yesterday In the final hour of afternoon
beyond, and just over the long road west
a giant red sun, larger than I’d ever seen her
waiting, hanging like a swollen planet Jupiter
poised for going down
i paused my car in the parking lot to see her
like a girl set for glamour, she wanted to be seen,
and now I know I’ve seen one of the best
a Goliath, placid and serene
then this morning
what surprise do i log
but a blanket, the complete cover
thick and heavy, dawn’s pearly fog
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Ohio Sweet Corn
way back
a’ fore's born
Ohioans crowed
‘bout their corn
folk’s different,
albeit dull to bright,
but Ohio sweet corn
they got that right
that damn sweet corn, clap your hands
damn sweet corn, damn sweet corn
sweet corn, sweet corn
oh, man, they got that right
(repeat and fade)
a’ fore's born
Ohioans crowed
‘bout their corn
folk’s different,
albeit dull to bright,
but Ohio sweet corn
they got that right
that damn sweet corn, clap your hands
damn sweet corn, damn sweet corn
sweet corn, sweet corn
oh, man, they got that right
(repeat and fade)
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
town in my head
the old town’s in my head
or so my wife said
and looking around
i tend to believe her
cause it isn’t all here
like the market that was there
where is it now?
gone, i can’t see it
the pressed tin ceiling, wide wood floors,
tall shelves, the old doors,
a large revolving fan,
the man wiping his hands on his apron?
there locals gathered
to talk while they shopped
amid the chatter
stories were swapped
over the years changes were made,
so where did they go
the kids and the folks
that i can hardly remember?
now, even the lot’s vacant
but that was the corner
that had the store
that is no more, except what’s in my head
or so my wife said
and looking around
i tend to believe her
cause it isn’t all here
like the market that was there
where is it now?
gone, i can’t see it
the pressed tin ceiling, wide wood floors,
tall shelves, the old doors,
a large revolving fan,
the man wiping his hands on his apron?
there locals gathered
to talk while they shopped
amid the chatter
stories were swapped
over the years changes were made,
so where did they go
the kids and the folks
that i can hardly remember?
now, even the lot’s vacant
but that was the corner
that had the store
that is no more, except what’s in my head
Monday, September 15, 2008
generations have said the same
enough, I’ve had enough
generations have said the same
more than likely it is true,
before you slap yourself on the back
look around
greed and war
the world has dummied down
we’re not alone
I know it is so , I remember
so do you
running the hundred faster
doesn’t raise the bar for intelligence
listen to our athletes speak,
watch TV with attention if you have no strength to turn it off,
how long before you are
text messaging before the accident
everybody’s talking
who will listen?
generations have said the same
more than likely it is true,
before you slap yourself on the back
look around
greed and war
the world has dummied down
we’re not alone
I know it is so , I remember
so do you
running the hundred faster
doesn’t raise the bar for intelligence
listen to our athletes speak,
watch TV with attention if you have no strength to turn it off,
how long before you are
text messaging before the accident
everybody’s talking
who will listen?
Sunday, September 14, 2008
USS PROVIDENCE
In 1969 while serving as a Navy Journalist on the staff of Admiral Bernard F. Roeder Commander First Fleet aboard his Flagship USS PROVIDENCE out of San Diego I wrote a US Navy published book of poetry complete with wonderful photographs taken by Photographer Lt. Marc Schuman. Although I have copies of the poetry, I carelessly lost my only copy of the book. The following is one bit of poetry that brings to mind memories of that time.
rolling
in all
weather
seas
go on
forever
rolling
in all
weather
seas
go on
forever
Labels:
sea
Saturday, September 13, 2008
my niece had a baby
my niece had a baby
well she still has it
it was born today
that’s how she got it,
the conventional way
now you know everything,
that’s as much as i know
except that she’s a girl.
now, will she smile
when she says great uncle?
well she still has it
it was born today
that’s how she got it,
the conventional way
now you know everything,
that’s as much as i know
except that she’s a girl.
now, will she smile
when she says great uncle?
Thursday, September 11, 2008
village evening report
checking from our front step I feel a slight breeze out of the South,
in the East an oval, vertical-egg moon hangs, with blurry Mars to the right,
a few houses away at the corner an occasional car passes,
slightly left of the moon, two hundred yards from my door, a barge dredges the river
with constant engine hum and a soft horn blast every few minutes
and that woeful musical note echoes along the river.
sixty-six degrees at nine this Thursday evening
with ten thousand crickets, then a distant passing train horn,
while inside our home the sound of clocks ticking
accompanys the muffled turning of the barge engine,
and we’ll read until bedtime.
that’s this evening’s small village report
in the East an oval, vertical-egg moon hangs, with blurry Mars to the right,
a few houses away at the corner an occasional car passes,
slightly left of the moon, two hundred yards from my door, a barge dredges the river
with constant engine hum and a soft horn blast every few minutes
and that woeful musical note echoes along the river.
sixty-six degrees at nine this Thursday evening
with ten thousand crickets, then a distant passing train horn,
while inside our home the sound of clocks ticking
accompanys the muffled turning of the barge engine,
and we’ll read until bedtime.
that’s this evening’s small village report
piano heartbreak
eighty-eight years
well alert and knowledgeable
she studied in Europe for over twenty with a student
of a student
of Franz Liszt
first a pianist in concert
now in lesson
as i sat
performing a bit of flourish i added
to “constellation” by Mendelssohn
“jack,” she smiled touching my hand
and causing it to pause,
“you cannot improve upon the masters”
and what a heartbreak that must have been
for her to leave the lights and the continent
to end up in our lame little town
instructing second rate kids like me,
young and reaching to change and grow,
leaning forward into the newness of the future
well alert and knowledgeable
she studied in Europe for over twenty with a student
of a student
of Franz Liszt
first a pianist in concert
now in lesson
as i sat
performing a bit of flourish i added
to “constellation” by Mendelssohn
“jack,” she smiled touching my hand
and causing it to pause,
“you cannot improve upon the masters”
and what a heartbreak that must have been
for her to leave the lights and the continent
to end up in our lame little town
instructing second rate kids like me,
young and reaching to change and grow,
leaning forward into the newness of the future
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
military scientists
to evaluate their possible use in defense applications
military scientists launched a battery of tests on the intelligence
of elephants, because everyone knows they are smart.
a final group of twelve animals selected from around the world
were flown to an undisclosed military base
for complete mental exams.
the elite dozen pachyderms were ushered into a classroom
where it took four days to get them seated at their desks
before testing could begin.
expenditures for the nearly month long project
were in excess of eleven million dollars
and a whole train load of peanuts.
the end result was, yes they were smart,
but could not shoot rifles
as they have no thumbs.
military scientists launched a battery of tests on the intelligence
of elephants, because everyone knows they are smart.
a final group of twelve animals selected from around the world
were flown to an undisclosed military base
for complete mental exams.
the elite dozen pachyderms were ushered into a classroom
where it took four days to get them seated at their desks
before testing could begin.
expenditures for the nearly month long project
were in excess of eleven million dollars
and a whole train load of peanuts.
the end result was, yes they were smart,
but could not shoot rifles
as they have no thumbs.
Labels:
practically science
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
heaven's command
the crunching of empty freight train cars
backing into each other,
with no metal tearing, just boom, boom, ka-boom
was thirty-five liters of leftover August thunder
poised to tumble, then poured out at dawn,
over my head onto the bed,
in gusts of twisting dry wind without rain
drenching with
just noise this time
for all it shouted,
bidding wake up,
get going,
a slap across the cheek
good morning
backing into each other,
with no metal tearing, just boom, boom, ka-boom
was thirty-five liters of leftover August thunder
poised to tumble, then poured out at dawn,
over my head onto the bed,
in gusts of twisting dry wind without rain
drenching with
just noise this time
for all it shouted,
bidding wake up,
get going,
a slap across the cheek
good morning
Monday, September 08, 2008
long ago old faces
old faces in the echo bar
wept and laughed
all worn, wrinkled and tainted
looking into quarter beers on tap
or blended whiskey and water
sons and daughters
making visions for each other
about where they used to be
their living is courageous
their strokes are bold
paint them with thick lines
and somber colors
or what have you
they won’t mind
wept and laughed
all worn, wrinkled and tainted
looking into quarter beers on tap
or blended whiskey and water
sons and daughters
making visions for each other
about where they used to be
their living is courageous
their strokes are bold
paint them with thick lines
and somber colors
or what have you
they won’t mind
Sunday, September 07, 2008
writers beware, you hear!
no email submissions accepted
don’t even try, Fancy Pants
cause if we get one from you
a guy will drive slowly around and round where you live
sunk way down in the vehicle
only the top of his head visible
wearing dark glasses and a hat pulled low
yeah, kind ‘a like the Blues Brothers
only not funny and extremely ugly,
then we’ll think poorly of you all day and night
so forget about making email submissions
we’d rather chop a tree, use paper, stamps and mail carriers,
we’ll get into the Twenty-First Century
when you can wipe your butt digitally,
when we damn well feel like it
and not a year before
bring back the pony express!
and use glue often!
don’t even try, Fancy Pants
cause if we get one from you
a guy will drive slowly around and round where you live
sunk way down in the vehicle
only the top of his head visible
wearing dark glasses and a hat pulled low
yeah, kind ‘a like the Blues Brothers
only not funny and extremely ugly,
then we’ll think poorly of you all day and night
so forget about making email submissions
we’d rather chop a tree, use paper, stamps and mail carriers,
we’ll get into the Twenty-First Century
when you can wipe your butt digitally,
when we damn well feel like it
and not a year before
bring back the pony express!
and use glue often!
