untouchable!
Gnarly-headed grotesques. Fearsome
Underlings. Awful offal-eaters.
Horrid things on wings!”

Of this, buzzards are oblivious—
as they are of praise from students
of their ways, who say, “It’s official.
Buzzards are good to us. Beneficial.”

They recycle and renew.

Like morticians, beauticians, mothers,
menials, and multitudes of others
(maintenance workers, trash collectors,
hazardous waste operators, plumbers,
and sanitation crews, to name a few)—
discretely and with daily diligence,
they efface life’s ugliness.

They lift in air like dreams.

For those with eyes to see—
such elegance, such grace!

100122

LOOKOUT

At my north-sky facing view,
two trapezoidal windows
show through to a vast expanse
of icy blue; slightly smudged
with gray and white. But—
not a single buzzard in sight.

100121

MEAT OR POISON

One man’s crumpet
is another man’s strumpet.
One woman’s jackpot
is another one’s crackpot.

[ASIDE: Just playing with words, which,
like old stereotypes and clichés, are also
one person’s meat and another’s poison.]

100120

WINTER THUNDER

Startling!

Like a midnight pounding at your door
in the secret-code cadence of a comrade.

SELF-EMANCIPATION

First you have to make it okay
with yourself to think about
what you might possibly want.

Then you have to decide that,
yes, it’s okay to actually want.

Next you allow yourself to
full-heartedly accept
wanted and waited-for things.

After that, permission to pursue
is a natural progression.

In fact, you stand self-revealed
as a natural progression.

100119

CHARM SCHOOLED

It’s hard enough to
charm life into beneficence
when you’re an ingénue;
much less, a nongénue.

ASPIRANT

As if either is a place,
somewhere between seven and seventy,
I got used to living. I expected to expect
every day another day, and every day
three square meals, slow or quick,
and all my blessings double-dipped.

Little plain-old mortal me
aspired to immortality: unending life,
and not just that—ease, abundance, health,
pleasing occupation, and an inside track
to bliss. It hasn’t happened—yet
I’m caught by the idea. First, I’ve heard,
you go through death and back
near-endless times. Or not.

* * *

Writer's Work

2010-01-17T20:04:00.000-08:00

* * *

100117

WELCOME ASSIST

Tell me something, Muse.
Make my fingers move,
make this paper speak—

“I am valley depth.
I am mountain peak.
Before the any were,
before the all shall end,
I am what I seek.”

100116

WRITE ON

I write on the insides
of envelopes, on the backsides
of sales slips, on the margins
of magazine pages. . .

I write on life, death,
cosmos, humanity, nature,
emotion, language, imagination,
revelation, paradox,
cabbages, kings, the insides
of envelopes, the backsides
of sales slips, the margins
of magazine pages.
I write on and on and on. . .

100115

BEFRIENDING
THE ENEMY

Alright, pain.
Enter in.
Do your worst.
I will do better.

100114

HERE. WITH.

H ere, it clear.
O ther place, I no belong.
M y people with.
E very other place be wrong.

100113

BARE SCAT

exposed
upon the white expanse,
yet scarcely trackable—
a scribbled trail
of thought-droppings

100112

ESSENCE

Life is given,
not a given.

100111

AWAITED ONE

Wonder
of my wondering—
who are you?

Face to face,
some time, some place,
will it be meet
we meet?

You,
who will discover me—
what discovery
will you be?

* * *

Moods & Foods

2010-01-10T09:50:00.000-08:00

* * *

100110

HAPPY MEAL

- Milk
- Bread
- P.B.
- Jelly

Such a friendly way
to fill a belly!

100109

CLICKETY CLACK

I got off track.

Somewhere back, I got off track.
Now I roam alone—alak!—
except for dog and stick and sack.

I make my home in any shack
and then move on, but never back.
Somewhere back, I got off track

100108

ICY HOT

It’s cold enough
without those icy blasts
whistled in
by various western winds
through various western windows.

Our log-home interior
stratifies by degrees;
to descend the stairs
is to descend the thermometer.

The cats beg for outdoor excursions,
but when offered an open door
they freeze mid-departure
and scramble back inside.

Human interactions
take an occasional chilly plunge,
paradoxically threatening conflagration.
This is the only sense in which
our cabin has a fever.

100107

MIXED BREW

Here’s the news,
fresh and hot—
tea plus coffee
does not equal toffee.

100106

EMPTY MIND

fingers and thoughts
suspended
over keyboard

* * *

Winter Mix

2010-01-05T08:05:00.000-08:00

* * *

100105

DEAR GOD!

I have this—but I want more;
I want that, with every pore.

I have things that I adore;
I have merchandise galore—
things in use and things in store—
but I want more, and more, and more.

Thanking? —Something I abhor.
Asking? —Even though it’s such chore,
once again, I implore,
“Please, Sir, may I have some more?”

[ASIDE: As I enjoyed a warm shower this morning,
I realized how full my life is of simple pleasures
that I take for granted and that most human beings
have never once experienced.]

100104

PEEK-A-BOO-HOO

All those days
being discreet,
effacing myself,
trying to hide.
Such effort!
And you weren’t
even looking.

100103

NIGHT VISITOR

There’s no gift like a giver—
and the One who gave us sight
and touch and hearing
visited last night,
leaving a world of stillness
wrapped in winter white.

DISMAL DECADE

Bad as it was, it’s over now—
the decade of the Aughts—
and would have been much better,
had we fulfilled our Oughts.

100102

BLUE—WHO KNEW? (for Carrie)

I learned tonight—
a Blue Moon's not blue;
just the second one
in a month with two.

[ASIDE: As for me, I learned online today that this date
can be written 2010-01-02 or "20100102" which reads
the same backwards or forwards. Such a palindrome
will not recur for ages.]

* * *

New Year Musings

2010-01-01T11:26:00.000-08:00

* * *

100101

NEW-YEAR DAWN

Some suns
(of course, there’s only one)
appear
at start of day or year
so loud.
BOOM! quite bright
and rowdy.

I’m enamored of today’s
and proud.
It gently burned its way
through overlays
of cloud.

SECOND HELPINGS

A word’s a tool
to help you think,
and it has tools
like pen and ink.

A HOT NEW YEAR!

Party early! Party late!
Dance! Have fun!

January one—
New Year’s come.
Mama’s got a hot new date!

SOURCE MATERIAL

If I asked my muse
for a music score,
or novel, or sitcom script,
would she roar
with laughter
or fury—
then slam the door?

Maybe
she would kiss me.

All I know, so far,
is she gives me
what she gives me.

SENSITIVE

“Emma!”
I call to our blind kitty,
“It’s a new year—
can you tell?”

“Oh, Mom!”
her posture replies,
“I can’t even tell
if it’s a new day.”

For a split second,
I believe her.

(20)10: 01/01

This date
looks like
binary code:
100101.

So let me
make this
poem brief
(no ode):

“100101”
Okay, I’m done.

MUSE ENTHUSED

The Muse you choose—
No, it’s a mutual thing!
One’s the pong to the other’s ping.

Sometimes you’re carping
on your Muse’s ways.
Sometimes she’s harping
on your own delays.

Sometimes you’re waiting
at your Muse’s door.
Sometimes she’s pacing
your draft-strewn floor.

Be there for her, the Muse you choose.
You don’t want your Muse to snooze!

[ASIDE: Thank you, Muse, for nixing “ding-dong” as the
source of the word-pair in the third line of this poem.]

* * *

Life's Omega and Alpha

2010-01-01T11:12:00.000-08:00

* * *

091231

OMEGA AND ALPHA (First Draft; see "ASIDE" below)

the last of things last meal last cigarette last word last of the Mohicans
the phases of pupa, larva, etc… not so precise
last of it can be the least of it… the first of something else
but what is significantly new from one calendar day to the next?
one deck of cards can be played an umpteen thousand ways
or is there really a progression; something imposed? deposed? supposed?
I’ve probably been taught and have forgotten why my culture celebrates
the turning of the year on January 1st
for there are Nature’s laws and timings—solstices, etc.
year like rosary beads with holy days and holidays, the Ave’s and Our Fathers
along our way though the days
the turn and tip or tilt of earth, the counter-tilt of moon
I’d like to see the southern constellations
he said “I’m going to write a book; 3 pages a day for a year.”
that’s a lot of thinking. no, ruminating, questioning, researching.
one kind of thinking is like that… like opening the valve.
another is to filter, clarify, distill.
it’s all about what you will
I suppose at New Year’s we celebrate the going and the coming,
the end and the beginning, the—
not the Alpha and Omega, but the Omega and the Alpha…
the whatever next that follows what we know
what we knew and did—the flow, the open valve, and New year’s
is the water treatment.
for half the world at solstice time… the Icarus idea…
at the same moment parts of earth and parts of humankind are in
the most cold phase; others are in the most-hot, and at the equator,
the change is minimal
the turning of a year—how profound do we want to make that?
ho-hum or humongous?
our perceived life may be a paint-by-numbers, but we can change t
he color scheme, or disregard the lines, or simply
open the paints and inhale the fumes
the last laugh last breath last morsel last drop

[ASIDE: I made a typo when I first titled this:
“OMEGA AND ALPHA (First Drat)”
Today, as I watched the beautiful dawn unfold,
many poems appeared in various stages of completion.
This particular one is so lengthy and intimidating that
I don’t know if I can refine it in a year. So I offer it as
an example of the writing/creation process for anyone
who might be interested. So far, the only reworking
is to undo some typo's or shorten some lines.]

