early october

early October
Friday evening comfortable
i slip out to the back porch
sit on the old white wicker settee

drifts of light air on prevailing winds
bring the urgent tap, tap tap of snare drums
fractured crowd noise barely audible
dribble in with fragments of the field announcer
at the high school football game a mile away

in mostly quiet i see the trees, white houses,
all the way down a block to the church steeple
the pond falls ripples near me in the backyard
swirling clouds above
block out the moon and the stars

i think of Rome and California
places in between
once or twice,
faces from the years
parade by unseen
as memories not precise
and i remember you

over my shoulder

of course i recognize my inspiration
when i see it reflected back
no surprise, i put it out
to be enjoyed and used

as when releasing butterflies
expect them to flutter and breed
while always a few you'll find
dead on the sidewalk

safe keeping

three cop cars and a canine unit
popped fast in front of our house
suddenly neighbors were about
to wonder, confer and yap things out

seems a next door neighbor lady
hopped the fence slick as a goose
has a gun, is suicidal,
now she’s out there on the loose

an acquaintance drove by our group of talkers
reported, one street over
by the river, cops did the dance
and put the lady in an ambulance

one cop car in front of my house
was left keys, motor running
I thought to get in, can you believe it?
drive it around the block, and leave it

there was more than one witness
thank god I’m not witless
no one ever thought enough
to pay me to think, ‘cept funny stuff

blue jays

blue jays like peanuts
in the shell
but we crack them
to makes it easier for them

they take one away
up in a tree
hold it down with a foot
and crack it with their beak

here’s the system
he squawks when he’s around
we squawk back and
we come out with peanuts

throw two peanuts
the bird will fly down
picks up each, one at a time
and always leave with the largest

chill gusty wind

done’s summer calm
balmy nights gone
October wind crackles
closed up, heater’s on

branches in motion
snap sticks cascade
blue jay flew in
for a peanut i threw

fierce out there
no easy street
they goin’a make do
bird’s gotta eat

each night

Chicago radio news
some early morning
a quarter hour recap of
weather, traffic and murders

woman caught a stray bullet in the neck
two cousins 17 and 19 both in college
no known reason why it should happen
fifteen youths killed a fine student

and on, and on, dog’s blood
so sorry, brutal cruel, shame
as it goes on, many weep
a nation turns it’s head to sleep

robins return

from an earlier account i see
the final day of august they left
all together now they’re back
bluejays, cardinals winter stay

alert robins all, use the same calendar
returned this final September weekend
to eat, grow strong, then fly south
when it’s red, while leaves fall

love test - completely accurate short version

question one
has he ever told you
that he’s finished watching
either live or televised sports
and would rather be
shoe shopping at the mall
with you?

question two
if the answer to question one is yes -
did you know he was lying?

question three
what’s for dinner?

rock o' my soul

on the piano did a vamp
thought of old tunes
school choir did one
rock my soul, oh rock o’ my

clap your hands, let the thing go on
so wide you can’t it around it
after a while the pulse lifts you,
over an over, hypnotic

picks you up, take you down the street
remembered a long ago city kid
mister, i know where you got ya shoes -
you got ‘cha shoes on you feet


repeat the last line until
you're blue in the face

i am Wicks, i'll be your server tonight

well, Wicks, hi, i’d shake hands but
obviously, you’re moving too fast
i’m jack, but i’d prefer you call me grandpa
no one else does

well they do once in a while
but they live a half a planet away
grandpa jack is what they say, but
plain grandpa is more enduring don’t you think

my grandparents lived thirty minutes away
but people didn’t drive as much back then
a half century ago, one i’d see one once a year
the other i’d see Christmas and Easter

anyway, doesn’t matter to anyone now does it.
say, my sister Nita taught me to drive
when i was eleven in her old Oldsmobile on Rye Beach Road
i’ll have to ask her if she was married then

parts of the story are unraveling
and half the cast have gone away
i’ll look into that, gone away stuff,
someday, won’t we all

listen, Wax, you don’t mind if
i keep talking to you, do you?
not out loud, in my head, think talk like
blink if you can hear me

key variations

musical keys themselves sound differently
this is something i learned
from my excellent classically trained teacher
who studied with a student of Franz Liszt

d was strong, military marches or something
i don’t remember any more,
except to say keys
have different affects and uses

i Googled and found emotions relating to keys
this age has lost sense of the variations of the keys,
volume and electronic reproduction
has diminished that nuance in their shadow

beyond poetry

or maybe this is real poetry.
This is a thirteen year old
who has blogged for two years
and has four million followers.

At the rate I'm going
I could easily have four million followers . . .
in less then two million years. Wait - let me work on that math and get back to you.

(on the link: I love the photo of the designer and the blogger.)

cold blooded

she was looking for them in the pond
on an early fall crisp morning
thought they’d be in the water where it’s warmer
hey, she wants everyone cozy

they've come home for the winter
there could be more shuffling
now we’ve two large black bull frogs, two tiny small
and two medium leopard type frogs

it’s cool this mornng, but wait
until winter when the pond is frozen
the frogs’ll be on the bottom
sleeping in the mud, nighty-night

to the heights

to the Heights, a country small town
nearby, yet aloof from modern ways
where farmers and country survive
and some of their kids go away to school in the cities
take jobs, live afar and return now and then
for holidays, alternate years

their folks stay on
in touch with the soil
clean, neat and country casual for a Sunday
standing tall as they can
walking leaning, a bit slower

these remaining have been small town friendly for years
know the families, names from long ago
and can recall some of the faces
now under the headstones
on the treed lofty knoll

there is a chicken barbeque today
at this conservation club
no telling what they are conserving
kindness and good will for sure

the building is set back on a large area in an otherwise field
the road in waggers as if the guys who dragged it out
changed their minds two or three times before
they settled on how to get from here to there

and the twenty or thirty cars already there
were parked in the field over a few acres
like dominoes thrown out of a box
and where they landed is where they sat
independent parkers they are

this yearly event we’ve been waiting for
three hundred tickets were sold they say
the money raised will keep the group going
about thirty folks there at the start when we were
maybe fifty
half again that number just neighborly helping out
i didn't try to count, they were spread out nicely

rear double doors were open to the beginning
of the green and rust colored stick crackling woods
in mild temperatures and near idle breeze
on the cusp of another change
summer to fall