Saturday, September 06, 2008
witnesses
we saw two birds
driving down the road
well, we were driving
they were flying,
I said two crows, she said one
and a spotted red tail hawk,
witnesses
see what they can ,
see what they did
say what they see
but don’t always see as it was
driving down the road
well, we were driving
they were flying,
I said two crows, she said one
and a spotted red tail hawk,
witnesses
see what they can ,
see what they did
say what they see
but don’t always see as it was
Friday, September 05, 2008
a child of less than two
a child of less than two
and so attentive
that i gave his hand a pencil
to observe how inventive
the golden boy really was
kneeling on the chair
at our table
he pulled the paper under hand
and make it stable
looking me deep
in the eye
i sensed his mind unable
to say the thoughts
i knew he was thinking
then with a swift stroke
he made a mark at random
just a line
not definite or clear
without so much as looking
it seemed to me he knew
that there was no need
to continue the line he drew
and then we both were
somehow together in our way
he knew, and i too, that he
would learn to draw some other day
and so attentive
that i gave his hand a pencil
to observe how inventive
the golden boy really was
kneeling on the chair
at our table
he pulled the paper under hand
and make it stable
looking me deep
in the eye
i sensed his mind unable
to say the thoughts
i knew he was thinking
then with a swift stroke
he made a mark at random
just a line
not definite or clear
without so much as looking
it seemed to me he knew
that there was no need
to continue the line he drew
and then we both were
somehow together in our way
he knew, and i too, that he
would learn to draw some other day
Thursday, September 04, 2008
on the tracks
it’s not easy to tell, but it happened
when I was growing up in our village
there was a most likable kid everyone admired
his dad was a well liked preacher, and passed away,
one night on the kids birthday
the town was shocked to learn
the boy’s mom knelt down on the railroad tracks
before a train, and let it take her life
the tragedy deeply saddened all
now many years later i had returned to the town
never saw him around, but heard he was still was there
leaving in his same family home,
our house now was right around the corner,
he was a well liked kid when i knew him
though i never looked him up, i thought of him
and hoped to see him around
then one day i heard that the night before
the eve of his birthday
fifty years later to the day
when he knelt down
on the same spot on the tracks
where his mother died
and let a train take his life,
we don’t see on the outside
what one bares on the inside
when I was growing up in our village
there was a most likable kid everyone admired
his dad was a well liked preacher, and passed away,
one night on the kids birthday
the town was shocked to learn
the boy’s mom knelt down on the railroad tracks
before a train, and let it take her life
the tragedy deeply saddened all
now many years later i had returned to the town
never saw him around, but heard he was still was there
leaving in his same family home,
our house now was right around the corner,
he was a well liked kid when i knew him
though i never looked him up, i thought of him
and hoped to see him around
then one day i heard that the night before
the eve of his birthday
fifty years later to the day
when he knelt down
on the same spot on the tracks
where his mother died
and let a train take his life,
we don’t see on the outside
what one bares on the inside
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
green & alone or hard over stone
of two places I live
both places give
light, and to paint
oh, it is the light
Ohio, place of one home
same latitude north as Rome
so the light is the same
every day, every season
I choose light with green,
secluded and serene
or life crowded and quick
over stone and old brick
both places give
light, and to paint
oh, it is the light
Ohio, place of one home
same latitude north as Rome
so the light is the same
every day, every season
I choose light with green,
secluded and serene
or life crowded and quick
over stone and old brick
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
poetry al fresco
plant the seed
when weather’s fair
for poetry al fresco
under shade trees in nature,
taking inspiration
with someone dear
on a soft summer blanket
a wine glass to your lip
as sweetly you drank it,
slowly you sip
softly you touch
again, slowly you sip
and share warm embrace,
now, don’t drink too much
the wild scent of an apple
as sweetly you nibble
from the hand of the one who is dear
from the dear one at hand
from the one headed deer
deer?
hey, that’s a deer!
There’s a whole flock of ‘em!
grab the basket, let’s get out of here!
when weather’s fair
for poetry al fresco
under shade trees in nature,
taking inspiration
with someone dear
on a soft summer blanket
a wine glass to your lip
as sweetly you drank it,
slowly you sip
softly you touch
again, slowly you sip
and share warm embrace,
now, don’t drink too much
the wild scent of an apple
as sweetly you nibble
from the hand of the one who is dear
from the dear one at hand
from the one headed deer
deer?
hey, that’s a deer!
There’s a whole flock of ‘em!
grab the basket, let’s get out of here!
Monday, September 01, 2008
my garden
my garden today was weed crowded,
a task undone far too long
so that work today, was my purpose
the labor in sun was my song
begin where it needs it the most
do all that you possible can
after a rest on completion,
move forward, and do it again
each part of life is in motion
moving ahead in the flow
your thoughts are merely a notion,
love doing, and not what you know
a task undone far too long
so that work today, was my purpose
the labor in sun was my song
begin where it needs it the most
do all that you possible can
after a rest on completion,
move forward, and do it again
each part of life is in motion
moving ahead in the flow
your thoughts are merely a notion,
love doing, and not what you know
Labels:
poems of nature
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
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
Labels:
sea
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
Sunday, August 24, 2008
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
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
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
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
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Old Words
old words
once spoken
lie in a box
unbroken by the years
they have slept
when in a while
ever seldom
i peer inside to
gather up a sheet
the random ink again
forms recognizable thoughts
that long time past were
a part of me
they now awake a sleeping spot
inside, and as i am looking
it returns to fill me
i feel the warmth
and hear the laughter
and lightly drift
away...
but just as quickly
i close the lid
recover the box and
the sheets i’ve hid
for time has past me
in layers deep
and thoughts in the box
will once again sleep
once spoken
lie in a box
unbroken by the years
they have slept
when in a while
ever seldom
i peer inside to
gather up a sheet
the random ink again
forms recognizable thoughts
that long time past were
a part of me
they now awake a sleeping spot
inside, and as i am looking
it returns to fill me
i feel the warmth
and hear the laughter
and lightly drift
away...
but just as quickly
i close the lid
recover the box and
the sheets i’ve hid
for time has past me
in layers deep
and thoughts in the box
will once again sleep
Friday, August 22, 2008
Mojave
beyond city walls
ancient and still
a low desert calls
“dare come, if you will
i’m old and i kill
i rot with dry heat
my winds can chill
my winds can beat”
on small tracks from near
leading to nowhere
the endless is here
timeless, i stare
yet this wonder grows
stretching on scorched white sand,
at dusk the winds blow
to torment the land
sun rays cannot keep
amber yields to blue
and as the blue goes deep
evening again lives new
with wind softly faded
a hush rises thick
the desert is shaded
darkness runs quick
cacti and joshua trees
scorpion and lizard
dry without breeze
stars are a blizzard
the moon becomes lamp
probing its light
moving over the camp
watching eyes in the night
all silence broke
in one animal shout
then spirits awoke
to wander about
the mystic dark hours
are hiding a treasure
secrets and powers
in sands beyond measure
a sky jewel gleamed
across the desert floor
the morning, it seemed,
had bolted the door
“i’m secret to the ancients,
i’m caretaker to the ages,
beauty and patience
are words for my pages”
ancient and still
a low desert calls
“dare come, if you will
i’m old and i kill
i rot with dry heat
my winds can chill
my winds can beat”
on small tracks from near
leading to nowhere
the endless is here
timeless, i stare
yet this wonder grows
stretching on scorched white sand,
at dusk the winds blow
to torment the land
sun rays cannot keep
amber yields to blue
and as the blue goes deep
evening again lives new
with wind softly faded
a hush rises thick
the desert is shaded
darkness runs quick
cacti and joshua trees
scorpion and lizard
dry without breeze
stars are a blizzard
the moon becomes lamp
probing its light
moving over the camp
watching eyes in the night
all silence broke
in one animal shout
then spirits awoke
to wander about
the mystic dark hours
are hiding a treasure
secrets and powers
in sands beyond measure
a sky jewel gleamed
across the desert floor
the morning, it seemed,
had bolted the door
“i’m secret to the ancients,
i’m caretaker to the ages,
beauty and patience
are words for my pages”
Thursday, August 21, 2008
long hypnotic waves in motion
long hypnotic waves in motion
children play, birds will run
loving my Pacific ocean
at the shore, in the sun
walking through the long deep pull
reaching water to my thighs
crashing, breaking under seagulls
white wings soaring, summer skies
the water blue, and sand that’s white
run together beyond my sight
holding one against the other
one is son, one is daughter
here’s a balance for the world
each upholds the others space
one is still, one is swirled
both entwined in cosmic pace
children play, birds will run
loving my Pacific ocean
at the shore, in the sun
walking through the long deep pull
reaching water to my thighs
crashing, breaking under seagulls
white wings soaring, summer skies
the water blue, and sand that’s white
run together beyond my sight
holding one against the other
one is son, one is daughter
here’s a balance for the world
each upholds the others space
one is still, one is swirled
both entwined in cosmic pace
Labels:
favorites
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
age
You feel, act, look, sleep,
move, talk, dress and think
just like a star.
But seriously now,
if you didn’t know when you were born
what age would you think you are?
move, talk, dress and think
just like a star.
But seriously now,
if you didn’t know when you were born
what age would you think you are?
after writing a while
talked to my wife
was sitting when i pointed
and meant to say ceiling
instead i said sky
of course i know why
a simple reason
like thistles and rabbits
thrive with old habits
it’s most likely, you see,
working with poetry
does that to me
talked to my wife
was sitting when i pointed
and meant to say ceiling
instead i said sky
of course i know why
a simple reason
like thistles and rabbits
thrive with old habits
it’s most likely, you see,
working with poetry
does that to me
Labels:
poems on poetry
Monday, August 18, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
meager thanks
for the first thought and the last dot of light
for the rain and the grain turned from the earth
for the intelligible speech, the perceptible sound and the colored sight
for the lasting sleep, the multifaceted life and the miracle of birth
for the total that has been set forward
for the mystery of what lies hidden
for the wisdom yet to be heard
for the sum of all that is written
for the total beginning
for the complete end
for all that is given
our meager thanks we lend
for the rain and the grain turned from the earth
for the intelligible speech, the perceptible sound and the colored sight
for the lasting sleep, the multifaceted life and the miracle of birth
for the total that has been set forward
for the mystery of what lies hidden
for the wisdom yet to be heard
for the sum of all that is written
for the total beginning
for the complete end
for all that is given
our meager thanks we lend
Labels:
favorites
Saturday, August 16, 2008
As Leamington Feels
our first time on the water since
ocean crossing on Isadora with Captain Z.
a small car ferry took us 27 miles
across glassy, flat Lake Erie
to Leamington, Ontario for the Tomato Festival
signs advertised Mexican, Mennonite or Chinese food
walking the town we entered the culture center
oddly, a building entrance that reminded us
of the center in Porto, Portugolo
inside was a small Heinz museum display
honoring the company begun in 1875,
which came here in 1909
ke-tsiap a spicy pickled fish condiment
of 17th century China,
keh-tsiap in Cantonese, may be
the origin of the name,
a lesser and unlikely possibility
like ford naming the Edsel after his son
but Heintz never had a daughter named Ketchup
we went to a place called “Restorante Mexican”
for terrible food, not easy to do,
but the mexicana owner had absolutely no ability to cook
wasn't people friendly, the place was up for sale
we missed that indicator
driving behind a black pickup with
a beige propeller on the back bumper
the center bolt was loose so the two blades hung straight down,
it was like following a well-hung barn animal
we tried a diner that reminded us of John Belushi
and a sketch on Saturday Night Live,
whatever the customers wanted they were talked into
a cheeseburger and a Pepsi,
this diner served only tacos and soft drinks
but very, very good
chicken or beef, soft drink or water
in the park the eve before the festival
a gifted young singer sang through his nose,
what a shame, he had great tone and musical phrasing
and could be truly great with help
the morning of the tomato parade our time was up
for this most interesting change of pace,
boarded the ferry this sunny warm day
and came back tired
ocean crossing on Isadora with Captain Z.