091230

SOMEONE’S LIFE

Someone has to live this life
as if it matters—must be bold,
assuming that each seed
it grows and scatters
will rebound a hundredfold.

Someone has to live this life
out in the open, bare,
ready to be stared at, stare.

Someone has to live this life
from beginning to end,
meandering through
its fair-to-middling middle.

Someone has to delve the riddle
of what is mess, what success,
and what to make
of waylayal and betrayal.

Someone has to live this life
in tuition to intuition.

Someone has to open to light,
thrilling at first and second sight.

Someone has to die the death
that follows every followed breath.

Someone has to live this life
in all its mundane glory—

Someone has to tell the story

[ASIDE: This poem was nearly or partly lost.
It disappeared from my computer and had to be
reconstructed from memory. I am so proud of the attempt;
it gives me more confidence in my mind and muse.
What/who is a muse? If you’re engaged with one, you know. ]

* * *

God and Mortality

2009-12-30T09:12:00.000-08:00

* * *

091229

WRITING AT ODD ANGLES

How I love a pencil
when I write in bed!
I can seldom count on ink
like I can count on lead.

WRITING TOOLS

Tonight,
I’m writing with a Papermate
Sharpwriter #2.

(Every paper needs a mate—
some sharp writer who
helps to maximize its worth,
bringing quickened thoughts to birth.)

BODY WRAP (for Ado)

When did my skin get so thin?
It’s like waxed paper crumpled
or an old silk-tissue sheath
I let get stained and rumpled.

[ASIDE: Although I was glancing at my own skin when
writing this, the poem when done aroused feelings of
connection with my friend and "adopted mother" Ado,
who recently died.]

091228

QUALIFICATIONS

You don’t have to kill yourself
looking for a job—at least not
the one that advertised:
"No expirence necessary."

THRILL OF A LIFETIME

When I went to Russia,
I walked the streets alone.

Well, who would want a
group or troupe
when one can walk alone?

LIGHT OF HEART (for Susan)

May we be thankful
today for the light,
which fills each of our lives
with love and delight
and, next to each sunspot,
shows all the more bright.

[ASIDE: Susan’s 10 most frequently used words on Facebook are:
thankful, today, may, little, more, our, which, sunspot, each, and light.]

PROSECUTORIAL IMMUNITY

If you are in a position
to stop a murder or other crime
and do nothing to prevent it,
you can be held liable
as an accessory to the crime—
unless, of course, you’re God.

CODE VIOLATION

I don’t enjoy washing cockroaches
down the drain and I suspect
they’re not thrilled either.
Why do I do what doesn’t make us happy?

CAVEAT PRE-EMPTOR

Here’s some advice,
straight on the level—
a bargain’s no bargain
that’s made with the devil.

ACE IN THE HOLE

Dad’s the king of comedy.
Mom’s a drama queen.
Brother—what a joker!

Our home is quite a scene.
(There are no guards
in this mental ward.)

In this place, I'm an ace.
I live in a house of cards.

CHILLED

Our bed is cold;
I'm about to freeze.
Come warm me up.
Come catch some zzz's.
Quit dallying—
you're such a tease!

“I guess I might—
if you’d said please!”

DIVINE INFERNAL

God is a heavenly
Being of love,
or so the scriptures tell.

His master plan
included man.
(What in hell
was He thinking of?)

091227

BE A PRO

Write as if.
That's your gift.

See it done.
Make it fun.
The odds against—
though stacked sky high—
are odds against
you must outfly.

Write as if.
That's your gift

091224

WASS AILING ME?

Christmas is here;
that time of hobnobbing.
All of my friends
are busy eggnogging.

I should feel cheer—
instead, I am sobbing
over a tooth
that set my jaw throbbing.

Wait! It’s come clear—
the cure for my flogging!
Drown it in beer.
Go glugging and grogging!

‘TIS THE NIGHT
BEFORE CHRISTMAS

I'm making a list,
checking it twice—
last minute shopping
for naughty and nice.

091222

IMPOUNDED

Bewildered--
that is my first impression
of the kennel occupants;
the dogs for whom life has
so abruptly changed.

I wonder, do they eventually
acclimate, resigning themselves
to concrete, gravel and chain-link?
Or is there even time for that?

Their bodies
express everything so candidly—
history, temperament, thought.

Love and pain co-reside in their eyes.

In this place, they receive
excellent care by caring people—
but they know, and we know
that life should not be like this.
This is not right.

We are brethren,
designed to be free—
following our hearts and noses
over the wide, wondrous,
sun-warmed earth—
not chain-linked to, or from, anything.

SEVEN WEEKS

People don't stay kid-cute long.
As for kittens, the window of cuteness
closes quickly.

At the shelter, animal discards
are caged and dated.
No matter their age now,
the young cats at pickup
were almost invariably
seven weeks old.
Something ended then
that can't be recaptured.

BARGAINER

Given time,
I swear I will.

Let me live
until until.

091221

THOU SHALT (for Ethan)

Hey, Yaweh!
Hey, Krishna!
Hey, Allah!
Who died and
made you God?

[ASIDE: I got to thinking about that strangely-worded
final sentence which is so often bandied about.]

* * *

Writer at Christmas

2009-12-26T07:11:00.000-08:00

* * *

091225

DENTAL FLAWS

Hot and cold,
sweets (like cake)—
these things cause
my tooth to ache.

Though I beg
the pain to slake,
eyes and jaws
and cheeks partake.

091224

VERSE-ATILE

What shall we make a poem of—
a feather or a father?
A roux or kangaroo?

What shall we make a poem of?
Anything will do.

091223

DECEMBER 23

We're two days shy of Christmas,
said Adam, and—I believe—
that means tonight is Christmas
eve eve, Eve.

091222

WRITING
ASSIGNMENT

Others build
or grow
or fix.

Others mother.
I do this.

* * *

Winter and Aging

2009-12-20T18:02:00.000-08:00

* * *

091220 (for Zach)

SNOW NAKED

Trees—
the elder
and the younger—
withdraw their energies
from these winter
silences and
furies.

091219

SURPRISE

Buzzard babies—
such a sight!
Who’d have thought
they fluff out white?

091218

IMMINENT DOMAIN

My chores were done,
and more to spare.

I headed for my easy chair.
Alas—the cat was sitting there!

“Forgive my breach of happy purrs,”
I told him, “but it’s time to stir.
So take my lap or I’ll take yours.”

091217

MUSE TO POET:

Yay! Hurray!
Oh, frabjous day!

You wanted a poem
joyful and snappy—
so, now are you happy?

BEYOND

After aftermath;
some nice surprise.

After all,
even winter dies.

091216

REMARKING TIME

For the unemployed,
meanings get reassigned:

- holiday/workday
- time on/time off

Vices become versas.

091215

NON SOM

Call it the “night bubble”—
that wide-awake, fret-tending time
between episodes of
sleep-it-under-the-rug.

Mind is a fitful child.
Might as well rise
and take care of it;
might as well walk the floors.

091214

AS LONG AS IT TAKES

Give me a word;
I'll give you a rhyme.

I'll give you a poem
if you have the time.

TOUCH OF THE DIVINE

Thank you, thank you,
powers that be,
for this human-inborn ability
to apprehend divinity!

091213

FUNNING ON EMPTY

"I'm in a bind," the poet whined.
"On my quota, I'm behind.
If there's a poem in my mind,
it's a poem I can't find."

091212

NOT OLD ENOUGH

I was born three-score
years ago, plus one.
And so, for Social Security
I'm too young.

For Medicare too; too young.
I'm sixty-one and I don't care.
I'm sixty-one; still young!

091211

DOWNSIZING

Goodbye,
right eye;
goodbye, left.

Farewell,
today's tooth;
tomorrow's.

Bone, muscle, skin—
your services;
suspend.

Goodbye,
dear body;
farewell, friend.