had covered long tables, sturdy folding chairs
set with plenty space between to walk
and clean silverware, no plastic for
these folk of dirt, cast iron, seed and steel

the building’s maintained in good repair
someday they’ll pave straighten that winding road in
or sell the whole damn chuck to a developer, if and when

barbequed chicken was the draw today
and these hens were as large as small dogs
and twicet as tasty as you could ever imagine

spoke with old Reece, one of the volunteers
heard he deeded his downtown brick building
the decorative grey century one on Main
resplendent with curiosities and used books
to the local historical society

our common friend dick, who visited us in Rome
will be coming soon, here’s where he was raised
with a smile on his face and mud in his toes

today's group was quiet well mannered
stayed on the business of eating
and getting to the desert table
in no rush orderly fashion

i had a slice of crispy near warm apple pie
made from experience by Aldean
as she stood alone by her kitchen window
taking care and good intentions
thinking of her family while using well hewn skill
that would’a made her mother proud

after we did the deed on the chicken
during which time we made new acquaintances
and refreshed old ones
we waved goodbyes and moved on
out the door and beyond
into our own tomorrow

free time

why knock yourself out on the internet
connecting with the world
when half the folks are not bright, half
scratch those – i’ll make this easy for you

that leaves three billion people
so you want them over for lunch or what?
make everybody a sandwich and what you spend
on mustard alone would run Norway for twenty-five years

keep it simple, you’ve heard that, right?
how about a few, maybe three or four friends
either that’ll be enough for you, or
you need to reevaluate your free time

mirror

In Anatolia, around the land that is now Turkey
mirrors of polished obsidian were used 8,000 years ago.

catches the eye
flashes the light
better than a still pond
you can touch it

pick one up
carry it around
hold one up to look where you’ve been
hold it down to see the sky

put your face in one
it won’t talk back
won’t make a sound
what is left appears on the right

repeats colors
specularly reflective
practical magic
safe to do at home

weather whether

tv weather
showing maps and arrows
in red and blue is weather
you can see

radio weather
talks how it goes
though for tomorrow i doubt whether
anyone knows

i'm not afaid

i’m not afraid
to go outside the box
though rather get paid*
an cure chicken pox

filling our time now
an eye to the weather
i mean, holy cow,
we’re sticking together

i’ll rub your back
you sip my cheap wine
give me your heartache
and i’ll show you mine

the world is our sea
i am your oyster
they get us surrounded
white flags we’ll hoister

we drifts and we hops
as poets we'll cruise
dance till we drops
or the ship’s out of booze

*laid, strayed, made, spaid,weighed, swayed

for every minute you're talking
someone gives up 60 seconds
of peace and quiet

every year that passes

as i ladle up a smoking silvery spoon of time, though I don’t write or call
every year that duck squeak slip passes greased
finds me wonder why, and how you’re doing
in the golden yellow white days of summer, and another adobe fall

there is will be a small flower
something wild half hidden amid somewhere green
anywhere, i find one, anywhere at all, in between
no matter, it changes how I’m feeling that hour

taking up a petal, one will do
in vibrant color, texture, pattern, scent, then recall i will
from afar, time spent, and power from soft warm eyes
i think of you


every year that passes

as i ladle up a smoking silvery
spoon of time
though I don’t write or call
every year that duck squeak slip passes

finds me wonder
why, and how you’re doing
in blistering golden yellow white summer
leaning to another adobe fall

there is will be a small flower
something, wild half hidden
amid somewhere sometime green
anywhere i find one, anywhere at all,

in between, no matter
it changes
how I’m feeling
that hour

taking up a petal,
one will do
vibrant in color, texture,
pattern, scent

then recall i will, from afar,
time spent, and power
from soft warm eyes
i think of you

when old clothes were new

archeologists say
first clothes were made
seventy thousand years ago
more or less

before that? you tell me
what’d the cave man wear
sticks and clam shells?
maybe dinosaur skins

now in a cave in the Republic of Georgia
archaeologists have found colored fibers
that indicate the cave that may have been a factory
engaged in producing colorful textiles

found were strings and ropes
dyed fabric yellow, gray and turquoise
and one in pink, twisted together
carbon dated to thirty-four thousand years ago

scientists, not prone to speculation,
estimate that even then the fashion styles
changed every six months
and runway models were skinny



Scientists credited with the above discovery are
Ofer Bar Yosef, George Grant MacCurdy
and Janet G. B. MacCurdy of Prehistoric Archaeology
in the Faculty of Arts and Sciences at Harvard University
Bar Yosef and colleagues have been working in this cave since 1996.

writing

Digging into my archive, to save you the trouble, I brought this out from February 2008.

writing’s a bit
like digging a pit
you have to know
how deep to go

what to do
when that work is through?
You cover that lover
and start on another

curtis mayfield

around somewhere, maybe in a box
i have his business card
should be framed like a trophy now
here' the story

saw him perform
in those early times, 1963
when i was young and had the stuff
to get backstage, no problem

i was writing, wanted to see
if he would do a tune or two of mine
he was very friendly, kind
but wrote all his own

rolled em out, played em on
it’s all right, people get ready,
anyway, it was nice talking with Curtis
i really liked his style

animals revisited

the house of the rising sun was sung
by Appalachian artists Clarence "Tom" Ashley
and Gwen Foster in 1933
Tom learned it from his grandfather

Alan Lomax recorded his granddaughter singing it in ‘37
Roy Acuff in ’38, Woody Guthrie in ‘41
Led Belly in ‘48,
‘61 Bob Dylan did it

and according to punk archeology
in the British invasion of 64 the animals did it
many others have since recorded it
many other artists

