we knew these faces well
Carol, Toby, Phillip and others
classmates we grew up with
some lie face up
in the faraway fields under stone
while a few remain connected
others run apart, neglected
gone astray, to other places
what can you say?
we've had fine times and new friends
danced to the music
moved to the drum
loved in the sun
that's what we've done
through all it's seasons
we've seen what has become
laughed and we've cried
oh, so hard we tried
while wandering, wondering and discovering
we're watching the time
what work need we do
before we're through
here's a salute to everyone, that's for sure
the old friends, the new, the soon to be,
now, the rest of you, come along,
just keep moving along
Saturday, July 26, 2008
train sounds
run to the stairs and hear the train
only softly it comes
a gentler horn sounds
softer than i have ever heard
it's like the Morse Code,
from the tapping of the horn
you can tell the nature
of the engineer
only softly it comes
a gentler horn sounds
softer than i have ever heard
it's like the Morse Code,
from the tapping of the horn
you can tell the nature
of the engineer
Labels:
trains
Friday, July 25, 2008
bees
jeeze, these big bees, boy
you should see them
buzz by
why they're big as my thumb
and don't even see me standing near
watching them gorge themselves
must get loaded on honey
when they stick their heads
in the flowers
for hours
jeeze oh pete
you should see them
buzz by
why they're big as my thumb
and don't even see me standing near
watching them gorge themselves
must get loaded on honey
when they stick their heads
in the flowers
for hours
jeeze oh pete
Labels:
poems of nature
Thursday, July 24, 2008
we lived on a boat
we lived on a boat
with our cat
and dreamed well
on gentle lapping water
smoothly rocking
to rhythms of the ripples
a boat passing in the channel
seagulls swoop and dive nearby
long rolling clouds and far stars
the moaning fog horn
then misty quiet dawn
softly beginning
with our cat
and dreamed well
on gentle lapping water
smoothly rocking
to rhythms of the ripples
a boat passing in the channel
seagulls swoop and dive nearby
long rolling clouds and far stars
the moaning fog horn
then misty quiet dawn
softly beginning
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
so long bob evans
full of local folk
working hard to make some money
and stay ahead in the game
but, the Bobster is giving me
too much rock and roll for breakfast
keeping it loud, no matter how many times
i've asked him to turn it down
the manager likes it that way, you see
forty year old rock piped blasting
you have to speak up over breakfast
then chew weaving to the beat
run 'em in
run it out
eat it up
now run along
we ran along
to the older Star Diner,
they provide a media vacuum
no music or TV
the sounds you hear are customers talking
and theirs is local food
the way you'd do it
how we like it
now this morning, who did we see
eating at the next table
but Diana the sweet, elderly hostess from Bob Evan's
I said, hello Diana
and should have remembered to add
a paraphrase of her greeting
"Welcome to the Star Diner"
working hard to make some money
and stay ahead in the game
but, the Bobster is giving me
too much rock and roll for breakfast
keeping it loud, no matter how many times
i've asked him to turn it down
the manager likes it that way, you see
forty year old rock piped blasting
you have to speak up over breakfast
then chew weaving to the beat
run 'em in
run it out
eat it up
now run along
we ran along
to the older Star Diner,
they provide a media vacuum
no music or TV
the sounds you hear are customers talking
and theirs is local food
the way you'd do it
how we like it
now this morning, who did we see
eating at the next table
but Diana the sweet, elderly hostess from Bob Evan's
I said, hello Diana
and should have remembered to add
a paraphrase of her greeting
"Welcome to the Star Diner"
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
in wood times
in wood times i've spent walking
gathering colors, tasting sounds
by ferns, tall grass, and animals
under the forest canopy, making rounds
flushing pheasants as i go
they streak off in a line
then to stop, a place i know
amid green berries on the vine
wild white rolling clouds above
reflect the light, contrast the blue
in nature's time i touch the love
and symmetry by which things grew
the wind plays light and sweet
with mint and closer scents
honeysuckle and wildflower complete
the multicolored firmament
at a small creek bank i pause to drink
and there, witness life within
a small plant reaches water's brink
the shoots are young and thin
where hours pass i cannot say
the sun marks shadows on the land
little voices beg me to stay
i promise trees, i'll come again
gathering colors, tasting sounds
by ferns, tall grass, and animals
under the forest canopy, making rounds
flushing pheasants as i go
they streak off in a line