a small car ferry took us 27 miles
across glassy, flat Lake Erie
to Leamington, Ontario for the Tomato Festival
signs advertised Mexican, Mennonite or Chinese food
walking the town we entered the culture center
oddly, a building entrance that reminded us
of the center in Porto, Portugolo
inside was a small Heinz museum display
honoring the company begun in 1875,
which came here in 1909
ke-tsiap a spicy pickled fish condiment
of 17th century China,
keh-tsiap in Cantonese, may be
the origin of the name,
a lesser and unlikely possibility
like ford naming the Edsel after his son
but Heintz never had a daughter named Ketchup
we went to a place called “Restorante Mexican”
for terrible food, not easy to do,
but the mexicana owner had absolutely no ability to cook
wasn't people friendly, the place was up for sale
we missed that indicator
driving behind a black pickup with
a beige propeller on the back bumper
the center bolt was loose so the two blades hung straight down,
it was like following a well-hung barn animal
we tried a diner that reminded us of John Belushi
and a sketch on Saturday Night Live,
whatever the customers wanted they were talked into
a cheeseburger and a Pepsi,
this diner served only tacos and soft drinks
but very, very good
chicken or beef, soft drink or water
in the park the eve before the festival
a gifted young singer sang through his nose,
what a shame, he had great tone and musical phrasing
and could be truly great with help
the morning of the tomato parade our time was up
for this most interesting change of pace,
boarded the ferry this sunny warm day
and came back tired
Friday, August 15, 2008
Nouvelle cliff
in a modern open commercial space with a lot of glass
there were some escalator things,
large open boxes, waist high,
moving up and down, one floor to the next
at the top of one floor looking around
not knowing if i’m going up or down,
i don’t remember,
it wasn’t important
looking to my right, i am on
the side of a soaring flat stone cliff
with a length of rope nearly the diameter of my wrist,
i needed to tie a bowline to climb safely,
it was almost my turn, i was going next,
looking up about a half mile the others
were hanging under an overhang
three or four in a line, climbing up
then M’s there, and wants to climb too,
that strikes me as odd, i know she doesn’t like heights,
and right now it doesn’t appeal much to me either,
that’s when the neighbor's dog barked and i woke up
there were some escalator things,
large open boxes, waist high,
moving up and down, one floor to the next
at the top of one floor looking around
not knowing if i’m going up or down,
i don’t remember,
it wasn’t important
looking to my right, i am on
the side of a soaring flat stone cliff
with a length of rope nearly the diameter of my wrist,
i needed to tie a bowline to climb safely,
it was almost my turn, i was going next,
looking up about a half mile the others
were hanging under an overhang
three or four in a line, climbing up
then M’s there, and wants to climb too,
that strikes me as odd, i know she doesn’t like heights,
and right now it doesn’t appeal much to me either,
that’s when the neighbor's dog barked and i woke up
County Fair
we saw the youngsters
showing their sheep
a slight girl of ten, ready
to walk her sheep into the ring,
was near tears,
holding them back somehow
is she okay?
her mother answered,
said in the first round of the showing
the 220 pound sheep made a turn, knocked her down
and stepped on the 90 pound girl
i looked in the eyes of the stiff-lipped girl,
as she readied to go back in the ring
to show her animal a second time,
she seemed tense, sad, maybe somewhat worried,
but determined to finish the thing
showing their sheep
a slight girl of ten, ready
to walk her sheep into the ring,
was near tears,
holding them back somehow
is she okay?
her mother answered,
said in the first round of the showing
the 220 pound sheep made a turn, knocked her down
and stepped on the 90 pound girl
i looked in the eyes of the stiff-lipped girl,
as she readied to go back in the ring
to show her animal a second time,
she seemed tense, sad, maybe somewhat worried,
but determined to finish the thing
Thursday, August 14, 2008
frog statues
i was idle-knocking around when
M. called me out to the pond
i haven’t seen them for days
where are they? she pointed
on rocks at opposite ends they sat,
M. sprayed one with a hose, it didn’t blink
we croaked to get them started, herb, herb, errb
they remained gothic frozen in stony silence
hey, here they are here, there i mean,
right there in the pond, we saw them,
but play time is over for this year.
so long for now, Herb, croak with you later
M. called me out to the pond
i haven’t seen them for days
where are they? she pointed
on rocks at opposite ends they sat,
M. sprayed one with a hose, it didn’t blink
we croaked to get them started, herb, herb, errb
they remained gothic frozen in stony silence
hey, here they are here, there i mean,
right there in the pond, we saw them,
but play time is over for this year.
so long for now, Herb, croak with you later
Labels:
poems with frogs
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
computer repair
at the shop a couple of techies don't repair
one computer at a time
they work on five or six
with others waiting
. . . phone calls
interruptions
then back to another one
scan complete
run the scan again
delivery of parts at the door
pull out the defects
order the correct part
this should be reformatted
while the scan is running look at that one
one more carried out the door
clean it out, it runs slow
can you do it now please?
this one is ready, take another
make it lean and keen
hey, look at this!
you have to find the symptoms
then the problem, and cure it
run it until it's smooth as a pond
without a ripple
simple
nice dimple
oh, i lost my place,
what a cyberspace!
one computer at a time
they work on five or six
with others waiting
. . . phone calls
interruptions
then back to another one
scan complete
run the scan again
delivery of parts at the door
pull out the defects
order the correct part
this should be reformatted
while the scan is running look at that one
one more carried out the door
clean it out, it runs slow
can you do it now please?
this one is ready, take another
make it lean and keen
hey, look at this!
you have to find the symptoms
then the problem, and cure it
run it until it's smooth as a pond
without a ripple
simple
nice dimple
oh, i lost my place,
what a cyberspace!
Green River Ordinance
i was fishin’ by the river
with a little bit o’ liver
catchin’ catfish
catchin’ catfish
i heard this clatter down the line
and i turned in time
to see a peddler
sellin’ handles
well, there was nothin’ attached,
like a door to its latch
he’s just tottin’ ‘em in a sack...
the handles
he asked, as in a wish
for a look at my fish,
and the sack in which i’d
tote ‘em
i said it’s this here gunny
an’ he laughed and said “it’s funny”
that i’d tote that fish sack home
without no handle
he said he’d met a thousand kings
walked the world in a thousand rings
but never saw a sack
without no handle
he said he’d help a fellow man
then placed an object in my hand...
a handle
i took the handle an’ he was on his way
i got a fine bargain, don’t mind to say
and in exchange he’s just one wish
imagine...
only my lowly sack o’ fish
with a little bit o’ liver
catchin’ catfish
catchin’ catfish
i heard this clatter down the line
and i turned in time
to see a peddler
sellin’ handles
well, there was nothin’ attached,
like a door to its latch
he’s just tottin’ ‘em in a sack...
the handles
he asked, as in a wish
for a look at my fish,
and the sack in which i’d
tote ‘em
i said it’s this here gunny
an’ he laughed and said “it’s funny”
that i’d tote that fish sack home
without no handle
he said he’d met a thousand kings
walked the world in a thousand rings
but never saw a sack
without no handle
he said he’d help a fellow man
then placed an object in my hand...
a handle
i took the handle an’ he was on his way
i got a fine bargain, don’t mind to say
and in exchange he’s just one wish
imagine...
only my lowly sack o’ fish
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
truck driver
for my driver friend that i don’t know
and isn’t that the way to go?
have friends you can’t see
like when i was a kid Guyle was mine,
Gerpthee was my cousins friend
i mention that because the name is so stupid
our whole family used to laugh at that one
i never asked what it did to my cousin
that her mom used to lead the laughter
but this is about the driver that lives up north,
now i respect that Dylan song, the girl from the north country
and everybody needs a song
don’t get me wrong
they’re fun to kick around your head
carry with you
until you’re dead
then you quit with it, maybe
or maybe you take it with you
so this truck driver puts me
in touch with the size of this world
cause i’m about on the other side of it
in ways other than distance
even from here
it’s the way she writes it
and i’m happy she can
put it out there to share
with all of us
cause it appears we are all in this together
bob dylan 1963
If you're traveling in the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline
Remember me to one who lives there
For she was once a true love of mine.
Well, if you go when the snowflakes storm
When the rivers freeze and summer ends
Please see for me if she's wearing a coat so warm
To keep her from the howlin' winds.
Please see from me if her hair hanging down
If it curls and flows all down her breast
Please see from me if her hair hanging down
That's the way I remember her best.
Well, if you're traveling in the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline
Please say hello to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine.
and isn’t that the way to go?
have friends you can’t see
like when i was a kid Guyle was mine,
Gerpthee was my cousins friend
i mention that because the name is so stupid
our whole family used to laugh at that one
i never asked what it did to my cousin
that her mom used to lead the laughter
but this is about the driver that lives up north,
now i respect that Dylan song, the girl from the north country
and everybody needs a song
don’t get me wrong
they’re fun to kick around your head
carry with you
until you’re dead
then you quit with it, maybe
or maybe you take it with you
so this truck driver puts me
in touch with the size of this world
cause i’m about on the other side of it
in ways other than distance
even from here
it’s the way she writes it
and i’m happy she can
put it out there to share
with all of us
cause it appears we are all in this together
bob dylan 1963
If you're traveling in the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline
Remember me to one who lives there
For she was once a true love of mine.
Well, if you go when the snowflakes storm
When the rivers freeze and summer ends
Please see for me if she's wearing a coat so warm
To keep her from the howlin' winds.
Please see from me if her hair hanging down
If it curls and flows all down her breast
Please see from me if her hair hanging down
That's the way I remember her best.