2009 the dentist’s office
heard it on the radio, and kid next to me says
wow. the animals, oh, yeah!
animals lead singer Eric Burton 68 years old

lets dig up Mozart, blow some air in him
and see if he can open for the animals
just keep pumping air until
we get a beat out of him

i can turn it on

a low level technician i am, i know
rank me where I ought to be
somewhere low
because a lot really blows way by me
dust puffs on light wind to vapor

it’s the way I see it
what I expect
don’t you feel it?
examining from the back porch
under moving tree shadow and moon light

watching lightning bugs while
making thoughts, stringing them together
that could be necessary, stringing
to adjust things not quite right in my reasoning
we’ll see, I’m not sure, no regret

nine eleven answers

some day
historians
will follow
the money

bloodlines

fractional Cherokee blood coursing
she stood the ladder
painting on high
four and a half feet
beyond fear

off to the side with pride in my eye
envious of her heritage advantage
i watched from my perspective
as a humble full blood
Kielbasa

not the hanging judge

the frog tunes stopped
got real quiet hereabouts
don’t want to rush
to irrational judgment

but it looks like Herb stayed
and the nervous girlfriend
the one with the big eyes
might have split in the cover of darkness

this morning Herb is there
sitting on the same bar stool lily pad
like someone told him to freeze
he didn’t move a muscle (can't say hair,doesn’t have any)

we’ll move slow around, easy like
take our time, not make a sound
and count ‘em up later
to see who’s still in pond town

a frogs worth

summer now gone
September cool arrived
a few days of rain brought
warm damp last night

opened the window
imagined heard familiar
this morning M. saw him
called me to the pond

yes, after a summer scamper
to spend time with the girls
fall season approaches
(Errrb) Herb‘s home again



An hour later we see there are two large frogs in the pond. Maybe Herb brought his girlfriend with him.

days are like eggs

days are like eggs
some sunny side up
they’re hard, or scrambled
and, thank god,
always a few go
over easy

nature

of fish, birds, squirrels and frogs
there’s all kinds, good and bad,
each exhibiting different personalities
with examples for each
i told my brother what i had observed

he listened to my explanation
then told me i had too much free time.
in defense i maintain
it is better to observe nature
than watch television

old clock

old clock man was here
brought the metal guts
didn’t have to take
the heavy wooden case

just the grandmother works,
we talked of factories and parts
in America and Europe
how things have changed

of old cars, collectors, estate sales
and the time he opened
someone’s old dead clock
to find an equally dead

rattlesnake wound inside,
when he tried to get it out
it went back to nature
returned to dust

future talks

two more automakers are thinking
of launching an electric car
that was the promotional word – launching
it must be better if it sounds like a boat

and from here, a few days into the centu…
okay, actually a nine years into the
next thousand years
electric cars are the future

how’s that if you’re looking back?
and yes, I’ll take questions, go ahead
you there, the little one with the uh, . . .go ahead . . . -
why, no, I never knew the Earp brothers

was that kid kidding
or is the future that far ahead
that you forget
exactly where the past is?

apple cake

from a peg on the wall she took up
her worn canvas bag by the shoulder strap
said come on, we’re going to pick apples
near the corner across the street in the empty lot

there’s a neglected, half dragging to the ground,
poorly shaped, unremarkable old tree
not worth a glance,
and loaded with apples

we ate one to sample
half red, half yellow, a little strange to look at
but fresh off the tree
it was some old variety

forgotten, unattended and delicious apples
she filled the sack with a dozen or so
when she said she had enough,
we walked home

late that afternoon, after other tasks
by September sun streaming into the kitchen
she made an apple upside down
augmenting a vintage recipe found on the Internet

an hour after dinner
we each had a piece
of the best apple cake
i ever had tasted in my life




It would be too easy for M. and I to eat the whole thing, so I took the rest to my brother’s family. For us, there is always tomorrow.

look around

look around, you’ll see
old rock musicians
like politicians,
have taught us

if you stick around
long enough
you can always
make a comeback

an afternoon out

taking a slow walking pace
a few hours into the hills
easy now, said to the horse
reined up content
took a look around
into the advent of fall

the weather is kind
warm another time
leaves are dry
the autumn sun rounds the hills
at a lower angle in the sky
now winter’s just ahead

another change underway
trees will turn
geese will fly
come on boy
that’s enough, say goodbye,
we’re going home now

orderly salad order

Memorize this important catchy little salad poem and teach it to your children.

Ohhh, America eats it first
Europe eats it last
to lose weight fast
they say, then hey

vinegar, as in salad,
curbs desire for sugar,
as in desert
don’t you know?

eat salad last some say
can you believe it? don’t rush me now,
salad after main course aids digestion
it also blocks digestion when eaten first

but eat it first and it’s a palette cleaner
salad first curbs appetite to eat less overall
The contents of the stomach are released slowly
into the upper intestine, 1 or 2 teaspoons per minute

in summation: eat salad in the middle
or avoid it altogether, then again,
when they first came to America
the boat ride made everybody sick and confused anyway

final tip for orderly salad eating
use a fork and not you fingers
unless you’re a monkey, then no problem
you won’t eat salad anyway except bananas

robins gone

it's the last day of august
change is building in the air
worms are safe, robins gone
new bird children learned well enough
to wing away with the adults

in a few weeks they’ll return
to hop and peck around
for a few days of substanance
before the family flies south for the winter
free as a bird, means no luggage, to pack or carry

wisp

get a thought
take it with you
ride away on it
you won’t fall off

a soft puffy cloud
that will evaporate
before you do
possibly

when they were young

in the mid 60’s my buddy bill got
tickets to Mershon Auditorium
in Columbus, Ohio, a night
twenty-five hundred people packed in

we were the two white guys in the crowd
to see Gary U.S. Bond, Major Lance, the Drifters
the Temptations, The Ronettes, The Supremes
and Ray Charles

one after another
these great performers
huffed and puffed
and blew the house away

i remember when Ray was going into the falsetto
turnaround on Georgia on My Mind
there is a tiny pause at that point
the audience was silent in anticipation
a woman screamed out – Oh, sing it Ray, baby
Ray chuckled, the audience smiled and he did it

they all did it
knocked ‘em down
one after another
for everybody
all together
this night of music and love

back to the dentist

back to the dentist
maybe i should rent a bed there
find some second hand equipment
and do it myself, then again

the government checking itself for corruption
is like me checking myself for a bad tooth
cause even if i find one
i’m not going to do an extraction

today the dentist was doing my back upper
and used a little mirror to see
seemed rather tricky to me
he had to pause for a few seconds for something to dry

both he and his assistant did a habitual freeze, waiting
playing statues, like a comedy routine,
i laughed, my mouth was full of equipment,
so i couldn’t explain to them what was so funny

and they looked at me
like what is wrong with this guy?
and I’m the one in the chair with my mouth open
with their equipment and hands in my mouth

drove to the college town

a half hour drive away
we had coffee and a scone
where young students were about
more life than we usually see

there was traffic and people walking
as we passed several houses for sale
nothing in particular for us
though we tried to like what was there