091210

WANDERERS, SQUANDERERS

Wasting, wasted, living lost lives
(barren, enervated, unenhanced),
we sleepwalk through paradise
oblivious, numb, self-entranced.

091209

GIFTED

Angelic?
Devilish?

Madness?
Sanity?

Gift of divinity:
our humanity.

091208

SHHHH

noise
annoys

091207

NOCTILUCID (For Rick)

Weatherman, we love you dearly.
You scan the skies day-month-yearly.

You’re a wizard.
You’re a wit:

"Behold that cloud, night-lit!
It’s more than cirrus merely;
it's noctilucent, clearly."

* * *

Scenes & Dreams

2009-12-06T20:15:00.000-08:00

* * *

091206

HOW SUN BEAMS

In summertime
the day is long;
in wintertime
it's dusk and dawn.

SNOW MAN

Santa gives gifts,
but what does he get?

-Cookies and milk.
-Snowy, cold, wet.

091205

THERE IS A SEASON

Up around the corner from the
de-horned buck head lying centered
in the road this morning
is another deer head
lying centered in the road.

This is a residential area.

I imagine the message might be:
"Behold my prey, my mastery!"

I imagine the message might be:
"My kind will out-survive your kind."

I imagine the message might be:
"Boo! Ha-ha ha-ha-ha!"

Last week the herd at dawn
spooked when crossing the road,
skittering back and forth.

Vehicles stopped and lingered.

I imagine the message might be:
"Such wildness! Such beauty—
so vulnerable to me!"

091204

JUDICIAL RECUSAL

I don’t know why
you do the way you do;
your actions make no sense.
There’s no way to judge you
not knowing what you’ve been through
or what you’re up against.

091203

GRATITUDE LIST

Happy for happiness,
earned or unearned.

Glad for life lessons,
learned or not learned.

Grateful for friendship,
now and to be.

Thankful for moments
you share with me.

091202

UNSTRINGING THE BOW

Maybe it's a healthy sign
(one of life’s benign designs)
to follow work and weeping
with calm and over-sleeping.

091201

APPOINTED ROUNDS (for Jarrod)

I will be there. I'm a giver.
Come rain or sleet, I deliver.
Snow or no-snow,
I won’t be a no-show!

SLATED FOR A CLEAN SLATE

Prepare us, we said
to the much older couple.
What do we have in store;
what's likely to happen?

Well, she offered,
he used to forget appointments,
so I learned to remind him.
But now he forgets; then I forget;
and after that it's nice because
we both forget we forgot.
Later, when something reminds us,
we start over fresh.
We're old, but every day is new.

SUCH STUFF AS DREAMS

Emma is running upside down on the bed.
Both paws are twitching and,
under that fluffy tail, so are her feet.

I ran in my own dream last night,
one in which a cat was euthanized.

Supposedly, every dream-character
is really an aspect of the dreamer.
In the case of last night, that would
have me be very sad, angry, and dead.

I’ve heard this too—it works
to pose a question before sleeping
and expect an answer via the night’s dream.
Tonight I may ask about. . .

Well, that was quick!
But catnaps are supposed to be,
aren’t they, Emma?

091130

CHOICE

What is your wish,
asked genie of me.
Do you want to be good?
Or wealthy? Or free?

I have my wish!
I choose to be me,
trusting that me
is a good thing to be.

091129

WATCHING
THE GAME

quiet dim low
my light

i am angling for death
come on in
buddy
put your feet up
have a beer

091128

VISION OF BEAUTY

Query:
Online, your icon is a symbol
and your picture is an avatar.
Why don’t you use a photo?
Are you hiding something?
Are you ugly?

Response:
I look just like Audrey Hepburn
did in the movies.

Aside:
I open my eyes and take in
the scene.

* * *

Thanksgiving and Other Times

2009-11-26T18:46:00.000-08:00

* * *

091127

NONE FOR ME, THANKS

Your banquet looks yummy;
so luscious and arty—
but my tummy’s in turmoil
from yesterday’s party.

091126

TODAY’S PRAISE

On this day, I’m thankful for:

Loving kin. A bed. A cup.
Sleeping till the sun comes up.
Ease of breath. Strength of limb.
Words and thoughts—like seraphim,
blunderbuss, marmalade and octopus.

On this day, I’m grateful for:

Time to see, to think, to write
and distill this world’s delight.

SO MANY FACETS!

Lauren and Lindsey:
sobriety, whimsey.

Lindsey and Lauren:
familiar, fresh, foreign.

[ASIDE: My friend's granddaughters;
wonderful girls.]

091125

BITTER, SALTY,
SOUR, SWEET

More pronounced
with passing years:
these four flavors
of our tears.

091124

WILD OATS, THEN OATMEAL

Dear underdressed and oversexed—
You're so cute!
Enjoy it while you got it.

Whether you were given it, earned it,
learned it, bought or thought it—
enjoy it while you got it.

Then, overdressed and undersexed,
enjoy what you get next.

091123

INVERSIONS

Sunny. Cloudy.
Sunny. Cloudy.
I'm managing okay,
but how is the weather?

091122

SOUL GOAL

To feel it, be it, flow it—
to love and be loved
and know it.

091121

GET OFF THE BUS

It isn’t business anymore;
everything’s a rush
of hurried-this, shortened-that,
acronyms, and such.

It isn’t business anymore.
Gee whiz, it’s biz –
it isn’t even bus!

091120

THANKS

It's hard-times times—
playing hide-and-seek
in the dark with fate—
but
I'm grateful to be grateful
for all that doesn't grate.

091119

WEEK DAZE

MON. No fun.
TUE. No clue.
WED. Half-dead.
THUR. Wake. Stir.
FRI. Fly high.
SAT. Fall flat.
SUN. So done.

091118

WHAT OUR COWORKERS SAID

“You’re the first people
that it happened to
that we’re really sad
it happened to.”

YESTERDAZE

Stories about feelings;
that is the past—
stories about feelings
about things that don't last.

COM-YOU-NICATION

"Dibs after you!"

It's smart,
even in a two-person household
to stake your claim.

MY BEST WORK

Besides background and references,
the company's director of communications
job application required six examples
of personally-written documents
as evidence of expertise.

For the sixth sample,
the kamikaze in me submitted a poem.

091117

WHAT, AGAIN?

Life keeps revealing to me
how absent-minded I am
through the many things
I forget to do
again and again and again.

091116

DISCERNMENT

Then, times were good;
prosperity came. We rode its crest.
Oh, how we were blessed!

Now, times are bad,
but gratitude is unrepressed.
Oh, how we are blessed!

091115

BIKINI GIRL

You think we’re the kind
who disapproves—
but we have news!

Hon, we too
had our time in the sun.

* * *

[ASIDE: Cleaned out old papers the other day
and found some poem snippets which became the basis
for some of the poems in this batch.]

* * *

Mostly Scaredy Things

2009-11-14T13:16:00.000-08:00

***

091114

I’M SCARED, SOMETIMES

I’m scared of the playground
I’m scared of getting lost
I’m scared of loud noises
I’m scared of my parents yelling
I’m scared of dark places
I’m scared of what’s under that rock
I’m scared of bugs crawling on me
I’m scared of slimy things
I’m scared of pinchy things

I’m scared of thunder
I’m scared of the woods
I’m scared of spiders
I’m scared of numbers and counting
and being dumb

I’m scared of having to tell
I’m scared of bullies
I’m scared of smashed animals,
blood and stinky bodies

I’m scared of being left behind
I’m scared of icicles that might fall on me
I’m scared of Christmas trees that might burn
I’m scared of school

I’m scared to die
I’m scared of things I think up
I’m scared of being hollered at
I’m scared of some men who seem icky
and want to hug me

I’m scared of too much to learn
I’m scared of tests
I’m scared of forgetting
I’m scared of not knowing
I’m scared of the big kids

I’m scared of telephone poles
I’m scared of losing something important
I’m scared of not being picked
I’m scared of peeing in my pants
I’m scared of hurting my dog or kitty
I’m scared of getting sick
I’m scared of being ugly

I’m scared of scary stories
I’m scared of burning my hand
I’m scared of biting my tongue
I’m scared of losing my homework
I’m scared of falling in the water
I’m scared of trees that look like monsters
when the sun goes down

I’m scared of medicine
I’m scared of barking dogs
I’m scared of thorn bushes
I’m scared of turning out bad
I’m scared of money
I’m scared of no money
I’m scared of angry people
I’m scared of giving the wrong answer
Did I do okay?

IDIOT

It’s like this—
the past is a stack of coins
you had once and spent.
And now is the dime
you swore you’d turn on
when things got dicey.
And—why aren’t you moving,
you little beggar?