Well, if you're traveling in the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline
Please say hello to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine.
tarnation
August brought a change, it did
the frogs kept out of range, or hid
like all the years before
there comes a time it seems,
they are no more
hidden, slippery
out there hiding
not sitting and sunning as before
silent, evermore
it was friendly time around July
a most peaceful month for all
a net was set to discourage the heron
with plenty of room for others to come and go
our green friends’d croak when we came around
and we croaked back, a regular give and take
they’d sun with us there
we’d sit
they’d stare
and i miss them like the rain
steaming through on hot winds in July
now the weather’s still
humid and cloudy, our August sky
there are reasons
to call them seasons
on them we can rely
the frogs kept out of range, or hid
like all the years before
there comes a time it seems,
they are no more
hidden, slippery
out there hiding
not sitting and sunning as before
silent, evermore
it was friendly time around July
a most peaceful month for all
a net was set to discourage the heron
with plenty of room for others to come and go
our green friends’d croak when we came around
and we croaked back, a regular give and take
they’d sun with us there
we’d sit
they’d stare
and i miss them like the rain
steaming through on hot winds in July
now the weather’s still
humid and cloudy, our August sky
there are reasons
to call them seasons
on them we can rely
Labels:
poems with frogs
Trashmen
each week i see those lads
and know they should earn more
for they certainly do the work
and deserve a golden parachute
more than most CEO's ever will
here they come now,
i don’t know how those boys
can heft those trashcans hour after hour,
and dump them in the truck, one after another,
all the way down the street, all over town
what a mess we’d all be in
if we didn’t have them,
and no one ever tips their hats to them,
thank God for their service,
they deserve our honor
and know they should earn more
for they certainly do the work
and deserve a golden parachute
more than most CEO's ever will
here they come now,
i don’t know how those boys
can heft those trashcans hour after hour,
and dump them in the truck, one after another,
all the way down the street, all over town
what a mess we’d all be in
if we didn’t have them,
and no one ever tips their hats to them,
thank God for their service,
they deserve our honor
Monday, August 11, 2008
some august afternoon
some august afternoon
the great ember rolled
into evenings ensuing blanket
that flanks the sky's end, west
casting shadows in my lemonade
nodding the okay for a light wind
to bring on the cut-grass scent
three or four crickets
rabbits, squirrels and a toad
a pale white moon
blackening trees
star one, two, three
then countless
and the sound of partially melted
ice cubes knocking
as i tip my glass
to the night
the great ember rolled
into evenings ensuing blanket
that flanks the sky's end, west
casting shadows in my lemonade
nodding the okay for a light wind
to bring on the cut-grass scent
three or four crickets
rabbits, squirrels and a toad
a pale white moon
blackening trees
star one, two, three
then countless
and the sound of partially melted
ice cubes knocking
as i tip my glass
to the night
Labels:
favorites
Sunday, August 10, 2008
kiss a butterfly
M. drove us to Cleveland
for parts of the best of it,
first stop Little Italy
an outdoor sit down coffee and biscotti,
after a month of searing heat
the temperature falls, M’s wearing long pants
and i’m the only guy in northern ohio
in shorts and sandals
then to the wall glassed botanical garden
for a bit of Madagascar in one cube,
Costa Rica and thousands of butterflies on the other,
outside gardens remarkably done,
each of six in different themes
next, downtown to the Renaissance hotel
a walk through the expansive adjacent mall
for looking and a slice of bad pizza,
in the public square, the sculpted monument
for county civil war fallen, completed in 1895,
years before i heard that
Francis X. Bushman the silent film star posed
for a statue in the square, we asked, searched,
yet couldn’t find it
saw the House of Blues where
the Captain goes when he’s in town,
checked out the sushi restaurant
where we thought we’d go for supper.
alas, it’s fast food.
during supper in the tourist zone nearby
at a century old building
M. mentioned that she charged the batteries,
although we forgot to use it,
the camera remained in the trunk of the car
that night we watched the opening of the Beijing Olympics
on TV in our hotel room, that's why we came
we have no TV at home.
the next morning we marked
our day sojourn to the city complete and well done.
maybe i’m just a romantic
and perhaps what the little kid in the botanical garden
really said to his friend was, “catch a butterfly”
for parts of the best of it,
first stop Little Italy
an outdoor sit down coffee and biscotti,
after a month of searing heat
the temperature falls, M’s wearing long pants
and i’m the only guy in northern ohio
in shorts and sandals
then to the wall glassed botanical garden
for a bit of Madagascar in one cube,
Costa Rica and thousands of butterflies on the other,
outside gardens remarkably done,
each of six in different themes
next, downtown to the Renaissance hotel
a walk through the expansive adjacent mall
for looking and a slice of bad pizza,
in the public square, the sculpted monument
for county civil war fallen, completed in 1895,
years before i heard that
Francis X. Bushman the silent film star posed
for a statue in the square, we asked, searched,
yet couldn’t find it
saw the House of Blues where
the Captain goes when he’s in town,
checked out the sushi restaurant
where we thought we’d go for supper.
alas, it’s fast food.
during supper in the tourist zone nearby
at a century old building
M. mentioned that she charged the batteries,
although we forgot to use it,
the camera remained in the trunk of the car
that night we watched the opening of the Beijing Olympics
on TV in our hotel room, that's why we came
we have no TV at home.
the next morning we marked
our day sojourn to the city complete and well done.
maybe i’m just a romantic
and perhaps what the little kid in the botanical garden
really said to his friend was, “catch a butterfly”
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Friday, August 08, 2008
be creative
for the future of mankind,
for the children,
no need to bust a gut to be the utmost
but, when you bake a dozen cookies
squinch one or two up a bit
take a tiny chance, add a dash of color,
a nick against redundancy
from your heart
you can feel the way,
we don't have to be
so tight in a line
Noah built a whole damn ark
you can do a little something
everyday,
it's for the world
for the children,
no need to bust a gut to be the utmost
but, when you bake a dozen cookies
squinch one or two up a bit
take a tiny chance, add a dash of color,
a nick against redundancy
from your heart
you can feel the way,
we don't have to be
so tight in a line
Noah built a whole damn ark
you can do a little something
everyday,
it's for the world
Labels:
poems of life
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Running Dog
my dog that ran away knew what he was doing
that’s why i didn’t go after him.
the cats that stay know where the handouts are
and the birds sing, and the postman comes around.
Neighbor kids cross the front lawn to and
from school. small airplanes make noise
when they pass over. my yard is dry, needs rain
the house is quiet, and neat, with little in it
i have a plant room for quiet meditation
and a typewriter for verbal contemplation
the piano awaits my next touch.
no tv, and the radio isn’t used much.
the shelves are not stocked, i have running water,
a washer and dryer that work once a week,
and my garden that reluctantly surrenders vegetables.
some outdoor flowers, strawberries and a small lemon tree
wind chimes on the patio, empty chairs, space to be
and i’ll moan into yesterdays or tomorrow
i’ll tip wine sublime, and smoke in sorrow
my heart will leap, my head will spin
the phone will ring, again and again
i’ll read some of the letters but won’t write back
perhaps tomorrow, for now, let them stack
three shirts, three pants, some boots and shoes
the rest are rags, no good to use
i go out for work, and the money comes in
i’ve lost some weight, but still not thin
and the laughing brown dog knew what he was doing
he set out to be the best dog around
he left to clean the clock of every cat in town
he could jump the fence, bark the bird and lick the dish
four legs to run, ears to flap, eyes to see, tail to wag
and he chased his tail
right out the front door
right up the street
running for all he can get
running for his life
and i may type by an open window
but i never looked up for him again
not once did i wait
before he left he let me know what was up for him
and i let him know he could run
and i’ll wait inside typing, outside working
back and forth with cups of unsweetened tea
another shower, a song from the piano
something to hum and a searching, walking mantra
about “let’s see, let’s see” and i look for it
while this goes on, i hang out with it
i drink what’s going on, eating today, singing now
pulling it up, and laying it out there
putting it down into words, cleaning it up
tightening it up, cutting it short and letting it run
working it over, taking it in, seeing what goes on
then playing the rinky-tink roll on the pi-ano
hit it. let it flow and go and blow
and the faster i go, the slower it is
and the slower i am the more that gets here
and it keeps on coming out
more from the mailman, more on the phone
more at work and with friends
it keeps on and on a coming in the window
rising with the sun
setting on the end of my bed
playing with my head
and i stand up to fight with it
and we roll on the floor
i grab my chest and gasp last breath
then rise to heaven where saint peter
takes a swing at me and i knock him on his ass
and he tries to tell me to go to hell
so i push my way in and when god sees me
he isn’t pissed at all
we sit down over pizza and tell dirty jokes
mine are better than his, and he knows it!
he introduces me to his old lady
she’s ten million years old but still foxy
and she wants to ball me, but i’m chicken
god and i shake hands and i split
back to my window to see if he can make it rain
i don’t hold my breath
i make a sandwich and drink some wine
that’s why i didn’t go after him.
the cats that stay know where the handouts are
and the birds sing, and the postman comes around.
Neighbor kids cross the front lawn to and
from school. small airplanes make noise
when they pass over. my yard is dry, needs rain
the house is quiet, and neat, with little in it
i have a plant room for quiet meditation
and a typewriter for verbal contemplation
the piano awaits my next touch.
no tv, and the radio isn’t used much.
the shelves are not stocked, i have running water,
a washer and dryer that work once a week,
and my garden that reluctantly surrenders vegetables.
some outdoor flowers, strawberries and a small lemon tree
wind chimes on the patio, empty chairs, space to be
and i’ll moan into yesterdays or tomorrow
i’ll tip wine sublime, and smoke in sorrow
my heart will leap, my head will spin
the phone will ring, again and again
i’ll read some of the letters but won’t write back
perhaps tomorrow, for now, let them stack
three shirts, three pants, some boots and shoes
the rest are rags, no good to use
i go out for work, and the money comes in
i’ve lost some weight, but still not thin
and the laughing brown dog knew what he was doing
he set out to be the best dog around
he left to clean the clock of every cat in town
he could jump the fence, bark the bird and lick the dish
four legs to run, ears to flap, eyes to see, tail to wag
and he chased his tail
right out the front door
right up the street
running for all he can get
running for his life
and i may type by an open window
but i never looked up for him again
not once did i wait
before he left he let me know what was up for him
and i let him know he could run
and i’ll wait inside typing, outside working
back and forth with cups of unsweetened tea
another shower, a song from the piano
something to hum and a searching, walking mantra
about “let’s see, let’s see” and i look for it
while this goes on, i hang out with it
i drink what’s going on, eating today, singing now
pulling it up, and laying it out there
putting it down into words, cleaning it up
tightening it up, cutting it short and letting it run
working it over, taking it in, seeing what goes on
then playing the rinky-tink roll on the pi-ano
hit it. let it flow and go and blow
and the faster i go, the slower it is
and the slower i am the more that gets here
and it keeps on coming out
more from the mailman, more on the phone
more at work and with friends
it keeps on and on a coming in the window
rising with the sun
setting on the end of my bed
playing with my head
and i stand up to fight with it
and we roll on the floor
i grab my chest and gasp last breath
then rise to heaven where saint peter
takes a swing at me and i knock him on his ass
and he tries to tell me to go to hell
so i push my way in and when god sees me
he isn’t pissed at all
we sit down over pizza and tell dirty jokes
mine are better than his, and he knows it!
he introduces me to his old lady
she’s ten million years old but still foxy
and she wants to ball me, but i’m chicken
god and i shake hands and i split
back to my window to see if he can make it rain
i don’t hold my breath
i make a sandwich and drink some wine
Labels:
favorites
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
a lifetime forever
to live a lifetime forever
on a mountain under eternal noon sun
with sweet wine touching lips that touch mine
where the omnipresent fragrance of soft flowers
and gentle green
caress thoughts
and cradle in your mind mellow notions
the only sound being
two hearts playing
the softest lullaby in creation
on a mountain under eternal noon sun
with sweet wine touching lips that touch mine
where the omnipresent fragrance of soft flowers
and gentle green
caress thoughts
and cradle in your mind mellow notions
the only sound being
two hearts playing
the softest lullaby in creation
Labels:
favorites
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
self portraits
As you may know, if you click on my “profile” on this blog it will lead you to my art blog.