the town wasn't special today
it was fine, but didn’t have our names on it
up and down the streets looking
then a while later we drove back home

when you see it you’ll know it
that’s what we hear all the time
and although we desire a change
so far its gone out of its way to avoid us

to enlighten mankind

open your eyes
close your mouth
go on a diet
start with yourself

middle of the night

middle of the night
had an idea for a poem
didn’t turn on the light
didn’t write it down

i got up and walked around
didn’t smoke, didn’t drank
just thank, like thinking
cause it was last night
it’s all past tense
in the darkness

and i wasn’t tense
i rested well, i can tell
makes sense, i’m just saying
the idea escaped me

came in, went by
leaving nothing to hang it on
got away completely
like clothes on the line in high wind
that first flaps, then blows
whap - took wing and flew away

another case of talking in my dream
about some poem, to some people
it’s what they said, or so i thought
and then they all got up and left at once

the whole flock thought took to the air transparent
gone, before i wrote something down
it got by me and went away
past tense

a dark figure

from the front step i saw
in the stillness of heavy dusk
a lone dark figure
amble my way down the street

perhaps it’s that bushy headed cute girl
with the cheery hello, who lives next door
that always sings walking her kitty
and has a happy word for everyone

i waited a moment
as the figure drew near i saw it was Rollo
the waddling ancient groundskeeper
from the local cemetery, tugging his little dog

and who rides the loudest riding mower in creation
always yells in your face, is irritating and grumpy,
with a chill in my spine i slipped into silent shadows,
maybe next time i'll say hi

dareson

i dareson give long sets of words
your time is tight
it might not be the right venue
to traffic in long verse

better to give a little now,
save the other thoughts
for some distant time
when i am not so terse

summer gone

dark hard rain and coolness
how soon summer turned away
still another week before august ends
so quickly warm days have gone astray

just picked raspberries
it’s not time for apples
we’re not ready for pumpkins
corn and tomatoes are yet to ripen fully
how can days lounging at the beach be over
there are short sleeves and sun hats to wear
it isn’t time to put them away

need i collar up against chill wind?
where have they gone - the kids on bicycles?
even the mail man is bundled up
and sits longer in his truck

brutal quick summer why have you departed?
you’re the season we want to last
and went on by like no other has
so quickly you have passed

jungle country vacation

when he was ten
and I was the age of lightning, long hair and magic
my son and i journeyed to Belize
to swim eat explore, and we did

returning through Mexico
border guards were hesitant alert
as we were afoot toting light luggage
but took a chance and let us enter their country

that overnight dirt road through jungle toward the north star
hobbling potholes packed on a tired rusty dull blue bus
amid ripe fruit, peasants, potions and shamans
my son secure and asleep, i fell into dream in some rear seat

awaken by rays of yellow dawn light, my head resting
on the breast of a congenial country woman.
we departed the bus later that morning
all waved to us, she was still smiling

oldies

heard songs on a oldies station at the dentist
made me cringe, tell you way,
Buddy Holly, Peggy Sue,
get this: fifty years ago it was an oldie

it was recorded fifty-one years ago
i remember it the first time,
and they all sound different to me now
the individual instruments can be heard

how i process them in my mind
how they sound technically, remixed
the space between the notes
the sound with decent speakers

now reproduced in stereo
add my own playing, knowledge, abilities
all the sounds of the passing years
packed in my head

a half century of music
enough oldies, plenty, i mean it,
i’m full, where’s sophistication?
time to turn the musical corner

vacuum space time

The top paper among physicists in meeting Belgiam 2009
was presented by Nassim Haramein.

vacuum space time
warp space time
zero, zero, zero, zero, point one percent
of all space is material

way down, down
to the other end
into molecules
is infinite space

half

half is woman
Afghanistan is voting
the world is waiting

they are hoping
they can do
half are women

wake up
we are in
this world together

the Commander

the Commander is flaps down
on approach to the final tarmac
wrapping up his mission

Pa is on the way out
or maybe in
depending how you read it

a few years ago he drove us
back from Tony’s Restaurant
in an Arizona hill town

as he sped hard to pass a truck
i commented, “so you miss
flying those WWII PBY’s, Tom”

we all laughed
and to tears will laugh again
saluting the Commander

counsel

keeping my distance
working on other things
well, on the porch sipping coffee
while she does garden cleanup

the trash man is coming
i tell her it will be 90 today
interrupting drinking and heavy thinking
she calls me to help

as she attempts to stuff
a seventy pound glump of zucchini plants
into a thirty pound capacity bag,
providing counsel i advise

i can’t be done, won’t be done
and she does it anyway
then lugs all
to the curb for pickup

instead of yard work
perhaps i could convince her
to collect postage stamps,
they’re easier to lift

market watch

with real time quotes
I can watch it all
second by second
keeping a tight hand

today i set all in place
had my coffee
did other things
often reviewing

checked often,
after two and a half hours
i realized it is Sunday,
the market is closed

thunder blue

thunder blue
are you true
had to write that true line cause it sounds
like a mid twentieth century torch song
in a night club with burgundy velvet drapery
the clinking of glasses, voices and laughter
and a lot of smoking going on
this table, please
i want to be close to the band stand

lets put rain beating against the windows
and Bogart and Bacall hats down walking in the rain
this is where the thunder comes in
hey, there’s Gene Kelly
he wants to dance in the downpour
holly mackerel, it’s a musical
no wonder i got up early
i didn’t want to miss anything

spare a quarter, spare a quarter
you win some and you lose a few
there’s the line by the church
they feed indigents breakfast
that looks like your mother
and it’s you she’s carrying
how’s your cards look now
little smarty pants

my son was here

now to put away in my head that my son was here
with his wife and two young daughters
children and grandchildren, ours for a week
they’ve gone back home

m. and i must reassemble,
meals once again quiet and simple
in the old house silent
where already clocks tick louder

we’ll drive fewer miles
with no one to show,
the heavy and hard to reach special chores will be undone
without assistance from the skilled, able younger man

and no one will thrill looking hard for berries, frogs or eagles
the happy calliope of the ice cream truck will pass barely noticed
soon leaves will dry crisp and golden unseen by them
as the flapping wings and honks of wild geese soar low overhead

seasons turn rolling like clouds on the wind
the lake will grow wild and thrash
then grey lie calm still, iced over
without their attention

while great joy lingers
there is also sadness in the wake
for all great moments are not all game winning seconds
the first and the fastest and the farthest and the medals

sometimes the joys are quiet
as were moments seated on the back porch
at night in low voice talking
saying nothing in particular

life is a trade of joys and sorrows
here’s a toast to them
warm toast and butter to the joys
with homemade jelly smeared all over it

a crowd of poets

a crowd of poets
is a sad thing,
they're always holding hands
and crying

lincoln train

I found accounts that showed it came near the village of New London, Ohio, only a few miles from here. The year was 1865.