091114

POSITIVELY UNCERTAIN

While wondering about wonders
that this life can bring,
I wonder what would happen
if I said “yes” to everything.

091113

CLASSIFIED

The job ad
didn’t give all the particulars,
but enough—

Compensation:
commiserate with experience.

091112

WORKER TOLL

Business is booming
in crescendos of collapse.
Workers touch up resumes,
skills, and epitaphs.

091111

CHANGE MASTERY

Toying with a tidbit
picked up yesterday:
that habits of perception trap.

Want change?
Pay attention. Seek surprises.
Notice what is different.
Be alert to the extraordinary.

CALLED

“Come?” my friend asked,
in town for the night.

“Come!” I replied,
out the door in full flight.

[ASIDE: The call was to come to the restaurant
next to the hotel, for food and visiting.]

091110

OTHERS WITH SECRETS

You want to tell.
You want to explain.

You want one other person
to know your story
(not to carry your burden
but just to know you carry it).

Keeping silent anyway,
you realize or conclude—

Others valiantly harbor secrets.
It’s okay to admire yourself.

091109

HIT AND MISSED

Yesterday, guinea hens
roamed the highway,
where they'd never been before.

Now the flock is penned,
except for the stray
who, well, simply is no more.

091108

NIGHT WATCH

I’ve taken to
sleeping by day,
writing by night.

Our house is quiet now,
except for sea-surf sounds
from the other side of the bed.

091107

REVIEW

It was a good time to live.
A good place, too.

I made my
thousand-and-one choices.
I have no regrets,
that I know of,
yet.

It seemed wise
and courteous
not to bear children.

It seemed absurd
to take faith on faith.

It seemed that life
would get better and better
and it did,
for awhile,
for some.

It was a good time to live.
A good place, too.
A good life.

I have faith.

091106

COPING

Sometimes he crashes
and sleeps, like now.
Other times, I do.

Together,
whatever's past, future or now,
we'll get through.

091105

EXCHANGE

at eagle-cry:
people outdoors
cats indoors

091104

GRAY-SKY SCENE

buzzards
slowly
air-swirling:

connect-the-dot
funnel cloud

091103

MY POMES

My pomes are for me
an’, Darlin’-poo,
if you like ‘em,
they're for you.

091102

SOOTER

Awkwardly
an’ awkwordly,
brangin' odd gifts,
an' discombob’latin'
everthang,
crisis comes a'courtin'.

091101

GIVE?

Some
say soon
they might.

Some
already gave
their mite.

091031

DEJA VOODOO

Each October,
there's one night
of ghastly horror,
gore and fright—
if I remember right.

KOOKY MONSTERS

Maybe this sounds kooky,
but things are getting spooky!

091030

OKAY BY ME

it’s equally—
i don’t know why

when low low low
when high high high

i don’t care
if i live or die

091029

OPERATION OVERLOAD

Print was bad enough
in any form.

Now media onslaughts
are the norm.

091028

AT EASE

Home, free;
liberty!

Liberty;
home free!

091027

NEW SPRINT

Hurry! Hurry!
Narrow the topics,
the columns, the page.
Reduce the margins
and everyone’s wage.

Quickly Quickly!
Consolidate functions.
Restructure or merge.
Cut budgets and staff.
Don’t anyone splurge!

Now! Now!
Assuage the subscribers
by slashing each fee.
They demand a free press—
literally!

091026

FINIS

I’d better do my writing
while I still can hold a thought;
the day is fast approaching
when all I’ll have is naught.

091025

MUTANTS

My poems start out happy,
then they make a twist.
Somehow they turn sappy,
woebegone or pissed.

091024

HALT

You can stop death
and all heartbreaks.

Just stop nature.
That's all it takes.

091023

WITHDRAWAL

Did I blunder,
posting that first twit?
How long has it been?

Now I wonder—
can a “twitter quitter”
become anonymous again?

091022

THE END

No matter what I write,
if I polish it awhile,
when the piece is finished,
I finish with a smile.

091021

WRITTEN OFF

Barnes & Noble, Amazon,
Wal-Mart, Target, and so on—
everywhere one looks,
they’ve slashed the price of books.

Wait, here’s a coincider:
I’ve just become a writer!

***

In and Out of Time

2009-10-20T18:10:00.000-07:00

***

091020

WITCH-DOCTOR'S ORDERS (for Kate)

Tell you what, my little Munchkin,
when your grades say you are flunkin',
when your life gets stink-stank-stunkin',
go dress up like an Egyptian.

Find a party, drink some punchkin,
plunk your head in apple-dunkin',
carve yourself a happy punkin'—
that's my Halloween prescription.

MYSTERY AT SEA

Am I the sea,
the bottle or the note?
Who is the messenger?
Who’s the message for?

Am I the wind,
the sailor or the boat?
What is the message?
Who wrote the note?

PARTNERS IN THE DANCE

Clouds float in air,
flow on air, with air.
Air floats and flows
on land, on sea.

Sea floats, flows, and glides
upon, against the land
which floats upon its
self-made magma sea.

Storms. Volcanoes. Ice and rain.
All is done by gravity
in a dance with levity.

Clouds and air, air and sea,
sea and land, the magma sea
float and flow, enfold, embrace;
in a dance of majesty.

Waves. Tides. Morning dew.
All is done by levity
in a dance with gravity.

[ASIDE: Well, it sounded okay at 1:00 am.]

IMPLEMENTATION

Pen, you will have to do
the writing tonight;
my basket-brain is empty,
sifted, drained—
except to the extent
of forming letters
and noticing that my implement
is a pencil.
Pencil, you will have to do
the writing tonight.

091019

SCHOOLED

What, my child, did you learn today?
Did you learn your numbers: 1-2-3?
Did you learn your letters: A-B-C?
Tell me what you learned today.

I learned, the same as yesterday,
how mistaken I can be.

MERCY!

When people die
horrible deaths
after, or not after,
horrible lives,
the tendency is to think
there must be
some horrible reason.
That’s horrible.

FRAGILE

Oh, little dew-drop world,
unto yourself enfurled,
soon, I fear, you’ll wink away—
heat and hate won’t let you stay.

RICHER BY THIRDS

A pome! A pome!
My kingdom for a pome!

“Now is the whiner of our discontent
made glorious summer-upper
of your tale, non-victorious.”

There you have your pome, your words.
My pay, like Gaul, divide in thirds.

ESCAPAIDS

One benefit of writing,
I’ve heard many a
published author say,
is linking to like-minded souls
who look at life your way.

Hmm, as I write these very words,
distracting myself
from chores and scares,
I envision a host of kindred souls
distracting themselves from theirs.

EPITAPPED

Empty, still, here I sit;
all my write done writ.

Quiet, still, here I lie:
I done writ, but why?

TIMEBOUND

Change has come;
swift, profound,
bizarre.

Nowadays,
clocks aren't wound—
we are.

STUDYING FOR FINALS

Let the school burn down!
When young, didn’t we wish it?
Lessons were so hard to learn.
Let the darn thing burn.

Let the world blow up!
Now older, don’t we risk it?
Home-and-classroom: let it blow?
Armaggedon? —No!

EVER’DAY POTE

I make a pome ever’day,
sittin’ home or on the roam,
seein’ woes a better way;
turnin’ ever’ gloom to gloam.

I make a pome ever’day.
I make ever’ day a pome.

091018

CRITIQUE

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
you reflect me not at all.
With the stresses weighed on me,
I should look a hundred three!

AT THE DOOR

Expecting Death
and my demise,
I open to his heavy knock.

“Your time’s not up,”
God’s workman sighs.
“I’ve come to wind your clock.

091017

CRUX

Enemies—
lovingly offer them
your hearth and your heart.

Love may seem a kind of death,
but there’s no survival apart.

091016

TRUTH OR CONSEQUENCES

Sort the truth?
Let things be?

I wouldn’t care,
particularly—
except for how
the truth may be
particularly bad for me.

091015

NOTICED

Life is partly what I make it,
partly what I allow.
And how I experience my future
is how I experience now.

091014

OUTRAGE

These losses, these changes
(so feared and so hated)
should not occur!

But are we so sure?
Which cosmic laws
have been violated?

SCENE YESTERDAY

One crow
and three buzzards,
in circling flight.

Oddly, the crow
was picking a fight.

091013

AUTUMN EXCURSION

One slight departure
from our daily-duty itinerary
creates a further one—

taking us farther away,
looping us into the next,
and so on—

till we find ourselves lost

in each moment’s timeless speed,
gliding down a curving country road;
slipping into fall.

***

Eclectic

2009-10-12T19:02:00.000-07:00

***

091012

AAAAHMMM...

