Moonshine

* * *


110325

THIS I KNOW FOR SURE (for Oprah)

A day without poetry
is like a night without moonshine.

[ASIDE: O Magazine seeks short poems on Twitter.]


110324

IT’S ALL IN THE
EXECUTION

Bad poem.
Bad, bad poem.
Take it out
and shoot it.

String it up
and shoot it down;
the only way
to mute it.


110323

IMAGINE (for Cat)

Imagine all problems
as subject to mind—
imagine imagination
making humankind kind.

[ASIDE: I'd say, for John Lennon too.]


110322

TROUBLESOME TRENDS

Neighbor pups encroach our cats.
That isn’t all that’s rough—
my to-do’s outswamp my done’s;
I can’t bail fast enough.


110321

THIS SCEPTERED WHILE

Winter’s dead.
Long live the king.

Spring! Spring!
Spring! Spring!

(Please excuse;
I must enthuse.)


110320

THE PAUSE THAT REFRESHES

Weekends! Weekends!
Time for fun and friends.

At end of week
when we’re weak from work,
they’re when that work-weak ends.


110319

MUTUAL
MIS-JUDGMENT

All that fighting
and hurt feelings—
what was that about?

No, don’t remind me—
this is truth and peace;
that was doubt.


110318

ANATOMY ANOMALY

What a piece of work is man,
whose body is an art.

Today I thanked my precious hands;
“Darlin’s, —bless your heart.”


110317

THE JIG IS UP

For Paddy’s day, I’d do a jig,
but don’t know how to jig-gle;
in fact, I cannot even do
a decent sort of wiggle.

On dancing lessons, I missed out.
At the tango, I’m not hot.
I never, ever twist and shout.
Fan-dance? Please!
And can-can, I cannot.


110316

REVISION

watercolor lessons
give me
watercolor eyes

now I see
watercolor flowers
watercolor skies


110315

MODERN TURMOIL

The Ides of March—irrelevant?
They scarcely drew a mention.
Japan and the Middle East
commanded our attention.


110314

PI DAY TRIBUTE (for Diane)

While you and I stand idly by
without a clue and wonder why,
she bakes circles around us—
she knows her way around a pie.

[ASIDE: She's a numbers person; the kind who likes
bookkeeping and tax preparations.]


110313

RECOUPERATION

wedding ring
car keys
other things like these

feared lost
assumed lost
find their way to me


110312

THERE’S ALWAYS A CATCH

A paradox—or plot, or ruse!

Freedom seekers, you’re forced to choose
among more expressions than you can use—
at least at once.

You win; you lose.


110311

LIONS’ CARD IDEA

Some birthdays are already done.
We hope today’s your greatest one…
and that the best are still to come.


110310

ANOTHER FINE MESS

“Oh, no—not again!
How many times have I asked you
not to do this—and you went ahead
and did it again. I am so frustrated,
I just can’t to talk to you right now.
No, I can't say another word!
Hey, are you listening to me?”


110309

LENTEN OBSERVANCE (for Joyce)

The "worker" that we trusted
has been oh-so-busted!
This photo makes it evident
how her life and Lent are spent.

[ASIDE: Coworkers shot evidence of her sleeping at her desk.]


110308

LOVE, LOVE ME, DO

If not top-of-mind,
it’s surely bottom-line
to all our prayers—
someone who cares.


110307

UNTITLED

All worlds
for me
will end
with me.


110306

HER HIGHNESS

In royal air and regal pose,
her rarified lineage shows—
and she, through its expression
makes quite a grand empression.


* * *

The Usual Gamut

* * *

110121

DIABETES AND YOU (for Jaime)

Diabetes comes from DNA
and from the way you work and play.
Diabetes comes from what you eat,
especially food too fat or sweet.

Diabetes makes you drink and pee,
plus, it affects how well you see.
It makes you tired, it numbs your feet.
Let's make this sickness obsolete.

Do not be a diabete!

[ASIDE: Jaime made a presentation on diabetes
and footcare to our Lions Club.]


110120

COFFEE PRE-JUNKIE (for Lizzie)

Medicate your head?
Why do what you will rue
and later struggle to undo?
Meditate instead.


110119

PLEASE EXPLAIN

Who is this person who,
in photos and in mirrors,
looks pillowy, marshmallowy,
and billowy, but who,
inside, feels willowy?