The purpose of this note is to clarify why artists do self portraits and so many of them. Artists do self portraits because a model in the mirror has more clarity, depth, and is a more life-like subject than working from a still photo. Photos, digitally, mechanically or chemically reproduced are essentially flat. While live models have true color and subtle light qualities, and even movement that make subtle gradations of shade and hue apparent, and there is the visible space around the model. The space around a subject sends signals to the artist. The background is not black, void of color, but a combination of grays that can be rendered to give depth.
There are great photos of people, and that is a wonderful art in itself, but for an artist who paints or draws, a live model is working from life itself, providing a wider range of opportunity for interpretation. Technically, mirrors have a slight cast of green or bluish-green color from the reflection in glass, but it is close enough for the artist to practice. And, a self portrait is, overall, practice.
The mirror is the quickest way for an artist to find a model when he’s ready to work, any hour, any time.
The purpose of this note is to clarify why artists do self portraits and so many of them. Artists do self portraits because a model in the mirror has more clarity, depth, and is a more life-like subject than working from a still photo. Photos, digitally, mechanically or chemically reproduced are essentially flat. While live models have true color and subtle light qualities, and even movement that make subtle gradations of shade and hue apparent, and there is the visible space around the model. The space around a subject sends signals to the artist. The background is not black, void of color, but a combination of grays that can be rendered to give depth.
There are great photos of people, and that is a wonderful art in itself, but for an artist who paints or draws, a live model is working from life itself, providing a wider range of opportunity for interpretation. Technically, mirrors have a slight cast of green or bluish-green color from the reflection in glass, but it is close enough for the artist to practice. And, a self portrait is, overall, practice.
The mirror is the quickest way for an artist to find a model when he’s ready to work, any hour, any time.
frogs got the change
a mild weather variance
on drifting wafts of breeze
stirring heavy warm air
like a long wooden paddle
in a cauldron of soup
enough so you notice
our frogs got the change
felt it before i did and took action
altered their habits
maybe one is gone
i'm still figuring it out
it could be the result of
the beginning of August
not sitting out like before
no croak when we come by
they're lying low,
we know,
but not why
on drifting wafts of breeze
stirring heavy warm air
like a long wooden paddle
in a cauldron of soup
enough so you notice
our frogs got the change
felt it before i did and took action
altered their habits
maybe one is gone
i'm still figuring it out
it could be the result of
the beginning of August
not sitting out like before
no croak when we come by
they're lying low,
we know,
but not why
Labels:
poems with frogs
Monday, August 04, 2008
Alexander Solzhenitsyn, the Nobel Prize-winning writer
has died at age 89. I enjoyed his book about life in a lousy, cold Soviet gulag - One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. Friends had asked how I could possibly enjoy that story of misery and harsh deprivation. I replied that when I felt down I could always reread this book and remember how really sweet my life is.
has died at age 89. I enjoyed his book about life in a lousy, cold Soviet gulag - One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. Friends had asked how I could possibly enjoy that story of misery and harsh deprivation. I replied that when I felt down I could always reread this book and remember how really sweet my life is.
A Change
don't know when
can't say how soon
signs are in the clouds
the cards, my dreams,
the wind
there's a taste
in the toast, the soup, the tea
it's coming
tell me, don't you feel it?
can you see?
prepare however you can
straighten the shelves
wash and iron your clothes
tidy up
secure your things
hug those you love
keep your head down
be aware, behave
for good or bad, for sure
a change is on the way
can't say how soon
signs are in the clouds
the cards, my dreams,
the wind
there's a taste
in the toast, the soup, the tea
it's coming
tell me, don't you feel it?
can you see?
prepare however you can
straighten the shelves
wash and iron your clothes
tidy up
secure your things
hug those you love
keep your head down
be aware, behave
for good or bad, for sure
a change is on the way
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Pavarotti
the hundred facets
the hundred facets of us each
some we take and some we teach
all the talents, all the joys
all the girls and all the boys
are represented by just one
the hundred facets are the sum
and every jewel in every place
is seen in only partial face
and so we have our multi selves
changing always where one dwells
forming different combination
never reaching destination
and many of the gems we see
are, a little bit, like you and me
some we take and some we teach
all the talents, all the joys
all the girls and all the boys
are represented by just one
the hundred facets are the sum
and every jewel in every place
is seen in only partial face
and so we have our multi selves
changing always where one dwells
forming different combination
never reaching destination
and many of the gems we see
are, a little bit, like you and me
Labels:
favorites
ike and amy
ike and amy
lived in the white house
next door
ike was a fair golfer
and amy kept her hair in curlers
until saturday night
when they played cards
at our house, then they
both would get inaugurated
lived in the white house
next door
ike was a fair golfer
and amy kept her hair in curlers
until saturday night
when they played cards
at our house, then they
both would get inaugurated
Saturday, August 02, 2008
the conductor
opening the door at the end of the car
the conductor who came in
wore a partially buttoned, baggy blue coat
with pocket flaps, a badge, official looking cap
that had air vents and a sticker on it,
he had a white beard,
his hands full, fiddling with things
stuffing bits of paper in his pouch
coming my way slowly, talking to passengers
as we thundered by snow capped shiny peaks, lakes and forests
he leaned over trying to adjust a window shade for some folks,
it looked like he broke it,
smiled at a full-breasted pretty girl in a
tight fitting t-shirt with a sports team's logo on it
chatted with her a while
maybe he knew her
finally got to me,
asked to see my ticket,
i got up to get my bag
as a happy man pushing a metal cart
clattered through singing,
selling coffee and sandwiches
with a metal change dispenser on his waist
we went around a corner and
everyone swayed left and hung on tighter,
a guy came down the isle talking kind of loudly
to someone six rows away,
a couple of large foreign looking people carrying
several worn cardboard boxes tied with string
were squeezing down the isle
i heard a guy ask what time we get to the next stop
and before i realized i turned to see the blue jacket
slip out the back door without ever checking my ticket,
this elderly, portly, wrinkled conductor on
my private train of thought
the conductor who came in
wore a partially buttoned, baggy blue coat
with pocket flaps, a badge, official looking cap
that had air vents and a sticker on it,
he had a white beard,
his hands full, fiddling with things
stuffing bits of paper in his pouch
coming my way slowly, talking to passengers
as we thundered by snow capped shiny peaks, lakes and forests
he leaned over trying to adjust a window shade for some folks,
it looked like he broke it,
smiled at a full-breasted pretty girl in a
tight fitting t-shirt with a sports team's logo on it
chatted with her a while
maybe he knew her
finally got to me,
asked to see my ticket,
i got up to get my bag
as a happy man pushing a metal cart
clattered through singing,
selling coffee and sandwiches
with a metal change dispenser on his waist
we went around a corner and
everyone swayed left and hung on tighter,
a guy came down the isle talking kind of loudly
to someone six rows away,
a couple of large foreign looking people carrying
several worn cardboard boxes tied with string
were squeezing down the isle
i heard a guy ask what time we get to the next stop
and before i realized i turned to see the blue jacket
slip out the back door without ever checking my ticket,
this elderly, portly, wrinkled conductor on
my private train of thought
Friday, August 01, 2008
terminal velocity
scientifically speaking,
the slowest cycle
of the entire planet earth’s water movement
is called plate tectonics
unless you count grandpa taking a piss
but then, all the water of this planet
is already made
and then recycled
so tell grandpa to quit wasting his time
he’s not helping anybody
instead, this is about the nothing particle stuff
that gets sucked and sucked
up, up, upworthy into the sky
where it gets formed together and then
voila’!
is water again
okay, so,
then it comes down as rain
now do you know how far it falls?
a long, long, long, half a mile?
more?
it falls falling, falling
at terminal velocity when
the downward force of gravity
equals the upward force of drag
one drop rocketing directly into your eyeball
as you happen to look up,
well then, no wonder it makes you blink and sputter.
think about it!
and carry a damn umbrella, you knucklehead
the slowest cycle
of the entire planet earth’s water movement
is called plate tectonics
unless you count grandpa taking a piss
but then, all the water of this planet
is already made
and then recycled
so tell grandpa to quit wasting his time
he’s not helping anybody
instead, this is about the nothing particle stuff
that gets sucked and sucked
up, up, upworthy into the sky
where it gets formed together and then
voila’!
is water again
okay, so,
then it comes down as rain
now do you know how far it falls?
a long, long, long, half a mile?
more?
it falls falling, falling
at terminal velocity when
the downward force of gravity
equals the upward force of drag
one drop rocketing directly into your eyeball
as you happen to look up,
well then, no wonder it makes you blink and sputter.
think about it!
and carry a damn umbrella, you knucklehead
Labels:
practically science
Ron Paul
Ron Paul
just hearing his name
gets me thinking
and that's bad
these are not thinking times
just go along
boy, i say something
that doesn't conform
with the flow
and waves
hit the fan
don't you know?
just hearing his name
gets me thinking
and that's bad
these are not thinking times
just go along
boy, i say something
that doesn't conform
with the flow
and waves
hit the fan
don't you know?