Make a face—
a smiley face!

Let smiley feelings come.
That’s one way to meditate.
Easy. Simple. Fun.

091011

LETHE

In the pantry of her brain,
the cheese
is her stored memories.

Lately it’s becoming plain;
some mouse
is nibbling at that cheese.

091010

POETRY READING

The chance to read
my pomes out loud
to one person
or a crowd
makes me humble,
glad, scared, proud.
“You want: me?”

When that chance comes,
I am wowed.
“Really? Me?”

091009

A TRUTH TO TRY

Then is just a story
made up by the mind.
Now is always friendly.
Now is always kind.

091008

APPROVAL

The mark
of endorsement
as a friend
is being entrusted
with other friends.

091007

BLESSINGS

When you’re young,
you’re smart
if you learn a thing or two.

There’s so much to see!

When you’re old,
you’re lucky
if you forget a thing or three.

091006

SENIORITY

Look! I made it to old;
not by being smart or bold,
or doing right instead of wrong—
just by being young too long.

091005

ZOMBIE

insomniac nights
maniac days

moonlit, sunlit
grays on grays

one long blur
of dismal haze

091004

IT

What is claimed,
I’ve not yet met—
but it is nearby,
beckoning.

091003

NEAR-FROZEN ASSETS

As talent, ambition,
even body grow cold—
how hold it together;
this life on hold?

091002

AS I AM

born
some several score
ago

born again
daily

a child, a child, a child

a baby

091001

NONEMPLOYED

Where can I find
a place to stay, a way to pay
(or even a reason to live)
when I can find no home
for what I have to give?

090930

"TREASURE"

No matter what it is,
if you like it or want it—

politicians are trying to grab it,
robbers to nab it,
elites to refine it,
gurus to seek it,
geeks to tweak it—

that’s what defines it.

090929

SILENT DRAMA

The picture window—
enormous, high, and therefore rarely washed—
frames a bright but overcast northern sky.
A spiderweb spans its peak.

The spider is enormous, too;
especially compared to the fly
that races up the pane toward it
in small erratic spurts.

This black-and-white melodrama,
absent of piano accompaniment,
is being played out for my private viewing.
This is not film. It is live theater.
There is no opportunity for intervention.

Higher and higher
the fly climbs;
closer and closer
to imminent doom.

All the while,
my witness role
becomes more and more
excruciating.

Just as the perimeter of the web is breached,
there is a shattering! An illusion falls in shards
as two scenes diverge, separated by a pane of glass.

090928

SOUP KITCHEN SOUP KIT

I count nine tomatoes,
three ears of corn, two onions,
and ten mason jars.

Also laid out
on the butcher-block surface
are squash, peppers, green beans,
spices and other soup ingredients.

"The idea," says the cook,
"is to go out into the garden,
pick anything edible,
put it into a big pot,
and cook enough soup
to make it through the winter."

Frankly, I suggest a recalculation;
he obviously hasn't counted
on drop-in guests.

090927

MAY BE BUSY

Today things went the other way
but yesterday was an ease-off day.

Tomorrow, well, who’s to say?
Tomorrow is another day.

090926

ETHICS

It’s so hard to be a person;
much less, a strictly-honest version.

“Daddy, is there a Santa Claus?”
“Not any more, if there ever was.”

BUGS

There’s always a bug
around somewhere,
everywhere you look—

a spider in a corner,
a cricket in a nook,
an ant, a bee, a fly, a flea,
a bookwork in a book.

LIFE-LONG FRIEND (for Kay)

She was that quiet, friendly sort
who smiles and works and pleases—
part Martha, part Mary;
devoted to us and Jesus.

ESCAPE ARTIST

Do you hear my pencil
scrapin’ on the paper?
Well, I’m makin’ me a pome.

I’m avoidin’ what’s annoyin’.

I’m markin’ paper—
scrapin’, scrapin’—takin’ time
to be escapin’ with a pome.

090925

BB&BBQ B&B

Rain threatened to put a “nix” on
this year’s Bikes, Blues & Barbecue.
But clouds parted!

Soon, bikes farted
along College and Dickson
and every available avenue.

My brother’s bed-and-breakfast
is hosting biker-friends this week;
that is, if they made it to Elkins
and if they ever sleep.

OLD HORIZONS

Do you have a thought for me;
to give, or share, or loan?
Do you have a thought for me?
I’m weary of my own!

SAYS WHO?

Before you impose your creed on me,
please confirm its authority.
If I’m required to defer to you—
how do you know you know it’s true?

Around what intangibles does it revolve
and which of these does it involve?
- Intuition
- Inhibition
- Interpretation
- Inquisition

Did an angel appear and tell you so,
or some preacher’s voice on the radio?
Is there a mother ship with you in tow?
How, pray tell, do you know you know?

***

Fall and All

2009-09-24T09:47:00.000-07:00

***

090924

ALARM

My clock (tock, tock)
and brain (thought, thought)
relentlessly go on,
anticipating dawn.

090923

SUNFLOWERS IN AUTUMN

shower-stall
shower-heads

old monks
in saffron robes
contemplating their navels

090922

LESSON OF THE DREAM

Death is not reality.
Death is just belief.

Love brings life to everything.
Love brings everything to life.

[ASIDE: DREAM -- I shooed some kittens away from underfoot.
Later, I found one killed, thoroughly dead and dehydrated, with a
crushed-in place at the base of the skull. Later, my mother and sisters
also discovered the body, wondring how such a thing could have
happened. I wanted to disown my part; after all, I had done
nothing violent, it was an accident. But, sorrowfully, I admitted
my carelessness. Later, when I caressed its broken body,
holding it against my chest, the kitten revived.]

090921

HORSE FLY

Big to the ears,
big to the eyes,
that fly buzzed near,
Clydesdale-sized.

090920

NINE TWENTY

9:20 on 9/20

it’s then
or thereabouts

or rather
it was then

when
this came about

090919

DOUBLE SURPRISE

Near some steps below the eaves,
underneath a drift of leaves—
ANTS on the deck; there shouldn't be any!
ANTS on the deck; way, way, WAY too many!

090918

DAZZLER

Trailing veils of misty night,
dawn arises pastel-bright;
a nameless color, almost white.

090917

SEPTEMBER SHOWERS

Overcast again; spitting rain
for seven/eight days straight;
nothing to bewail; no one to berate.
IS just is — and gray is great.

090916

NATURAL WONDERS

beside the highway,
some novelties;
each a stunning sight—

pair of hawks
on a power-pole bar,
stationed left and right

peacock at its ease

raccoon in frozen fright

090915

MERE PLOYS

Life keeps changing;
we can't hold on.
I guess we never could.

It doesn't help to be wealthy,
or influential.
It does no good to be good.

090914

SIDELINER

They're playing—
hear them laugh and shout?

Though I don't much
like the game,
I don't like being left out.

090913

AUTONOMOUS

The one you hate
(the only one you can hate)
is inside your skin.

It's a theory at least,
and means at least:
the one who hates you, doesn't.

090912

HIGH SOCIETY (for Cat and Harry)

Words on lives sublime;
words on lives on skids;
words on words, for heavens sake;
words well placed, well paced, well said
make poets
high on poetry
light up like little kids.

090911

LIKABLE

like breath,
like thought,
like joy

in the wings,
on the wing

nature awaits notice

like nothing else,
like everything

090910

GLUM

I can’t giggle, grin or chortle—
I’m too busy being mortal.

090909

NUMBERSTITIOUS

Oh, nine! Oh, nine! Oh, nine!

A number near-sublime
to those many (or those few)
who are oh-so-eager to
put twenty-twelve out of mind.

090908

MULCHING IT OVER

Here's a thought, for what it's worth—
death won't cause a dearth of earth.

090907

ONE LAST CHORE

Well, I b’leeve I’ll rite a pome—
it’s jest that time o’ day

Hey. Play. Way. Nay.
Home. Loam. Comb. Roam.

That’s pretty good, I say.
An’ now I’ll take a time-out, Pard,
‘cuz makin’s pomes is wundrus hard.

ENTERTAINING QUESTIONS

For life, for death,
back and forth we yearn.
How does the one we crave
become the one we spurn?

Of death, of life,
there is much to learn.
Is each one a gift,
or something we must earn?

090906

RISE AND FALL

Do you see the sun?
Do you see the moon?

Do you know. . .
where she goes at night?
where he is at noon?

Across the summer sky,
one passes high; the other low.

Against the winter sky,
they reverse how high they go.

Do you know this slow,
entrancing dance;
more pas de deux than do-si-do?

[ASIDE: "Rise and Fall" - a controlled raising and lowering
of the body while dancing.]