cool for April, spring came late that year
somber groups dispersed along the track
as far as the eye could see, neighbors in the night
reduced to profiles in the darkness

by the hour all were really tired
nervous in anticipation, wishing it’d arrive
3:25 in the morning, there about
there was a spot of wavering light in the distance

the same instant a voice cried out
then young Earl spotted it
“it’s coming” his wavering shout rang like a shot
over the now silent multitude assembled

some sobbing could be heard
as the lumbering of the locomotive slowly passed
the dark shadow of the funeral train
carrying the body of their fallen leader.

another season

i heard a frog voice last night at three
once every thirty seconds
old Herb did every fifteen
but that was a month ago

another month,
another season,
another frog?

you could spell the frog’s name Herb,
but what he said was erb
guess that’s herb with a small H

maybe frogs
have trouble
with their h’s.

spell

hands over apple carts
heels stomping knaves
strapped on a barrel
pearls hidden in caves

after line thimbles
knotted in haste
stumble and dribble
cookies to paste

orange, blue and pink
everything beckons
don’t even think
of askin’ for seconds

oh, i lost it
I did, more or less
t’was casting a spell,
least, that’d be my guess

where do i park it

in my head I still have
my 52 Chevy pickup truck
that i sold fourteen years ago

was the same make and model
as Phil’s who had the gas station
across the street when i was a kid

where we used to play
while he worked on cars
and i rode in the back when he took
his son and i out to the family farm

i found an old truck like it, loved it
got it back like old and new
it ticked, ticked, ticked

so now where do i park it
in my mind?

leaping leapers - good fortune

i fell, what the hell
washing the car
didn’t fall far
and i rolled

like Batman Senior. jumping out of an airplane
my feet didn’t tangle in the parachute
wasn’t about to break anything on the landing
not with a bucket in the way, not this time

lying on my back wet in driveway water
staying put, looking at the sky, like i oughter
knew i learned my lesson the last time
and that was the - way last time

i figured a clean front fender
wasn’t worth a month in a cast, not again
man, i was computin’ fast
tuck and roll, tuck and roll

now i have to call my friends
tell all the good fortune i’ve captured
or maybe just take a nap instead,
either way, i’m smiling, unfractured

direct, indirect

being a direct descendant
of one hundred fifty ten thousand years
off the Polish isles near the bleak Russian tundra
i hugged a widdle blankie over my shoulder

my french/scotch/irish/cherokee bride
on the other hand, spurned all covers
as one born in the boileroom of the boiler making plant
generates her own heat and some for the city of Minneapolis
and for Pittsburgh

special on the board

on the board two, scrambled with cheese
get the signal, shake off a menu
heavy hitter Nicky takes my order
try to see the newspaper
down the pipe, over the shoulder of
the guy at the table in front of me
on the board it's three for, two opposed,
the ayes have it, no rain today

on deck, waiting my order, making notes
off the board it’s two flips and a tuck
did a flip back and curl into reality
tasted good, grease is good
I like bacon, sipped coffee,
left a buck ride on the table
am I fit to drive?

winky and blinky

winky and blinky out at night
by light of a cheddar moon
laughed til they cried and hung on tight
as they pranced to every tune

hop a diddle they could
crisp and doodle might
doing what they really should
and thusly passed the night

see the hours fly on by
wrapped to the skin in fest
spinning, swimming eye to eye
of course you know the rest

planted on a quiet hill
on the road to the hereafter
some say sometimes when nights are still
you can hear bits of their laughter

poetry masters

oh yes, we’ve poetry masters
like America’s Walt Whitman
who thump covered a lot of bases
green waving fields, lightening flashes
blood red and dead gray fallen soldiers

bubbles of crystal clear rippling streams
by farmer’s long faces and torches
on the global sphere mystery and chants
for ten thousand of thousands of years
forward and back leaping

know how times have changed
for all of us
for in all of his words
of roots, songs, joys, and power,
of fury, nomads, nations, legions, submission,

banners, fires burning, pageants
and frost-mellowed berries
in those cherished times of olde
some lonely dim shadowed snowy eve
with walking staff and collar up

Walt never mentioned
stopping on his way home
to pick up a lotto ticket,
pizza with his favorite topping
or a movie

if here now, today
maybe stop for a pizza and a beer
i don't know, don't think he'd own a TV
and, stewards of the earth,
where'd the clear water go

ain't got money

even though we ain’t got money
i’m so in love with you honey
Kenny loggins wrote that near forty years ago
today i heard the anne murray recording
over the speakers at the festival
where the clock seems wound back years
in the heights
a small Ohio town
that managed to stay that way

this morning to the fire station for pancakes
this afternoon a short block walk
from the single village stop light
to a barbeque downtown

like it was
so it remains
small talk
happy voices
familiar faces
a peaceful village
god bless the little towns

where'd de go?

no mosquitoes okay
but where’s the lightning bugs
or fireflies, as some say,
but that’s in other parts

not here in humid hot hell
take a breath and sweat
stick to the chair summer
winged beetleful ohio

where’d de go?
gimmie da glow
i wanna know
those delightful iridescent call 'em yellow lightning bugs

da filthy rich

yeah, buddy? you say
you got a million bucks
well that’s just fine
now take a step back in line there, son

we gots us some real money folk comin in
you noticed the world making money
and stealin’ what they have to
well, only out’a necessity, that’s all

i’m telling you, kid
they don’t mean nuthin’ by it
what chew called there?
yeah, you. . . .

oh, that’s fine, now like i say
the rich gets richer
while the rest of you Head Count
is not needed for much of nuthin’

unless is for being
good foot soldiers
we need those, you see
they pick up things on the parade grounds

and i don’t mean jes communicable diseases
hah, hah, pieces of paper and shit like that
an' they can walk in a straight line
an' everything

an' look fine for when
the real important people,
the important people, make their speeches
ya hear me? - don’t chew see?

