Saturday, August 30, 2008

wooden ship sailors

wooden ship sailors
worked with creak and mast
on yawning, stretching hulls
amid thump and mallets

if only these men could spend
but a brief anachronistic moment
with today’s steel fleet
in dry dock

the sanding, poundings
would be cutting agony
leaving men begging to tend
the quiet luff of any canvas

spider

oh my god
i heard her cry
what is it, call i
coming to the screen door

do you want to see
the biggest spider in the world?
i said yes dubiously
and cautiously went near

i looked and nodded it was true
yes, I saw it, large, fat and ugly,
as she used her shoe
to smear it to smithereens

believe me, you didn’t
want to be there,
this poem, like the spider
has a smashing ending

Friday, August 29, 2008

Master Waterer

i swear
i shall
uncoil the hose
the extreme length
tote it to place

for when the dainty little misses is away
it is I the Master in charge
splashing, near drowning
the greenery at large

no lollygagging laggers or blithering blunders
are tolerated when Master Waterer
has absolute command
all hands keep clear, stand aside
out of the way or the outrage you’ll dread

my charge is this garden
now water on full, full i tell you
on that i insist,
do as i say

i guess that means me
for i am the crew,
clearing my head
coming out of the mist,
whew

i’ll just do as she said
so she doesn’t get pissed

Thursday, August 28, 2008

a lengthy swift sloop

a lengthy swift sloop at sail at sea
with half a breeze and half a sun as you man her
nowhere to go and no call to go
just time to set far back
look up to the tall sturdy mast
as nylon sails snap
to the occasional wind’s lick

the ocean spits bits of water
back and forth over the bow
with a gentle lift the shore is visible
then a recline and the shore is gone
another lift and the long, low line of land is there again

no need for a shirt with warm air rushing over you
and your hair twisted and thrown and dampened by spray
a red neck feels good and a tan face
makes it better to have lived this way

strong hands hold the ship to a meandering course
from nowhere
in particular
and back again

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

i have no need to worry

I have no need to worry
my fortunes all behind me
this is what I have
and I’m sharing it with you

I wrote the Magna Carta
the sky I painted blue
you’ll always be another,
god sleeps at night with you

steel hauled on rail
sent from man to man
the California grey on sail
to southern waters under sun

water cycles from air to sea through me
one night I made it rain
you are written in nature’s melodies,
do you know that you remind me?

I hear the distant running dogs bark
and choose not to run again,
by this means I remain this person
and you are able to run the way you do

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

the sun is running

after full summer running high
the ecliptic meridian of the sun winds lower
you can see by lengthening shadows
nature knows the hour

fewer kids are heard calling
on bikes to the beach at break neck speed
school is upon ‘em, they won't get away,
they're not fast enough, to outrun the calendar

now animals are changing habits
they know the change of seasons
though many young have never experienced
what’s bred in them

when beyond the summer arch
the sun creeps on toward fall
even we take notice
cause it’s all familiar

and with luck we’ll see more
just keep riding the big blue sphere,
do note how quickly summer flashes, dances,
running, passing with another year

Monday, August 25, 2008

Flooded In India

one million people
to get their feet out of water,
families, women and children
need clean water to drink
eat some food
have dry clothes

this morning i got up early
and after a swim
went out for breakfast
had pancakes, eggs and coffee
my friend drove
we talked of the Olympics
our pals and old times
he spoke of fall football
how well his favorite team would do
then home on the Internet
i cracked into the news and the mail
weather is pleasant, the august sun
falls kindly on me
while deep i felt again
pangs of the world
and paused in thought

6.7 billion people
the Internet linking us
what can we do?
stay on high ground
hope for the best
be kind to others
we’re in for the test
survival of our ways
isn’t easy
it's all of us,
in this
sea of troubles

one million people
flooded in India
more than a headline

village

having moved away, I’m now back
in the town pokey to change,
when a guy i grew up with
i meet up with again just today

we were kids together,
never ran in the same crowd,
he’s two years older,
but, of course, knew each other

he volunteered to catch a troublesome groundhog
came over immediately,
wouldn’t take money for the job well done,
there were smiles and a handshake

not a lot of words, not a lot of questions,
nothing to prove, no points to be made,
we get along just fine,
i know him, he knows me, always have

sure time has passed,
we've lived our years apart,
but life, you see, just goes like that,
in this pokey little village where we got our start

Sunday, August 24, 2008

listening to the plant roar

listening to the plant roar
not a green one with flowers
this giant grinds limestone
everyday, twenty-four hours

and a lady wrote to the newspaper
how she enjoys the smoke beacon
to guide her way home
what’s she been drinking?

she must live upwind and far,
doesn’t sleep with windows open
or care about white dust on her car
that’s how she’s copin’

so i learn she’s the PR person
paid to do the speaking,
grease for the opinion wheels
quells common sense squeaking