Thursday, July 31, 2008
B-Plus Morning
this fine summer morn
we stood by the pond
frog was there
waiting patiently and calm
we made his noise
i did and she did
we did it together
then frog turned toward us
he watched and puffed a bit
then began his song
we repeated when he stopped
back and forth we talked
after five minutes all had enough
and stopped at the same time,
we wondered what the neighbors thought
if they had heard us
i rated this morning B plus
it would have been an A
if at the end of the concert
we all shook hands
we stood by the pond
frog was there
waiting patiently and calm
we made his noise
i did and she did
we did it together
then frog turned toward us
he watched and puffed a bit
then began his song
we repeated when he stopped
back and forth we talked
after five minutes all had enough
and stopped at the same time,
we wondered what the neighbors thought
if they had heard us
i rated this morning B plus
it would have been an A
if at the end of the concert
we all shook hands
Labels:
poems with frogs
gradually
gradually i have seen
in my lifetime everything, including
our environment, has changed
as the great wheel turns
is it more pollution
or my time on the planet
that makes it evident?
for i am aware it is not the same
of course there is evolution,
coal and diamonds weren't created in the beginning
a half billion years and the world keeps changing
animal, mineral, vegetable
some come, some go, yet we're still here
shoving to get ahead of you
what the hell is going on?
you exhale when you push
and inhale to smell the flowers
in my lifetime everything, including
our environment, has changed
as the great wheel turns
is it more pollution
or my time on the planet
that makes it evident?
for i am aware it is not the same
of course there is evolution,
coal and diamonds weren't created in the beginning
a half billion years and the world keeps changing
animal, mineral, vegetable
some come, some go, yet we're still here
shoving to get ahead of you
what the hell is going on?
you exhale when you push
and inhale to smell the flowers
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
the ultimate dilemma
the decisions of man are many
work to be done is plenty
we set off firm
and never yield
standing tall
for every cause
nothing, nothing
can give us pause
through every challenge
we'll bear the test
always upward
giving all our best
just one small thing
we'll never know
should we cut our hair
or let it grow?
work to be done is plenty
we set off firm
and never yield
standing tall
for every cause
nothing, nothing
can give us pause
through every challenge
we'll bear the test
always upward
giving all our best
just one small thing
we'll never know
should we cut our hair
or let it grow?
template fix
hey, tom
and i know i'm talking to you
cause everyone else is on
computer unavailability
i did a devastating attack on my blog template
customized it to Lourdes and back
now the only blog hits i record are those
arriving by stagecoach or Harley
the rest refuse to take
their shoes off to gallop through
the metal detector, good thing
you still ride au natural
and i know i'm talking to you
cause everyone else is on
computer unavailability
i did a devastating attack on my blog template
customized it to Lourdes and back
now the only blog hits i record are those
arriving by stagecoach or Harley
the rest refuse to take
their shoes off to gallop through
the metal detector, good thing
you still ride au natural
Bad Name
with a name repulsive enough
to cause grown men
to moan and turn away
poetry harbors grace and beauty
sometimes like tennis
there is a head nodding
back and forth
rhythmic iambic pentameter
unlike professional football or soccer
you generally won’t risk getting bruises
or breaking bones playing
poetry without a helmet
perhaps it would become more
appealing to the base masses
if only we called it
word slugging
to cause grown men
to moan and turn away
poetry harbors grace and beauty
sometimes like tennis
there is a head nodding
back and forth
rhythmic iambic pentameter
unlike professional football or soccer
you generally won’t risk getting bruises
or breaking bones playing
poetry without a helmet
perhaps it would become more
appealing to the base masses
if only we called it
word slugging
Labels:
poems on poetry
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Clean Water
dear people of the future
how are you, how’s it going?
look, i want to say
when i brush my teeth i think about
the people of the earth that live in areas
with a shortage of clean water to drink,
i worry about the clean water availability
not overly, but i am aware
of a potential problem of supply
so i turn the tap water volume down in the sink
when i don’t immediately need it
conservation has to matter,
look what happened to the buffalo
that once were bumper to bumper on the plains
and were shot for sport from passing trains
will water shortage be a problem for everyone
in a hundred years or twenty?
and while i am brushing i wonder who else
is thinking about water
water rights are being purchased
is that a “so what?” or not?
you could tell me
slip a note into my dream or something
can you do that?
how are you, how’s it going?
look, i want to say
when i brush my teeth i think about
the people of the earth that live in areas
with a shortage of clean water to drink,
i worry about the clean water availability
not overly, but i am aware
of a potential problem of supply
so i turn the tap water volume down in the sink
when i don’t immediately need it
conservation has to matter,
look what happened to the buffalo
that once were bumper to bumper on the plains
and were shot for sport from passing trains
will water shortage be a problem for everyone
in a hundred years or twenty?
and while i am brushing i wonder who else
is thinking about water
water rights are being purchased
is that a “so what?” or not?
you could tell me
slip a note into my dream or something
can you do that?
Labels:
practically science
Monday, July 28, 2008
loving a woman
loving a woman
for a man of errors
not big ones
not all of them
okay, some of them
yeah, a few
as a matter of fact
she divorced me
but we got married again
now our anniversary
is the 28th and 29th of July
now, that's a love story
for a man of errors
not big ones
not all of them
okay, some of them
yeah, a few
as a matter of fact
she divorced me
but we got married again
now our anniversary
is the 28th and 29th of July
now, that's a love story
Hollywood Times
large and colorful enough for a million poems
Vine down the street, the world of cinema on every corner
a palm treed cake walk everyday
nice cars, crazy people - dressed to prove it
the Labrea Tar Pits, museums, the beach
the Hollywood sign above on the hill
warm, dry wind and smog
everyone has star stories
they live and shop all around
walk the streets, some to be seen
those hills hide mansions
stand up comics pump gas
studios, writers, actors, technicians
and a whole lot of fans
locals remember earlier times
my friend played where they
later built the Hollywood Freeway
from the window where i worked on Sunset
i often saw Groucho taking is 9a.m. walk
an animal trainer friend used to stop at jimmy stewart's
house on Saturday for a chat as Jimmy washed his car
an impersonator i worked with did Peter Falk as Columbo
at the Hollywood Bowl, the audience thought
it was Peter Falk, there was a slip up and
the guy's name was never mentioned
and this nothing story is a drop in that Pacific Ocean
lights, cameras and
if that's not enough
they even put them in the sidewalk
more stars than the night
Vine down the street, the world of cinema on every corner
a palm treed cake walk everyday
nice cars, crazy people - dressed to prove it
the Labrea Tar Pits, museums, the beach
the Hollywood sign above on the hill
warm, dry wind and smog
everyone has star stories
they live and shop all around
walk the streets, some to be seen
those hills hide mansions
stand up comics pump gas
studios, writers, actors, technicians
and a whole lot of fans
locals remember earlier times
my friend played where they
later built the Hollywood Freeway
from the window where i worked on Sunset
i often saw Groucho taking is 9a.m. walk
an animal trainer friend used to stop at jimmy stewart's
house on Saturday for a chat as Jimmy washed his car
an impersonator i worked with did Peter Falk as Columbo
at the Hollywood Bowl, the audience thought
it was Peter Falk, there was a slip up and
the guy's name was never mentioned
and this nothing story is a drop in that Pacific Ocean
lights, cameras and
if that's not enough
they even put them in the sidewalk
more stars than the night
Sunday, July 27, 2008
In the woods
All that time in the woods and not much was put to words. Not then. Not while we were repairing, building, creating, learning. Being survivors. We were an hour from the nearest store, isolated on a far off dirt road above the Mojave desert, beyond Jawbone Canyon, left where the Platts lived and thirty bumpy minutes up the winding dirt road to our ten acres in the woods, high on the mountain.
It took two years searching the Sunday L.A. Times classifieds until I found it, and knew that if this wasn’t it, then the guy who placed the ad knew what I wanted and where to find it. It sounded like a dream, and it was. Lonesome Al sold it to me and became our good friend.
So I sold my L. A. home and bought gold when it was less than two hundred dollars an ounce, rode it up, and then sold at nearly at eight hundred an ounce to support our new lifestyle.
We carried our water from the ranger station, used coal oil lamps and used wood to cook and heat. It makes me smile thinking about our old miner’s log and plank cabins, our creek where she bathed for our wedding, the graveyard, two fallen gold mines, the spot where the post office used to be. It was our ghost town. Maybe not the whole thing, but enough, ten pine and oak covered acres of it.
There were only four other people who lived on the mountain, so we thought of it as ours. We did have fun. Lived by the sun up and down. The moon marked time for us. One battery powered radio was our touch with the world.
All that time, two years in the woods, and the words became quiet, because above the trees the open sky was bigger than our thoughts. The stars demanded attention without words. We could keep a fire going with just the right wood at the right time. She learned to cook on a wood stove and I learned how to cut wood, as the trees talked together. In great rushes the wind stirred over there then would grow and come around and come by together in a rush. There are no words in that sound. The prevalent sound being the hum of the earth.
Perhaps if I were a better investor, and the silver market hadn’t crashed, we’d be there still. Now, she just slowly shook her head and said to me, “It was a good thing to do while we were young.” And that's how I know, life is but a dream.
It took two years searching the Sunday L.A. Times classifieds until I found it, and knew that if this wasn’t it, then the guy who placed the ad knew what I wanted and where to find it. It sounded like a dream, and it was. Lonesome Al sold it to me and became our good friend.
So I sold my L. A. home and bought gold when it was less than two hundred dollars an ounce, rode it up, and then sold at nearly at eight hundred an ounce to support our new lifestyle.
We carried our water from the ranger station, used coal oil lamps and used wood to cook and heat. It makes me smile thinking about our old miner’s log and plank cabins, our creek where she bathed for our wedding, the graveyard, two fallen gold mines, the spot where the post office used to be. It was our ghost town. Maybe not the whole thing, but enough, ten pine and oak covered acres of it.
There were only four other people who lived on the mountain, so we thought of it as ours. We did have fun. Lived by the sun up and down. The moon marked time for us. One battery powered radio was our touch with the world.
All that time, two years in the woods, and the words became quiet, because above the trees the open sky was bigger than our thoughts. The stars demanded attention without words. We could keep a fire going with just the right wood at the right time. She learned to cook on a wood stove and I learned how to cut wood, as the trees talked together. In great rushes the wind stirred over there then would grow and come around and come by together in a rush. There are no words in that sound. The prevalent sound being the hum of the earth.