090905

FINALE

1. Ray, 2. Charles, 3. Steve,
4. Martin, 5. James, 6. Taylor, 7. Hank,
8. Aaron, 9. Paul, 10. Harvey, 11. Bill,
“Hey, what are you doing?”
12. Clinton, 13. Roger, 14. Miller, 15. Cole,
16. Porter, 17. Bob, 18. Dylan, 19. Harrison,
20. Ford, 21. Eddie, 22. Murphy, 23. Dean,
24. Martin, 25 Howard, 26. Dean, 27. Michael,
“Huh? Oh, just putting my affairs in order.”
28. Jordan, 29. James, 30. Dean. “Done!”

RECOGNIZE

Everywhere,
they shrink, hide, stare;
they glance or glare—
the angry, lost, or lonely ones.

Be alert, aware. Compare.
We are not the only ones.

090905

PROFESSIONAL (for Rick)

"I'd be the last one to let you down,"
he said.

You know it's true, but still you wonder—
did he come up with that line on his own
or did he read it in a book of phrases for
undertakers?

DEAR FAIRY GODMOTHER

I would like to be in charge—
like Cleopatra on her barge.
And be as smart. And be as pretty.
But most of all, I want a kitty.

DIGITAL COMPUTER

Let me count your fingers.
Let me count your toes.
Five, ten. Five, ten.
Twenty digits, in two rows!

TRAITS

Shorts, not pants.
Intent on toys.
Thin legs.
Round bellies.
Mischief.
Noise.

The older men get,
the more they’re boys.

AN OTHER

My guide is named 13:7.
Do not ask me why.
It's the name I was given.
Do not ask me how.

Maybe it's a pseudonym.
Maybe it's a lie.
I expected Abe or Jim.
I expected, well, a him.
What I got was—wow!

090904

MORE THAN FAMOUS

Little me, little I—
what little hope
of fame have I!

Sun and moon,
earth and sky—
what little need
of fame have I!

VETERAN

I am calm
when hardships come;
partly strong,
partly numb.

BENEFACTOR

give me the gift I need

I don't know what it is
but I know that you know
and I know that you always

give me the gift I need

TABLES TURNED

We encroached on their domain,
snatching up their riches.
Now they've returned to do the same—
those frikkin-sunza-bichuz!

WARZ AND WURS

Alone, not one would hurt a flea—
but what we do collectively!

090904

PULSATIONS

The heart is an entrepreneur,
always love-networking—
circulating, seeking, serving;
always tending its needs.

The heart has twin needs.
It needs to move.
It needs to be moved.

090903

AT THEIR MERCY

Fluorescent-lit:

- chrome
- porcelain
- plastics
- electronics
- crucifixes
- nurses

[ASIDE: Part of the hospital was greenery and warm colors.
Part was gray and sterile and physically cold.]

090902

TRAGICTORY

Childhood:
short, fast rocket-ride.

Adulthood:
long, slow suicide.

090901

POSITIVELY

Life. Beauty. Joy.

Once you remove
impediments,
that's all there is—

Life! Beauty! Joy!

LOST POMES FOUND

090810

CURIOUS

When I was young, I wanted to explore—
learn this and that, see more and more.
I wanted to know the name of each star;
what things were, what things were for.

I never considered how it might be
to be old and poor. Old. Poor. Me.

HOME ALONE

The house is mine
and mine alone—
how I love the feeling!

If I want,
I can—and will—
dance upon the ceiling!

***

Dog Daze

2009-08-30T15:21:00.000-07:00

***

090830

SIMPLE GIFTS

Why rite daily pomes for you?
I got nuthin’ better to do.

SUM SICUT SUM

I think
(or am thought)
therefore I am:
I am as I am.

OBSERVATION

Work. Wealth. Weekends.

These mean nothing
to some people;
everything to others.

A TIME TO EVERY PURPOSE

Up at four, I’m writing.
Done, at five, I sit.
Then I think of crickets:
how’d they know to quit?

POVERTY

Nay! Nay!
No. Nay. Nix!
Money isn’t the problem.
Money isn’t the fix.

090829

COMMENCEMENT

Speak and I will write,
no matter what you say.

For now, I know the way
is to clear the way.

090828

RESISTING GRACE

No! We do not want this.
No! It isn’t right.
Why must this affront us?
Get out of our sight!

090827

ESCORT

Death—it comes
as a friend.
Early. Late.
Again. Again.

090826

OPEN WINDOW

Moisture laden breezes,
starlit balmy nights,
slowly dawning mornings—
summer-end delights.

090825

LOOK AGAIN

The world is as it ever was.
The only change is you;
your insights and your attitudes,
your ever-changing view.

090824

NO DENYING IT!

At two,
he could not have a puppy.
He settled for a guppy.

At four,
he could not have a dog.
He settled for a frog.

Now, at six, it's settled:
by pleas or pouts or kicks,
he WILL have that puppy dog!

090823

PET CHOICE

Why have a dog instead of a cat?

There are two sides to this question:
the side that makes the dog choice
versus the side that makes the cat.

And neither would choose the other;
they'd rather choose a rat.

090822

DOGS

Some of the best people
are not people at all.

090821

A DOG'S WORLD

When a dog waits
till the just-right moment
before coming close...

When, at the next right-moment,
it sets its chin on your knee
or arm, or other just-right part...

And when it raises a brow,
drawing your glance
(and then your full attention)
with its upturned
deep, friendly-sad eyes...

When that happens,
the whole world feels just-right.

090820

THINKING ON DOGS

Another name for a dog
is a cur, but I've never
heard one called one.
Not once. No sir.

Dogs are noble.
Dogs have heart.

When it comes to dogs,
I've not always been smart.
(But usually the dogs were.)

090819

OVERPOPULATION

People have taken up
all the room: now dogs
are not allowed to roam
or cause a cat to scoot.

In fact, there is so little room
that cats have made
themselves at home,
and given dogs the boot.

090818

DOGS HAVE
GONE TO THE DOGS

In bygone days
dogs were large;
even as a pup.
They fed on game
and buried bones,
which later they dug up

Nowadays,
dogs eat pellets
and fit inside a cup.

090817

MADE FOR EACH OTHER

Child brings home puppy, all agog:
"Mother, may I, please?"

This statement's true,
not lame or wild:

Every child should have a dog,
and every dog should have a child.

090816

CEREAL THRILLER

From crows to finches,
has the bird been born
that doesn’t have
a taste for corn?

***

Love and War and In-Between

2009-08-15T12:08:00.000-07:00

***

090815

DECISIONS, DECISIONS

Whether choice or fate,
will you take the bait?

How big a mistake
are you willing to make?

090814

SIDE BY SIDE

Easy lives and hard,
concern and disregard,
life and death—

go side by side
breath by breath.

090813

BOND OF BROTHERS

Friends of freedom:
friends we are,
though our countries
be at war.

090812

SLOW AT WRITIN’

Ain’t writ no "pome" in awhile.
Ain’t twittered none, at least.

Wanna git fast an’ versa-tile
a‘fore I git de-ceased.

090811

HUH? SAY AGAIN?

Lots of telemarketers lately.

After the ring, hello, and long pause
and before hanging up, he says,
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but
no one at this house has diabetes."

090810

LOVE LOVES

all that is
as it is

090809

EGGS-PONENTIAL

Eggs!
One. Three. Four.
Next time we look,
there may be more.

Sitting the nest
is setting the stage
for many too many
birds in the cage.

Eggs from birds!
Birds from eggs!
Way too many
birds and eggs!

090808

COMPOUND LESSON

We are here to learn.
We are here to love.
We are here to teach.

We are here to learn
to love to teach ...love.

090807

QUANDARY

Is intuition
the way to go?

My best guess
in this case—no.

090806

AN OLD STORY

Young and raw,
setting out, full of pride;
he was on his way
to somewhere.

Young and raw,
taken in, set aside;
she was on his way
to somewhere.

090805

IS IT SAFE YET?

each newborn life
(it well may be)
begins both innocent and free
and if no elder interferes
does not assume
our age-old fears

090804

SEA OF GREEN

You occupy my heart.
You occupy my mind.

Through you, Iran, I find:
all mankind is intertwined.

090803

LOVE NOTE

Love to all I used to fear,
till late.

Love to all I used to hate
(to hate to try to please).

Love to
friends-slash-enemies.

090802

THAT’S WHY

Why am I not sleeping?
It’s way past time for bed.
Because I’m tired…

of keeping thought-bits
in my head; that’s why I write
so late at night.