now step a little closer,
crowd in here,
that’s it
so’s i donze haz ta yell

nightmare

i know you were renting,
well, your home is our house now
you see, we are going to buy it
would you move out please

wait, what i said last week
forget about it
yeah, cancel the movers
we changed our mind

see if you can get
your deposit back on the new place
oh, and here, this stuff
was in your mailbox

i guess it’s yours again,
most of it’s junk mail anyway
hope you don’t mind,
i clipped out all the coupons

when i'm flying

often we pass a certain high tension pole
supporting large power lines
that run for miles over the rolling country side
in mornings, large birds called turkey vultures or buzzards
set on the metal branches with wings partially spread
to dry them from nightly dew

one of the most skilled aviary flyers in the Americas,
these giants have been seen to soar
as long as six hours
without flapping their wings

today on the pinnacle of the tall vertical metal tower
a bird perched, wings fully extended
in it’s full six foot span
gallant as an eagle on an American emblem

seeing that bird atop all, in golden morning light
my wife put words in that wild creature’s beak
when she said,
“this is what i look like when i’m flying.”

at the same time
he whispered to me
“i can soar higher, longer, faster
than you can ever dream.”

tend your still

words on a note
i know i wrote
cause it was on a piece of paper
in my pocket

couldn’t figure why
i asked her and yes, she said it
that’s why i wrote it down
tend your still

nice words together
i asked what it means
she said it’s what you do
in West Virginia

three steps

needed house front steps,
didn’t want wood,
in our town it’s normal to call a cement contractor
that’s a guy who has a truck and pours cement

not a problem, i’d call a guy, then another and another
the job to pour three steps was too small to be bothered with
they had big jobs, long driveways to keep them from tiny steps
so i thought and thought - and thought of stone

at the stone quarry they said they could do it,
cut Indiana Blue Sandstone i selected, and deliver it,
set the stone down one , two, three
all i had to do was provide the dimensions for three blocks

three weeks i planned. the first time i measured i thought i had it
a few days later i checked my figures and they were wrong,
so i did it again, three blocks, one, two, three on top of each other
it was many days to get it right.

i had to prepare the ground, no one else would do it,
so I raked, then measured the first block, the second had to fit
back under the wood of the door, and the third
had to be even with the inside floor. one, two, three

on and on i figured stone dimensions, and finally had it right.
the bottom block was largest,
the second and third were equally smaller.
it all would fit, everything tight.

the day they delivered the stone in a large truck with a crane,
they had one block cut wrong by two inches on one side.
I recalculated and told them put them down. one, two, three
in a half hour i had them down and perfect,

you can’t tell they made a cutting error.
now we have our three stone steps
the bottom, the second recessed under the Georgian doorway
the third level with the inside wood floor

come back in two hundred years, you’ll see
the house may be gone,
but the steps will be there
one, two, three

dry my tears

dry my tears
in my dreams
i'm in my world
you are you

i may yell
but don’t cry often
hug my fears
then they soften

truth over fiction

a fast horse pays
the loser begs
truth is fiction
with better legs

M. is going shopping

M. is going shopping at trader joe’s
it’s an hour away
she’s taking me along
and will drop me off at a friend’s
who wants to show me his new bookcase - wow

that’ll take about a minute
so she told me to start now
to write down as many questions
about bookcases
that I can think of

4:09 a.m.

when I wake
in the middle of the night
as I often do,
should I listen with headphones
to radio reports on the BBC
or listen instead to the silence
and think my own thoughts?

what I was thinking in my world was dreaming not thinking
i can tell cause i woke up

what i was
thinking in
my world was
dreaming not
thinking i can
tell cause
i woke up

check out time

quite a morning breeze
that knocked down
her favorite dark red hollyhocks
while she was looking
out the kitchen window

then she saw it leap
through the flowers
in blowing rain and heavy winds
that came for hours and hours
one more frog followed the exit sign
one more for the road

leaving only a pair
out there
a boy frog
and his girlfrog friend
loving right down
to the very end

as luck would have it

as luck would have it
an expression that grew because others
recognized it, picked it up and rolled with it,
it became a part of the vernacular

so, as luck did have it, seven old friends
happened together for an afternoon
to laugh and compare
review and declare

five friends stopped by our home
fifty years ago five of us were in that summer,
that particular time of our young lives,
before our first year of high school began

if we could have fed our friends
and wrapped them in blankets
they would have stayed all night
however, on improvisation we did okay

mark it as a day well done
in light drink, snacks, long talk and laughter
pile this onto our stack of pleasant memories
of life worth living - good fortune for us

the whittler

sun shines on a small diner
built a century past
on what is still a quiet off street
in the little town
we enter, take a table
the business is slow

two quiet women are at one table
three happy workers lunch at the counter
they are having a good old time
we hear the youngest tells the others
he is going to whittle this weekend
then shows his new large very sharp pocket knife
they all marvel

then the older says what ever you do
be sure you don’t cut off your thumb
of course not, the younger says, but why say that?
cause the guy says, you’re going to need it
to pick up your finger
much laughter filled the room

Mexican food

Mexican food at a roadside diner
with a chic-latin name in Somewhere’sville, Ohio
the stucco outside painted red and blue, looks right
with food prepared by Mexicans
from ingredients,
though available locally,
were probably frozen and trucked
across long American highways from anywhere

pleasant low volume music was authentic
as I imagine were the workers immigration cards
I ordered three enchiladas stuffed with
some kind of white cheese - gooey
in a sauce once based on tomatoes
currently based on grease and memories
of how it could be somewhere
the beans and rice were good, so was the coffee
the cost reasonable, the food wasn’t terrible,
it also had precious little to do with Mexico
hey, you want good Mexican food
better go to California

the shallow cove

the shallow cove narrows
by brushes and thickets
our old row boat sparkles
under sunned running waters

when spring floods the low lands
all return and rebuild
for memories run deeper
than fat fish go up stream

papoon

papoon, the Iroquois called it
when they gave it to settlers
along the Susquehanna river
around 1779

knee high by the fourth of july. we say
the Indians probably had a version
or made a motion with their hand
it was special for them also

it’s planted in fields prepared and well tended
now an American tradition
seeded in good long rows
they’ve got the procedure down pat