then to stop, a place i know
amid green berries on the vine
wild white rolling clouds above
reflect the light, contrast the blue
in nature's time i touch the love
and symmetry by which things grew
the wind plays light and sweet
with mint and closer scents
honeysuckle and wildflower complete
the multicolored firmament
at a small creek bank i pause to drink
and there, witness life within
a small plant reaches water's brink
the shoots are young and thin
where hours pass i cannot say
the sun marks shadows on the land
little voices beg me to stay
i promise trees, i'll come again
Labels:
favorites
Monday, July 21, 2008
a butter year's worth
with one pass
may as well run like a wagging dog
wild in joy in the wind
and do what you can
with what you've got
when i wrote songs
i spent too many hours repeating them
trying to hold all of them in my head
keeping the old ones familiar
getting poems right seems more to the point
i can work words back and forth
don't have to play them in a straight line
and when i'm done they stay there
then anyone can pick them up exactly
not like a song
that you have to play or listen to
beginning to end
words you can play with
then take them along in your head
that's packing light
even a whole butter year's worth
may as well run like a wagging dog
wild in joy in the wind
and do what you can
with what you've got
when i wrote songs
i spent too many hours repeating them
trying to hold all of them in my head
keeping the old ones familiar
getting poems right seems more to the point
i can work words back and forth
don't have to play them in a straight line
and when i'm done they stay there
then anyone can pick them up exactly
not like a song
that you have to play or listen to
beginning to end
words you can play with
then take them along in your head
that's packing light
even a whole butter year's worth
Labels:
poems on poetry
roots
a tai chi master said
he'd live well
in a small jail cell
with only a few feet of space
to exercise and be happy
good for him, if he gets arrested he can try
although i understand his intentions
it's not my slice of pie
but, there is a lesson in what he mentions
tai chi takes very little space
and is good exercise
head space is a comfort when filled
with tranquility, understanding and kindness
however, when i find mental peace
i can remain in that place
until i open this mouth on my face, then off i go
why can't i simplify my pace?
give it away to find peace
give all to love is the root
it is an effort to get to the roots
this is why you have to dig for them
not lie on the beach
and dust them off when you get up
he'd live well
in a small jail cell
with only a few feet of space
to exercise and be happy
good for him, if he gets arrested he can try
although i understand his intentions
it's not my slice of pie
but, there is a lesson in what he mentions
tai chi takes very little space
and is good exercise
head space is a comfort when filled
with tranquility, understanding and kindness
however, when i find mental peace
i can remain in that place
until i open this mouth on my face, then off i go
why can't i simplify my pace?
give it away to find peace
give all to love is the root
it is an effort to get to the roots
this is why you have to dig for them
not lie on the beach
and dust them off when you get up
Sunday, July 20, 2008
21st Century Shopping
the superstore is a football field deep
and nearly as wide in the food department,
turning a corner to another aisle
i head him talking before i saw him
the man in the dark fine suit pants without jacket and tie
busily occupied and trying to look relaxed as he
fingered through cans of tomato sauce
he carried himself like a businessman who
regularly commanded authority,
on a cell phone asking questions,
getting instructions, searching
minutes later he passed hurriedly
and i heard the words "sour cream"
at the same time, behind me
a woman was rapidly talking into her cell phone
i knew they were not talking to each other
not to be outdone and remembering Dick Tracy
i bowed my head and spoke a few words into my sleeve
where my wristwatch would be
if i had one
and nearly as wide in the food department,
turning a corner to another aisle
i head him talking before i saw him
the man in the dark fine suit pants without jacket and tie
busily occupied and trying to look relaxed as he
fingered through cans of tomato sauce
he carried himself like a businessman who
regularly commanded authority,
on a cell phone asking questions,
getting instructions, searching
minutes later he passed hurriedly
and i heard the words "sour cream"
at the same time, behind me
a woman was rapidly talking into her cell phone
i knew they were not talking to each other
not to be outdone and remembering Dick Tracy
i bowed my head and spoke a few words into my sleeve
where my wristwatch would be
if i had one
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