090801

VISITING HOURS

old lady daughter
old lady mother
recognizing
and not recognizing
each other

090731

RAIN!

mid-morning
mid-summer rain—

cool hand
soothing
fevered brow

090730

TANKA

daffodils this spring
bloomed as surprisingly as
surprise lilies now—
not in either neighbor’s’ yard,
but in the wasteland between

[ASIDE: Japanese form with 5-7-5-7-7 syllable count.]

090729

THE WORK (for Katie)

Think any thought
that bothers you:
chances are, it isn’t true.

090728

COCOON

each day's life
spins its own shroud,
readying for sleep

090727

ATTENTION!

To save a life
may require as little as this—
become conscious
that lives are in jeopardy.

090726

ARRIVAL

I know to expect it;
still, it gives me shivers—
how quickly,
how accurately
the universe delivers!

THE DAY'S EVENTS

Dead at road edges today,
more than twenty feet apart:
two moles and a brim.
No buzzards.
I fed the ducks.
Dogs followed me home.

090725

IT’S “WHOA-WHOA” TIME

In another part of the house,
he is talking to the cats—
admiring them, asking questions,
commenting on the day.

I can’t make out his words,
just the happy hum.

[ASIDE: Afternoon feeding time coincided,
when it was first established,
with the opening refrain of the TV Oprah show:
“WHOA-oh, WHOA-oh, OH-prah!” which evolved
into something shorter.]

090724

NWARSP (for Donnie)

The talk you gave was more than grand—
you helped us all to understand…

Company culture is a choice
twix one thing and another:
“One for all and all for one!”
or “Mash and crush and smother!”

True leaders let no chance slip past
to pay respect to crew and cast.

[ASIDE: This was a candygram accompanied by:
100 GRAND, TWIX, 3 MUSKETEERS,
CRUNCH bar, BUTTERFINGERS and PAYDAYS]

090723

THE FABLE OF LABELS

The fearful, the harmful,
the foreign, the unclean—
I’m learning by unlearning
what everything means.

090722

DREAMY

Bananas:
high-fiber, low-cal,
filling and creamy.

Fresh or frozen;
oh, so creamy!
What other food
is like that? Sweet!

090721

PARACHUTING OUT

Severance pay—
whether you want to go
or want to stay;
this is the way
to make severance
pay.

REFUGE

Take my money, take my home,
take sun, moon, sky, and birds;
I will bless you with a pome,
for I will still have words.

***

Free As Air

2009-07-21T09:21:00.000-07:00

***

090720

NAILS

My thumbs' and fingers'
are painted pink.
Those on my toes are rose.

090719

VISITATION (for Ado)

You lived and died so gracefully.
Please, be here now with me.
Every way you did and were—
I want to do and be.

090718

RESPITE

Life seems funny lately.
Everything brings a smile.
This won't last forever;
just for a blessed while.

090717

ASHES AND DUST

Away around the world somewhere
people like me are fighting—
for something that should be free as air;
for life to be a little more fair.
That’s why people are fighting.

090716

AMASSING HEALTH

“I’m hungry—
for food,” I used to say,
and far too often.

It’s a phrase I’ve learned
to soften—or redirect into
a weapon of mass destruction
that requires no stealth.
Now I say, “I’m hungry—
for health.”

090715

TWO TO ONE

Feathered and furred:
one, cat; one, bird.

For one brief moment,
neither one stirred.

090714

GATEKEEPER

Don't push yer luck,
growled my muse,
getting all irate.
Seven clues is enough fer youse—
don't hang around my gate
fer eight.

090713

SLEEP THERAPY

My dreams—the kind that come
when you lay your body down,
close your eyes, and nod off;
not the idealized, unrealized
versions of a proposed future—
are more compelling than my current life.

Today, I drowsed after lunch,
started to rouse near suppertime,
compared sleeping-dream to waking-dream,
nestled back into the covers,
and blissfully slipped away.
My mind recalls not a single detail,
but my body is grinning.

090712

WHO’S IN CHARGE, HERE?

God—let’s call you that—
when I look at the world, or it intrudes,
I can’t block out the unhappiness—
no; the agony.
And where does it come from?
From you! If not directly, effectively.

People clobber each other in your name—
your names, rather,
Your names are legion
and their clashes diabolical.

Are you aware? Do you care?
Regardless,
your reputation needs an overhaul.
Somebody’s doing a terrible job of P.R.!

090711

POME PALS

Potes! Who open minds
and hearts and throats,
I stuff my ballot box for you!
You have my votes!

ON CALL

Whenever writing lays its claim—
no matter how conveniently,
and whether early or late—
my response is always the same:
humbly, gladly, steadfastly,
I capitulate.

CONTRARY TO APPEARANCES

Reality is ecstasy,
as mystics comprehend.
There is no hell, they contend:
all is well all is well.

TAKING LIBERTY

Freedom’s highest glory
and freedom’s greatest shame,
paradoxically,
are one and the same—
freedom to take it for granted.

090710

TO SUCCEED, TAKE HEED:

Bills unpaid? Hair all mussed?
Cluttered desk? Cobwebs? Dust?
Here’s advice that you can trust.

“Do the things you ought to do!”
and you’ll neglect the things you must.

090709

INSISTENT

That cricket-chorus rhythm
rattles through my brain,
like railcars entrained,
settling in for the long haul.

Its cadence is a call:
Let me punch your ticket.
Let me punch your ticket.
Let me punch your ticket.

FADING AWAY

So amazingly designed
is this body going blind
and this ever-dimming mind.
When death comes, I won't care.
I won't even be aware.

FOXY MORON

My mind is mad,
but I don't mind.
I'm too lazy to go crazy.

090708

CAST OUT

Your Eden has ended.
You cannot pretend.

You know
where your meat comes from
and where your garbage goes.

You know.

You can only pretend
to pretend.

INEFFICIENCY BREAK (for Ginnie)

It’s nearing end of day,
and I haven’t earned my play.
Go ahead and call me crook;
I’m stealing time with a book.

LESSON: GROW!

Being phototropic,
plants send up their shoots.
Being geotropic,
they send down their roots.

When oppositely attracted,
don't become retracted,
settling for an either-or.

Like the plants,
choose more-and-more.

090707

PROFUSION OF CONFUSION

Religions explain
inscrutable things like war.

No wonder they are
equally bizarre.

CARD FOR VICKI

For your birthday, happily,
I send you pearl and ivory
(these rose bouquets and filigree).
Also, words of poetry
and boundless love to you from me.

090706

WORLD.WIRED.WEB

Such a day, such a day—
all the world’s atrocities
shared at vast velocities!
Healing, too, twitters through;
no more than a touch away.

***

Happy and Free

2009-07-05T13:22:00.000-07:00

***

090705

JUST CAN’T REFRAIN

Why can’t I?

Let me tell you why—
I just can’t get a break.

- Can’t spot a fake.
- Can’t stay awake.
- Can’t keep a friend.
- Can’t underspend.
- Can’t hold on tight.
- Can’t win a fight.

I just can’t do things right.

UNCOMPLICATED (for Abraham)

If you’re happy,
you’re enlightened:
stay that way.

SELF-HELP

I hurt.
I lack.
I disapprove.
I fear.

Phooey!
Change focus.
Be happy.
Accept no substitutes.

FREE, FLOATING

The more my health
and wealth are gone,
the less I base
my happiness on.

RAINY DAY SPENDINGS

I love paid vacations—
feeling wild and free—
even this vacation,
being paid by me.

ARRIVAL

Am I happy?
Yes, oh yes!
That is my
complete success.

090704

FAITHFUL AND PROUD

I pledge allegiance to my Muse—
my trusted higher power
who is the flag that I salute
and, of whatever state I’m in,
motto, song, and flower.

FIREWORKS

Freedom unearned
can be celebrated
but not enjoyed.

POLITICAL DIVIDE

“Don’t try to help!
Nothing will help that you can do.”

“Forgive me then;
for being proud of you.”

WE, THE PEOPLE

How can we be “enemy”?
We seek each other’s liberty!

090703

UNDER HEAVEN

Down and out?
Feeling pain?

Life brings loss, but with it, gain:
sacred blessings that sustain
like winter sun and summer rain.

BEAT NIX

Rhymes, rhymes, rhymes.
Oh so loved—
in other tymes!

090702

LAUNCH OF “LIFT-OFF”

We and the cats
have gone into
conniption fits.

Finches are tiny;
imagine their eggs!
Our hatchling utterly
begs description—
pink grape;
eensie stubs
for wings and legs.

WHERE’S MY VOTE?

If I were Iranian,
I wonder what I’d do?
Perhaps I’d meekly raise my voice—
and be deprived of further choice.

090701

HEART-MATES (for Marilyn)

Tomorrow I will see my friend.
Then we’ll separate again.

Apart, then together;
together, then apart:
the push and pull of friendship,
like blood, flows through the heart.