Perhaps if I were a better investor, and the silver market hadn’t crashed, we’d be there still. Now, she just slowly shook her head and said to me, “It was a good thing to do while we were young.” And that's how I know, life is but a dream.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
faces
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
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
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
Saturday, July 19, 2008
half our brain
scientists say we're using half our brain
what half are you using?
the upper delta
or the lower mandella?
i wouldn't bet on it,
want to sleep on it?
oh, i made up that scientist part
now go drive in traffic
but watch out, will you!
a lot of them are riding on
the rims of their lower mandible
what half are you using?
the upper delta
or the lower mandella?
i wouldn't bet on it,
want to sleep on it?
oh, i made up that scientist part
now go drive in traffic
but watch out, will you!
a lot of them are riding on
the rims of their lower mandible
Labels:
practically science
feeling down
yeah, okay so feeling down is depressing
but not so bad as repeated beanballs to the noggin,
when you realize we've all done it
up is the only way to go from there
you'll get by, this too shall pass
you won't make the record book
so turn the corner, get over it
hey, are these words of comfort, or what?
but not so bad as repeated beanballs to the noggin,
when you realize we've all done it
up is the only way to go from there
you'll get by, this too shall pass
you won't make the record book
so turn the corner, get over it
hey, are these words of comfort, or what?
Labels:
poems of life
Friday, July 18, 2008
love in California
heart of steel
love is real
money in a vault
you know my ways
i love your ways
want to go
now you know
headlines all i read
you know my ways
i love your ways
one thing to warn you
there's love in California
oh, honey
you know my ways
and i love your ways
love is real
money in a vault
you know my ways
i love your ways
want to go
now you know
headlines all i read
you know my ways
i love your ways
one thing to warn you
there's love in California
oh, honey
you know my ways
and i love your ways
Labels:
love
Thursday, July 17, 2008
sand
elbows, butt and heels in the sand
neck bent upwards with face to the hazy sun
an occasional wave can reach me
my son in the sand can teach me
it's june and i'm having fun
birds picking trash in the wash
i'm following them walk the line the waves make
just watching in a half-cool light wind
as our sand castles crumble again
tuesday afternoon and there's nowhere i have to be
some other time, tomorrow and yesterday can't find me
i'm buried to my ankles in the sand
the waves repeat the ten thousand things
that, and the wind, makes my ers ring
jon is pointing, but i can't hear what he's saying
neck bent upwards with face to the hazy sun
an occasional wave can reach me
my son in the sand can teach me
it's june and i'm having fun
birds picking trash in the wash
i'm following them walk the line the waves make
just watching in a half-cool light wind
as our sand castles crumble again
tuesday afternoon and there's nowhere i have to be
some other time, tomorrow and yesterday can't find me
i'm buried to my ankles in the sand
the waves repeat the ten thousand things
that, and the wind, makes my ers ring
jon is pointing, but i can't hear what he's saying
Labels:
favorites
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
mowers of lawn
we drove south
saw long lawns and riding mowers
couldn't belive they don't plant
flowers and trees, make gathering areas
i use a Brill push mower
it's light and easy
what She doesn't plant
i mow quickly
no gas, no oil
start and stop when i want
take a break, work in pieces
i had a five dollar used push mower
but the gears wore out
fifty years will do it
wait and see, after fifty years
your gears will be worn
saw long lawns and riding mowers
couldn't belive they don't plant
flowers and trees, make gathering areas
i use a Brill push mower
it's light and easy
what She doesn't plant
i mow quickly
no gas, no oil
start and stop when i want
take a break, work in pieces
i had a five dollar used push mower
but the gears wore out
fifty years will do it
wait and see, after fifty years
your gears will be worn
weed
i yanked a weed today
then She helped me
address the weed
become one with the weed
that's the only way you get them out of the ground
that was my lesson
in fifty thousand years the star people will say
She really knew how to do it
then She helped me
address the weed
become one with the weed
that's the only way you get them out of the ground
that was my lesson
in fifty thousand years the star people will say
She really knew how to do it
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
everything we are
as we read words of those gone,
now off in somewhere out of sight,
nothing is left of their times
only recorded shards remain
memories are slim fragments
that don't do justice to the fullness felt
when it was us, when we were then
all slips from present tense to nearly forgotten
history is nothing in this world
lessons standing only in the telling
anachronistic flickers
out of time, out of place
so as you move ahead each day
do pay attention to every moment
and do your best to make good ripples
in the changing seas of time
now off in somewhere out of sight,
nothing is left of their times
only recorded shards remain
memories are slim fragments
that don't do justice to the fullness felt
when it was us, when we were then
all slips from present tense to nearly forgotten
history is nothing in this world
lessons standing only in the telling
anachronistic flickers
out of time, out of place
so as you move ahead each day
do pay attention to every moment
and do your best to make good ripples
in the changing seas of time
Monday, July 14, 2008
mini vacation
pack our wheels
got a map
all set now
hit the road
after some freeway
we're in the open
see the trees
barns, hills and fences
let's stop to eat
need gas, got to pee
there's a motel with a pool
this is far enough
sometimes just a
change of pasture
is all an animal needs
to be content
got a map
all set now
hit the road
after some freeway
we're in the open
see the trees
barns, hills and fences
let's stop to eat
need gas, got to pee
there's a motel with a pool
this is far enough
sometimes just a
change of pasture
is all an animal needs
to be content
my daughter
such a little thing
one time we called her Squint Frumpy
less than one arm long
lying on her side
not quite asleep anymore
content in her world
now we call her Binky
my daughter
one time we called her Squint Frumpy
less than one arm long
lying on her side
not quite asleep anymore
content in her world
now we call her Binky
my daughter
lamp light
street lamp light
at night
so bright
give me a break
it keeps me awake
if i want to read a book at home
i'll turn on my own light
these are neighborhood city lights
tax money is paying for the
overloud of illumination
pissing it away and masking the stars
street light
so bright
first lamp
i see tonight
i wish i may
i wish i might
have an axe
and chop you down
at night
so bright
give me a break
it keeps me awake
if i want to read a book at home
i'll turn on my own light
these are neighborhood city lights
tax money is paying for the
overloud of illumination
pissing it away and masking the stars
street light
so bright
first lamp
i see tonight
i wish i may
i wish i might
have an axe
and chop you down
Sunday, July 13, 2008
frog one-one
Hah! And you thought you were through with frogs. Look, even serious poets can go overboard. Here I am treading water. . .
Frog one-one
i got in the car
and drove to the shopping plaza
it was about empty and i was going slowly
driving in circles
in the parking lot
my brain was on overdrive
my turn signal on
it blinked, but i didn't
until i nearly ran out of gas
and then nearly cried when i realized it was true
cause i triple checked, twice
there was no store called
Frog Aid
i want to explain, dear reader
we saw them, well she pointed them out to me
now there are four
like a Sergio Leone movie
four, tall in the saddle
well, . . . in the pond
and she says they're the same four
"Which same?" i yelled
"Say that three times fast," she said
as she did it, "Which same, which same, which same."
i tried and couldn't do it
once i had to read a commercial for Misses Pauls Fish Sticks in L.A. at KBIG
and i finally turned it over to Dave the Slave in the midnight cave,
another announcer, cause i couldn't say fish sticks smoothly
"which same" gave me the same trouble
as fish sticks
but my gut feeling told me
these are all new guys
four hiding, sneaking frogs
lurking out there
waiting for sundown
i drove home, cause i knew what i had to do
"frog one one, may I help you," the voice said with authority
"That's what I want to know. There's four in the pond."
i heard him drop the phone
then, "Is anyone at home?" he asked.
"I'm calling from home."
"Get out of town!" he said.
"I'm on my way."
"No, I mean are you kidding?" he asked.
"Uh, . . . what part?"
dial tone
that was two hours ago
i've been back at the shopping plaza parking lot
driving in more circles
determined to find a
Frogs Are Us
. . . i need to make a donation
Frog one-one
i got in the car
and drove to the shopping plaza
it was about empty and i was going slowly
driving in circles
in the parking lot
my brain was on overdrive
my turn signal on
it blinked, but i didn't
until i nearly ran out of gas
and then nearly cried when i realized it was true
cause i triple checked, twice
there was no store called
Frog Aid
i want to explain, dear reader
we saw them, well she pointed them out to me
now there are four
like a Sergio Leone movie
four, tall in the saddle
well, . . . in the pond
and she says they're the same four
"Which same?" i yelled
"Say that three times fast," she said
as she did it, "Which same, which same, which same."
i tried and couldn't do it
once i had to read a commercial for Misses Pauls Fish Sticks in L.A. at KBIG
and i finally turned it over to Dave the Slave in the midnight cave,
another announcer, cause i couldn't say fish sticks smoothly
"which same" gave me the same trouble
as fish sticks
but my gut feeling told me
these are all new guys
four hiding, sneaking frogs
lurking out there
waiting for sundown
i drove home, cause i knew what i had to do
"frog one one, may I help you," the voice said with authority
"That's what I want to know. There's four in the pond."
i heard him drop the phone
then, "Is anyone at home?" he asked.
"I'm calling from home."
"Get out of town!" he said.
"I'm on my way."
"No, I mean are you kidding?" he asked.
"Uh, . . . what part?"
dial tone
that was two hours ago
i've been back at the shopping plaza parking lot
driving in more circles
determined to find a
Frogs Are Us
. . . i need to make a donation
Labels:
poems with frogs
side note
did you plan well?
i know there's more than you expected
did life fall into place for you?
how it goes today,
what you are doing
is how you are spending your life
get used to it
i hope you're loving it
i know there's more than you expected
did life fall into place for you?
how it goes today,
what you are doing
is how you are spending your life
get used to it
i hope you're loving it
Labels:
poems of life
Saturday, July 12, 2008
a small hometown parade
we had our hometown parade
this rolling cloudy, mostly sunny, humid, hot day
and, in no time, it has us
cheering them marching
there was a car blaring music for
miniature brightly costumed baton spinners
smiling snappy-proud as could be,
people from decorated flatbeds threw handfuls of candy,
big guys in customized '52 Chevy pickups waved,
our fire truck waltzed by and gave a siren blast,
candidates ran from their cars handing out campaign brochures,
the high school band played the spirited school song
my friend ran behind his house to roll up his car windows
the forecast said it would rain later
and then, as bagpipers strode by just starting Anchors Away
the sky opened with an instant deluge
pounding cannons of heavy downpour flooded the street,
candy washed down the drains
everyone ran laughing for shelter under trees and front porches
then two minutes later
the soaked ones continued happily on their warm sloppy trek
parades can't just stop,
and their rides home were a long drizzling walk away
what joy
God love 'em
for showing the best of what little towns are made of,
here's a day i'd gladly live again
this rolling cloudy, mostly sunny, humid, hot day
and, in no time, it has us
cheering them marching
there was a car blaring music for
miniature brightly costumed baton spinners
smiling snappy-proud as could be,
people from decorated flatbeds threw handfuls of candy,
big guys in customized '52 Chevy pickups waved,
our fire truck waltzed by and gave a siren blast,
candidates ran from their cars handing out campaign brochures,
the high school band played the spirited school song
my friend ran behind his house to roll up his car windows
the forecast said it would rain later
and then, as bagpipers strode by just starting Anchors Away
the sky opened with an instant deluge
pounding cannons of heavy downpour flooded the street,
candy washed down the drains
everyone ran laughing for shelter under trees and front porches
then two minutes later
the soaked ones continued happily on their warm sloppy trek
parades can't just stop,
and their rides home were a long drizzling walk away
what joy
God love 'em
for showing the best of what little towns are made of,
here's a day i'd gladly live again
psycho mom and me
figuring something out
is not easy
that's why it takes time
and why everyone hasn't done it at least once already
maybe no on has figured out anything yet
i suppose some are working on it
the tough thing is the question
what exactly are we supposed to be figuring out?