and hope for rain
the sun does the rest
tall and green with wispy tassels on the stalks
then pick it at the peak

old timers made pipes from the cobs,
you clean the golden vegetable, cook it
every one runs to devour the feast
sure tastes good

add butter and salt the way you like
I sure do, since I was a kid
means it’s really summer
sweet corn

sunday my brother

Sunday my brother
now an old fisherman
took us in his boat
up brown river

through turns and trees
years fell away in ripples
as in seasons long ago
when humid air was still

turtles, fish, mossy fallen painted signs
by snags from leaning, half sunken trees
a heron tall in the branches watching
the river course changes
from flood and growth
always changing
water up and water down

a golf course where a farm used to be
now many new houses
old shacks fallen
a corner where we camped
another where we fished
duck blind in the marsh
a spot we had ventured to
paddling a canoe up mud brook creek
by jumping fish, sleeping deer and water birds
some sweet summer ago

river fest

this morning
while meandering quietly at the piano
i paused and heard the patter out side
not raindrops this time

it was runners in a something k event
we went out to see them go by
then later came youngsters in a little k
only last night from the front door we saw
fireworks boom over the river
and launch high golden,
red, flashes sparkles blue dripping fire
booms to shatter the evening sky
filling the night for revelers
to open hearts
hello the neighbors
hear the music

today the boom was thunder
a real corker, rain in buckets
seemingly a never ender
that finished in the nick of time
for the start of the parade

sunshine for the floats, the twirlers,
fire truck and the marching band
then off to the firehouse for a barbeque,
and the library for the book sale

tonight it's bands again
rides and games
food booths and fun
for children of all ages

make some noise
hold some events
and the town will turn out
to unify and enjoy
another fine summer weekend

face lift for an old village

a bed and breakfast
all decked out, not moving
like a ship in dry dock
the owner’s husband split
so she dressed the place like a dollhouse
lacked only a key to wind it up

my wife liked it, but does more shopping than I
not into pastels and ruffles myself
ok, little wrapped chocolates in a dish
no oil lamps I understand, electricity is fine

but I missed the manly respect to history in detail
give me a hammer, saw, raw wood and cigar smoke
let me walk old boards not puffy carpet

on the street I hum obscure half melodies
watch stylish girls window shop
and startle to the loud music booms
from SUV’s cruising slowly by

an old town in new times
caught twix and tween
undecided which way to go
leaving tourists to wander

pond '09

the day before spring really began,
five or six feet tall when stretching,
the long neck, long winged blue heron
got twenty of our fish

tore heck out of the pond in his frenzy
a neighbor saw it on our roof, damn invader
Big Red and Reddy-Whitey gone, among others
for ten years they’d been here,ours to enjoy

the pond now runs anew,
with the remaining nine,
the fortunate few
that made the cut

Frank, the angry bluegill, record size for sure,
and fifteen, or so, inch-long tiny baby fish are hiding
in the moss usually, occasionally swimming round
and around in the summer sun, and growing,

a small water snake will go
when I can get him,
hopefully soon, before he’s any larger
let’s call him Slither

then the good surprise, baby frogs
two I saw yesterday, smaller than I would have imagined,
only a half-finger’s length each, arms and legs,
with eyes, protruding dark spheres, tiny above the water

the small pond is teaming growth, new associations
water bugs - many, but don’t count
cause they’re too varied, small and quick
to tell apart and name them

woodpeckers, black birds, sparrows,
wrens, orioles, robins, of course,
and others, dash around for a drink
or a splash in the small falls,

giant bright red and pale orange blossoms
of the lily, with pads that cover
two-thirds of the water’s surface,
like the book says they should

as guardian for this while,
I’m checking on it
pour in some biological sauce now and then,
mostly leave it be, keeping peace

while M. gardens around,
an eye out for the serpent
and as if there isn’t enough for them to eat,
she feeds the fish, but they like it

we’re caretakers,
for this dot of time,
on this lovely tiny plot
tucked back, in what was the center of he old village,
behind our home built in the 1830’s
where the preacher lived over forty-two years,
and then he died, then she did too

as the earth spins
some things end
others begin
sun goes up
sun goes down,
hey, it’s nice to be around

come on, summer
give it your best shot

a descended larynx

a descended larynx
is why you speak
and your dog can only try
sadness, though, is more common
many animals can cry

highway 80

on highway 80 across Pennsylvania we saw deer
not houses, barns, towns, people, cows or barking dogs
occasionally in the distance a town
rooftops and a steeple in the woods, jammed under trees

incredible, and true, passing through
there is only green leaf wilderness to be seen
roll on trees on rolling green in morning dew
hill after hill, rolling green and on

highway not filled with greyhound buses
their time gone in the passing lane
where large 18 wheelers pulling three
and private vehicles, SUV’s, roll on

early in the morn heard portions
of three songs on the radio, only three
get down, get down, cocaine, ho, ho, hosanna and
from a half century ago jerry lee lewis - great balls of fire

radio off then, we rolled on with the rest of them
up and down long hills, in silence, and on through green
road hum the beat and the accompaniment, and on
they could have called it treesylvania

open to the passionate long green and misty air
mysteries under leaves by summer deer
hills, rivers and long cloud sky abound
once indians, then pioneers, first walked this way

all the while we sleep

Chew this one slowly. Taking a pause. Be back later.


all the while we sleep
dancing in dream
someone is watching

over long fields of grass
through the great forests
lonely small animals search
for food, or the way to water
for a drink

in stillness the trees
hold their arms up
protecting those beneath
without question
the center of that world
the one unobserved

news sources don’t explain
that an old oak is near death
outliving its usefulness
because a child’s swing is gone
and no one will again
climb that high to tie new ropes

or that a great rock has rolled
for eons until the flaked gram is mistaken
for another piece of sand castle

while we sleep it goes on
in the personage of the milkman and baker
i remember the horse-drawn wagon
used once in a while,
painted red, and crawling down our main street
so that half-pints of cream would be there
chilled in the morning by
crisp, nose-pinching air

a stump has given way for a babe
a green shoot, that given half a chance
could grow larger than the parent
but probably won’t because of what is now
a poor location for a tree

june bugs and fire flies
not in number that we knew
no longer are they swept from the sidewalks
grasshoppers and dragon flies
aren’t about quite as they were
and violets, unceasingly underfoot
are less frequent