CAREFUL!

Don’t put too much on your plate—
things are about to escalate!

***

Lunacy and Grace

2009-04-26T18:04:00.000-07:00

***

090415

L’ESSENTIEL EST INVISIBLE

Today, when speaking to my friends,
I closed my eyes ...until the end.
I opened them with such a start!
I'd been speaking from the heart.

090414

MAYOR AND GUEST (for Bob)

When the conference was done
I savored most in memory
the human kindness of the one
who smiled and held my chair for me.

090413

SOUND OF GRACE (for David)

No wayfaring stranger—
nor poor in any way—am I.

Once lost, now found,
I revel in the rich embrace
of precious and amazing grace—

How sweet the sound!

***

[BIRTHDAY CARD]

Birthdays have their time
and place—

There’s no doubting
that one bit.

Some of them
deserve embrace.

Some of them
are full of…

[inside]

…grace.

090412

SPRING FLING

Welcome to your party?
Thanks,
it’s been a while
since I dressed up fancy;
since I wore a smile.

090411

CORRESPONDENCE

Year after year,
I wrote to the air.

Dreaming like bear,
I lay in my lair—
when I peeked out,
it gave me a scare.

Out in the daylight,
out in the glare—
if I go out,
how will I fare?

But kinship is there!
For that, I will dare.

090410

POMES 5¢ (forDusty)

Before you decide
to peddle a book,
go stand on some
street corner awhile
selling apples.

BUNNY HOPPEN (for Michelle)

When there’s somethin’ to be done—
Leapin’ in!

Springin’ into action.
Jumpin’ in to help. Creatin’ satisfaction.
Spreadin’ round some mirth.

What is all that Hoppenworth?
Almost anything on earth!

090409

STRAW VOTE

Old haybales are arguing
heatedly,
in the otherwise empty
summer pasture,
for and against the proposition
that the absence of livestock
is permanent.

090408

LEARNING GRATITUDE

What I had is now supplanted.
What I had, I took for granted.

Night sits heavy on my chest.
Morning comes, but brings no rest.
All it takes to be so tense
is something to compare against.

What I have will be supplanted.
Nothing will I take for granted.

090407

EMMA’S EYES

Emma’s eyes
are clouding—
each day; less clear,
less bright.

(Near death,
when just a kitten,
Emma lost her sight.)

Now she “sees”
in other ways
as her eyes grow white.

Emmas’ eyes:
they help me see
all that is—as right.

SELF-DECEIVED (for Pam)

Said the writer:

Poetry
I do not do—
I can’t say “boo!”
to a haiku.

090406

WHO WANTS TO KNOW

What this means
I’ll come to see,
or not:
that’s the deal.

I may not be immortal.
I may not even be real.

But, scanning through the
portal of my memory
brings a certain certainty:
I have always felt like “me.”

090405

TEA PARTY

Life is cup and saucer.
Happiness is tea.

Please,
won't you come soon?
Share a cup with me.

090404 (for Gary)

GOOD NIGHT,
JUNG LOVERS,
WHEREVER
YOU ARE

I wish we may,
I wish we might
dream dream dream
good dreams tonight.

YOU BET YOUR LIFE

Life is abundant.
There is plenty for all.
Life is simple and fun.
Don’t worry. Be happy.
Follow your bliss.

How is a person supposed to
deal with ideas like these?

To test them, you would first
have to adopt faith in them,
and then
continually reinterpret their basic terms:
abundant, simple, bliss, life.

That would take lifelong commitment.
Is it worth the gamble?

???????????????????????????????

Epilogue: The first version of this poem
was lost to a computer crash. Dang-
dang-dang, I said, (or something like that)
as just-written words evaporated and
likely repair bills loomed.
As usual, life was offering me an opportunity
to answer affirmatively: Do you really
want to live in the way you propose?

090403

USE YOUR “INSIDE VOICE” (for Sandy)

A-gor-a-phobia.
It’s some fancy therapy-name
that makes it sound like you’re afraid
of being a bull-fighter.

Well, my bull is my brain, I guess.
But I’m learning to matador it.
Hey, I can even teach you a few things.

Last week, I had a major triumph.
You should have seen my doctor’s face
when I told her.

“I went outside on my own,” I said,
and not just to come here.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“Ha! Yes I did. Went outside to a party.
A cocktail party!”

She was speechless.
I don’t think she believed me.
So I let her know that I have
therapy ways of my own.

“It was so easy, once I
paid attention to my Inside Voice.
It told me to go out my door
and just watch my feet move.
A while later,
it said to follow some other feet
that were going inside a building.
I came to a room where everybody
was making a lot of noise.
That scared me—a lot—
being in the middle of everything.
But I found a chair, and the voice said, sit down.
Then it said,
turn yourself into a tunafish sandwich.
It was great: nobody even noticed me.”

Doc was impressed—
said she’d never heard of
Tuna Stealth before.

090402

SINCE YOU ASKED

The reason I’m home so early
from the “read-around” is this:
they told me they’re a “writers” group
and they don’t want poetry anymore.

Wait! Sorry! Wrong!
April Fool’s was yesterday.
(But, it’s nice to see you so riled.)

090401

SPRING SPREE

Lunacy rules—
it’s April, fools!

***

Taking a Dip

2007-07-26T20:05:00.000-07:00

Something took me down these last two weeks, which means I let it.

Basically, it was people-stuff; pitiful and passionate as grade-school playground days. There was a patch-up, but no true make-up, because the stresses that catlyzed all the negativity are still ongoing.

I drag through the days, then drag home at night. Today, finally, I decided on recuperation. I can't undo all that I was caught up in, or, probably, defend without attacking. In fact, some of my earlier defenses may play out as perceived attacks. They were never meant to be. They were honest, innocent best-choices that time has tangled and mangled.

The good side of all this? I understand in my gut why people fight. I have sympathy for people under attack and even for attackers, and I see why efforts of peacemakers are often futile or even provocative. I feel my human limitations and I don't like them; I feel sad.

I maintained my pome-a-day ratio by exploring all this as word-therapy.

I also nourished other friendships; this helps nourish good intentions, goodwill, and expectations of better times later.

The Things You Want to Do

2007-07-15T06:55:00.000-07:00

The theme of the last two months has to be Jim Croce's comment, "...there never seems to be enough time/to do the things you want to do/once you find them."

I want to get my book to press. I want to give it its best chance. That means a lot of research and slow steps. For the "query letter" stage, I wrote and mailed out the letters, but not too many and without positive response. There are a lot of reasons that makes sense; first-time author, no ready-made "platform" through speaking, high percentage of poetry as content, etc. Once I got to the current "literary review" stage, the same hurdles apply. Not to mention that we are straddling states with residency and work. Do I set up a business here in Texas with checking account, mailing address, etc? Do I close down the one in Arkansas? In fact, hoping to resume living in Arkansas fulltime in a couple of years, do I try to develop a writing/publishing network there?

Anyway, for the last month, I feel like I'm trying to run through mud, slowing down with every step.

Besides the book, I am keeping up with daily poems and contending with techwriting at my regular job. Pressures there (on the whole curriculum team) to work more quickly and incorporate more special projects are making the work more difficult. For one thing, I have to wait till other people complete their portions before I can do my part. Sometimes, because they take longer, the more complicated texts come to me the latest, which can also mean I have the least time to proofread and fact-check them.

Lately, I've seen that fact-checking and editing content can be irritating to the instructional designers. Everyone has their own pet ways of writing, designing, and organizing. To try to harmonize all these varieties of things and end up with a text that is correct, understandable, and aesthetic is quite a challenge. The quality of the work, in my opinion, is declining, and for reasons beyond what I've just described. I put most of it down to bureaucracy.

What it all means is that I need to think through what my role is and/or should be. I also need to look to the needs of my soul and make sure it is nutured. There have been too many episodes of lost-sleep nights, knotted stomach and clenched hands, weepiness and frustration. And what for? Answer: to learn not to be that way!

Life Apprentice Companion Blog

2007-06-18T20:29:00.000-07:00

Instead of researching publishing tonight, I wrote a daily poem, then posted several months worth of poems to my LifeApprentice blog. At that point, I decided to investigate who else was writing or posting anything about a poem a day.

Doing that, I learned that the Everyday-Poet blogsite was not being used and decided to take it. That way, I will have a place to write about daily events and about the proscess of writing, editing, publishing, and promoting poems without cluttering my other website.

However, it would make more sense to put the poems on Everyday-Poet and the peripheral things on LifeApprentice. Hmm.

I have this image of people all over the world click-clicking at their keyboards, sending messages out. Does anybody read them? Does anybody take them IN?