now i am speaking in vagaries here, not specifics
people do resolve minor problems
like how to fix something broken
or how to make a better toaster or hamburger cooker
but lets stay vague
vague is where we are, remember that
it's where we live when you take away
everything scheduled and programmed for us
now, life? course of action?
these sound like possibilities for specifics
that need resolution
years ago i wrote a few pages description of some answer
to resolve the question of
being in the present moment.
i typed it up and gave it to my mother
that was a hell of a stupid thing to do, i know,
but i had figured out life
and thought it'd be great to share it with my mom
so she'd have the answer and feel good too
i remember she just looked at what i gave her,
didn't care about or understand my explanation of what i
had written, and after she tried to read it
she had a questioning look on her face
i think she might have asked me if i was all right,
meaning, was i crazy
it is one thing to have a momentous transcendental thought
complete in your mind
and quite another to try to put it quickly into words on
paper for your mother, a woman who essentially didn't give
a shit
mom was not a thinker of what anyone would call heavy thoughts
she thought about what she was going to make Chester for dinner
at the time i was inspired by Ram Dass - aka Richard Alpert
and the stuff i gave her was about living in the present.
Be Here Now was his book and i had a recording of a lecture he gave
it was deep, he taught at Harvard and dropped a lot of acid
and smoked a lot of dope with Timothy Leary
my mom was a Canadian Club and water woman
and i know she had some fear of water, as in the lake
it all somehow relates to the way she thought,
how her mind processed material
"mow the yard"
that's how she thought
and that was a bit of a digression to this discussion
but, as mom would have done
i think i'll leave it at that
is not easy
that's why it takes time
and why everyone hasn't done it at least once already
maybe no on has figured out anything yet
i suppose some are working on it
the tough thing is the question
what exactly are we supposed to be figuring out?
now i am speaking in vagaries here, not specifics
people do resolve minor problems
like how to fix something broken
or how to make a better toaster or hamburger cooker
but lets stay vague
vague is where we are, remember that
it's where we live when you take away
everything scheduled and programmed for us
now, life? course of action?
these sound like possibilities for specifics
that need resolution
years ago i wrote a few pages description of some answer
to resolve the question of
being in the present moment.
i typed it up and gave it to my mother
that was a hell of a stupid thing to do, i know,
but i had figured out life
and thought it'd be great to share it with my mom
so she'd have the answer and feel good too
i remember she just looked at what i gave her,
didn't care about or understand my explanation of what i
had written, and after she tried to read it
she had a questioning look on her face
i think she might have asked me if i was all right,
meaning, was i crazy
it is one thing to have a momentous transcendental thought
complete in your mind
and quite another to try to put it quickly into words on
paper for your mother, a woman who essentially didn't give
a shit
mom was not a thinker of what anyone would call heavy thoughts
she thought about what she was going to make Chester for dinner
at the time i was inspired by Ram Dass - aka Richard Alpert
and the stuff i gave her was about living in the present.
Be Here Now was his book and i had a recording of a lecture he gave
it was deep, he taught at Harvard and dropped a lot of acid
and smoked a lot of dope with Timothy Leary
my mom was a Canadian Club and water woman
and i know she had some fear of water, as in the lake
it all somehow relates to the way she thought,
how her mind processed material
"mow the yard"
that's how she thought
and that was a bit of a digression to this discussion
but, as mom would have done
i think i'll leave it at that
a penny from everyone
so what do you do with sixty million
do you go to the disco with paris hilton
wear your nice shoes and cool clothes
i mean, go where she goes
or, okay, maybe with her
yeah, then what do you do for an encore?
do you have eight wide, large-screen TVs all in a circle
and sit in the middle
spinning on a revolving chair
and eat popcorn
pulling it out'a your hair
and drink wine
watching all the time
with volumes all up to the max
until your ears ring?
hey, i'll drink to that, to all that stuff
until my ears ring too
i'm which chew, i am
chew, achew, ahchew
my God, i got the plague
how could that be
when i worked so hard for my money?
i'm dead
do you go to the disco with paris hilton
wear your nice shoes and cool clothes
i mean, go where she goes
or, okay, maybe with her
yeah, then what do you do for an encore?
do you have eight wide, large-screen TVs all in a circle
and sit in the middle
spinning on a revolving chair
and eat popcorn
pulling it out'a your hair
and drink wine
watching all the time
with volumes all up to the max
until your ears ring?
hey, i'll drink to that, to all that stuff
until my ears ring too
i'm which chew, i am
chew, achew, ahchew
my God, i got the plague
how could that be
when i worked so hard for my money?
i'm dead
excuse me
excuse me, is this seat taken?
no, i mean this seat right here, is it taken?
wait are you joking or what?
well, why can't i see anyone sitting there?
to the restroom? how long ago?
what does she look like
i just wondered
say, did you report her missing?
well, maybe she's not coming back
did you think about that?
i am serious
the movie started and everyone's seated
did she drive, or does she have a friend?
now where are you going?
good luck . . . oh, since you;re leaving
can i have the rest of that popcorn?
no, i mean this seat right here, is it taken?
wait are you joking or what?
well, why can't i see anyone sitting there?
to the restroom? how long ago?
what does she look like
i just wondered
say, did you report her missing?
well, maybe she's not coming back
did you think about that?
i am serious
the movie started and everyone's seated
did she drive, or does she have a friend?
now where are you going?
good luck . . . oh, since you;re leaving
can i have the rest of that popcorn?
Friday, July 11, 2008
in God's eye
in God's eye
in the universe
is the naked oneness of us each
me reflecting you
you reflecting me
playing life
from the center
up for love
down for fear
if you're alone
am i here?
in the universe
is the naked oneness of us each
me reflecting you
you reflecting me
playing life
from the center
up for love
down for fear
if you're alone
am i here?
what do you say
with all the pollen
and the breezes
what do you say
when somebody sneezes?
700 years ago
they said God bless you
to pray that person
didn't have the plague
if you move fast
you can keep out of the way
no one wants a blast
of that lousy spray
so when someone sneezes
why not just shout
hey, you
cut that shit out!
and the breezes
what do you say
when somebody sneezes?
700 years ago
they said God bless you
to pray that person
didn't have the plague
if you move fast
you can keep out of the way
no one wants a blast
of that lousy spray
so when someone sneezes
why not just shout
hey, you
cut that shit out!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
hello Santiago
you did well to check her for galluses.
winter time - suspenders and i
go everywhere together
in warm weather i can do without
i can do without a lot of things in warm weather
this may be one of the top sites on the globe
in support of suspenders, braces or galluses
maybe
maybe not
winter time - suspenders and i
go everywhere together
in warm weather i can do without
i can do without a lot of things in warm weather
this may be one of the top sites on the globe
in support of suspenders, braces or galluses
maybe
maybe not
a Captain
that man is a sailor
a Captain
there are very few like him, you know
he sits there now in his chair by the window
overlooking the sea, smoking his pipe
thinking about his days at sea
when waves tossed his ship about
and thrashed his crew against the rails
as rain and hurricane winds
fought to see who would be first
to dismember his ship
his eyes now smile in faint recollection
of Pacific ports
where natives gathered to look upon the face
that dared stand against the sea
and where young girls across a table listened
as he told tales of great adventures in unchartered waters
as together they sipped rough wines while slender
native fingers stroked his steal-gray beard
there were ports and storms
and brave men waiting his word
to set course for open waters
and other adventures
his face is firm as leather, yet kind
his hands, strong
her eyes, though old, yet speak with authority
and command the attention he has earned
he went to sea in his youth
and now, in old age, is satisfied to know
his dreams were fulfilled
that man is a sailor
a Captain
there are very few like him, you know
a Captain
there are very few like him, you know
he sits there now in his chair by the window
overlooking the sea, smoking his pipe
thinking about his days at sea
when waves tossed his ship about
and thrashed his crew against the rails
as rain and hurricane winds
fought to see who would be first
to dismember his ship
his eyes now smile in faint recollection
of Pacific ports
where natives gathered to look upon the face
that dared stand against the sea
and where young girls across a table listened
as he told tales of great adventures in unchartered waters
as together they sipped rough wines while slender
native fingers stroked his steal-gray beard
there were ports and storms
and brave men waiting his word
to set course for open waters
and other adventures
his face is firm as leather, yet kind
his hands, strong
her eyes, though old, yet speak with authority
and command the attention he has earned
he went to sea in his youth
and now, in old age, is satisfied to know
his dreams were fulfilled
that man is a sailor
a Captain
there are very few like him, you know
Labels:
sea
george wilson, artist
camel hair flowed under
wilson the captain
who, drinking contour
touched us all
a silver-tongued, lion hearted
could recall a mess of fish and clowns
whatever he painted
bare chested and sweating
lean, yet strong as a bronze whale
shared his good spirit
he did not know age was meant for man
for a fine artist and a friend from years ago
wilson the captain
who, drinking contour
touched us all
a silver-tongued, lion hearted
could recall a mess of fish and clowns
whatever he painted
bare chested and sweating
lean, yet strong as a bronze whale
shared his good spirit
he did not know age was meant for man
for a fine artist and a friend from years ago
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
fourth of july
fourth of july i sat impatiently
on an eight foot skyrocket
while smoking a cigar
that i used to light my vehicle
i aimed for the moon and missed
just circled it twice
then bounced quickly in seattle
and landed under my couch
on an eight foot skyrocket
while smoking a cigar
that i used to light my vehicle
i aimed for the moon and missed
just circled it twice
then bounced quickly in seattle
and landed under my couch
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