110118

THE EVERYDAY VARIETY

For better or for worse,
I make and fill my own thirst;
when I want a poem, I write a verse,
and—best of all—get to read it first!


DEMISE SURPRISE (for Sargent)

Someone just died
at age ninety-five.
People keep dying
not known still alive.


110117

WINTER WAKING

Winter-haze tonal grays
can make moon-sky
bright as noon-sky
and early wakers wonder
whether morning
is coming or glowing.


110116

DRAFT HORSE

I’m workin’ on
a long, long pome;
plowin’ long and steady.

It’s gonna be
a hard, hard pome;
I’m tired of it already.


A BOUT

Clouds out-crowd.
Clouds attack.

Sun’s uncowed by bully clouds—
through a crack, it slips back.
Then it puts those clouds to rout.

Sun is back.
Sun is out.

How does this come about?
Sun, no doubt, has more clout.


110115

EMBRACING THE SHADOW

[ASIDE: Under construction. This long poem
will take a while to complete and edit.]


110114

PROGRESSION

Winter is kind,
and ever more bright;
as she suspends heat,
she extends light.


OFFSPRING

You greased it, eased it,
cursed, birthed, and nursed it.

You raised it, praised it,
groomed it, pruned it.

You composed, concocted,
and spun it;
and it looks so easy
once you've done it.


110113

WHEN?

Bundled up
one way or another
season after season
people are waiting
people are holding in;
bundled up
one way or another
season after season
bundled up as babies
people are holding on
looking to each other
each waiting for the other
waiting for release
bundled up and waiting
waiting for a reason
or just for an excuse.


110112

WINTER BLISS (for Connie)

Perfectly
simple serenity:
me on bed
in sunlight spotlight;
cat on me.


110111

BLIND REFLECTIONS

Emma dear, Emma wise—
what’s inside those Emma eyes?
I see, in them, myself reflected
but mine are not, to you, a mirror.

I see in yours myself reflecting
why mine are not, for you, a mirror.
Emma dear, Emma wise—
what’s inside your Emma eyes?


110110

POETRY

Not the words but the way;
no specific thing you say.
It’s the truth told by the lie,
the do not know that answers why.


110109

BEAUTY MARKS

A few of the nuns
(let's not say which ones)
had—let us say—
facial blemishes
which, in any case,
they bore with good grace,
helping us know
what God cherishes.


MOMENTOUS

In this now,
my struggle’s
through.

World, …I am
at peace with you.


OBIT

Poet:
probed deeply,
wrote long,
reportedly died of
stub wounds.


WEB OF DECEIT

E-linked, business-network friends
keep recommending further friends,
but to claim these, one must state
form of relationship to date.
For the terms sites recommend
(classmate/colleague/client/friend),
how to answer is hard to guess—
there’s no sort of, just no or yes—
and these implied acquaintanceships
foster false pre-lationships.


110108

SLEEP-IN

I wake today
when the birds untree
and rise to flock.

I wake to the sun
and not to the clock.


BRIEF SANCTUARY

They’re our cats
but we root for the mice,
one of which
was discovered today
dried and flattened
under an out-of-the-way rug.
Poor baby is now a mummy.


110107

ISP’S

Once the computer
was an extension of us;
now that’s vice versa…
and it keeps getting
wersa and wersa.


110106

GOOD DAY

Up, groom, eat,
then out the door.

Drive, arrive, work, drive,
and eat some more.

Catch the mail.
Write a pome.

Good day:
good away, good at home.


110105

FLURRY OF HURRY

Flit-flit-flit;
I’m in a tizzy—
not a state of zen!

But it’s nice
to be so busy—
every now and then!


110104

COOL CATS

Winter cold gives no pause
when outdoor freedom beats cold paws;
“Let us out!” our cats insist.

Icy blasts don’t deter
those brisk excursions they prefer
(and, in truth, cannot resist).


110103

HOW I SEES IT

Once agin, I awake
to butt of cat in my face.

Cat don’t mean to offend.
Naw, an' mine's the “livin’ end!”


110102

APPLICANT (for Hermann)

With a wink,
I will state
if I’m asked:

I can think,
I can wait,
I can fast.

[ASIDE: Siddhartha's résumé.]


* * *

Rough Seas

* * *


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

* * *


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

* * *

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.


* * *

Stress, Distress, De-stress

* * *

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

* * *

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.


* * *

Confetti

* * *


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?


* * *

Thanksgiving and Other Times

* * *

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.]

* * *