the hand-crank telephone
that slept in the shed
is gone to a collector
and given a price

the one-armed man
who rolled his own cigarettes
isn’t at the gas station in the afternoons
to tell us his stories
and his son has moved to the city

two-laners are multiplied
one-laners are grown over
and the last remnants of the old street car bed
are just gone

while we sleep one truck
slows in the snow
as furious windshield-wipers battle
to clear the glass
someone is looking, looking into a blue
and motionless night

glowing red barns
sporting tobacco leafs picture
and larger than life yellow words
are dirty grey between wide gaps
from board to board
the wind uses this place now
to hum through

but the grass still grows
short, thin and tireless to trampling
amid papers bags and candy wrappers
no matter
the unknown, never mown glen
harbors a curious ant
enjoying a climb up
and around
to seemingly nowhere

and the river still flows
where my brother and i
took the great canoe in search of ducks
but just as much, in search of adventure
that went with the south river brook

all the while we sleep
someone is dancing over our dreams
with you and i where we were
or might have been
another time and altogether

one day you will do the same
forever and forever ‘til forever

ninety degrees

ninety degrees, humid and full up on robins
plus four eggs on deck in the nest
no one sits on the them today
must be plenty warm enough

one robin in the bird bath
one waiting, looks like he’s sweating
bird family’s sharing water space
most of the time, or too hot to argue

one this side of the pond
one’s in the water falls,
one waiting
everyone’s wet, ruffled and cranky

‘cept the eggs
they’re getting
their newbie brains
cooked in the shell



went out to check the nest
a bird’s back with the eggs
took five minutes for it to sit down
must be hot on the bird’s bottom

a billion

the other day I wrote about chocolate
a pleasant thought for us,
this morning on the BBC I heard
the World Food Organization announced
the number of hungry people in the world
is now estimated to be a billion

that’s one of every six people
who don’t have enough to eat
among these are parents
needing food to feed
their hungry children

like you, i have no answers
other than doing the best we can
in this world
with each other
one person at a time

jungle fish

This is a poem i posted in April. I put it out again for no special reason;I just felt like it.

jungle fish

you and i
haven’t seen it all
don’t say you have
don’t think about it
no need to

not all the world caresses
some hurts
and dumps upon us
in papers and magazines
the news of course, they call it that
the video, the Internet that brings pieces
bam banging slapping sounds
pumping games flashing colors into children's heads
Marshall McLuhan was right the medium is the message
now i add, TV did more to destroy the world than educate
I have seen Guatemalan jungle natives in see-through straw huts
watching far away New York soap operas
on TV powered by a noisy gas generator
the soap opera had NYC folk
in nice clothes and makeup
drinks in hand and the natives,
ready to throw a spear through a monkey,
were sitting women breast naked in
a rag covering their crotches
and I’m walking by their hut and
can look right through it
and see them sitting glazed over stuck to the screen.
maybe they flashed me the peace sign
and maybe I gave them the finger
cause they were screwed

media chunks show how people dress and hold their heads
how they clothe their pet animals
while city buses so full
those at the door exit to let others on
dead fish are laid to rest in tins and wait consumption this way

passing by are the rich and famous in their rings and finery
with guards tagging alongside
lest reality get too close
best they remain cushioned
aloof from commoners and dirt poor

on the street notices are
handed by strangers to strangers
pasted across shop windows
stuffed in trash cans or
dropped they litter the streets
are stepped upon, pushed along
where the head count clashes with
the clean, pressed white shirts and latest ties
and we, hats on backwards
in over sized sacky things to cover how fat we are
that resemble sports team garments,
wrinkled sweat stained bags with a bright bold number on it
the number of a hero on the squad
named for a predatory animal
as a sweaty tourist screams at the counter waitress
give me a coke before I die

and I see them sun glassed now
all the while quick stepping alone
bumping into each other
unaware, as if stoned
talking on cell phones
while the senseless talk to themselves
and need no phone
who is changing the world?

for all the while
the sun goes up
the sun goes down

past eleven

past eleven we read
then went to bed
had earphone on my head
listened to jazz

seemed only a moment later
she said, “mnff enofff mnevff”
“good night”, i replied
then with one eye

i glanced at the clock
it was 4:22
one of us must have been talking
to the sand man

chocolate

wait, don’t get up, nothing else will do,
if we don’t have any, that’s okay,
i won’t eat any, chocolate, that is

there’s more that way for the rest of the world
and others may really need it
consider it practically a good deed

I ‘ll get by just thinking about it,
not all the time of course, just now and then
like now, when I really would like some

earth angle

we’re on an angle here folks
whether you’re north or south
a peak happened yesterday - 21 June
not a moment too soon

you could tell by the moon
the slant of the sun
or a shadow on the wall
what season’s begun

which one we’ve lost
and has started to run us
all the way back
the other way
from which we’ve just come

or do you live in a cave maybe
and see in the dark
with eyes in your butt?
if so, how's your wireless?

the boys on the garbage truck

the boys on the garbage truck
specifically, on the leaves and sticks truck
yard waste they call it, somebody named it that
well, they’re out there this morning, on schedule

i walked out to retrieve our cans and heard their chatter
one lad laughed when he told me he was giving grief to the driver
having fun they were, keeping it light
while doing a ton of work for everyone in town

house to house they pick up heavy containers
and throw the stuff on the giant truck
i don’t know if the same crew switches trucks for the garbage
and return for the recyclables

but they keep going
every day another route
picking it up, throwing it on,
and on and on

are they paid well, or are they convicts on work parole?
hard to tell because of how young people dress these days,
returning every week, in all weather
we’re all mighty fortunate they do

sunday morning at JC Penny

Sunday morning at JC Penny’s
quiet with no confusion
the stately tall elderly man in the bow tie
has come out of retirement to work a bit

he’s the cashier in the men’s department
it’s what he knows how to do well
can assist, chat if you want, and he gets contact
with people, he’s good at that

a long time ago on my first jobs
i worked Sundays
guess when you’re older and alone
that’s also a fine way to end

mission to the moon

as in the Wizard of Oz,
pay no attention to the man
behind the curtain,
no need disturb the flow of thought

the U. S. government announces
returning to the moon
to look for water
a space craft is going there,
up and away

in no unfamiliar logic
the best minds available in government
boasting the world's most sophisticated technology
have decided this scientific endeavor,
so we'll be bombing for water