***
090531
STOPPING TRAFFIC
I must say,
they do show pluck—
those babies and
their mama duck!
090530
BECOMING A DOG PERSON
At first, I deny them.
“These are not my dogs.”
They barge into campers’ tents,
harass the geese,
make runs at other walkers.
“Not mine. They just adopted me
for the morning.”
They chase bikers, yelp at squirrels,
come and go like a pair of boomerangs.
“They don’t belong to me.”
They disappear into marsh grass
(except for happy tails, held high).
They win me over.
“These are not my dogs.
They don’t belong to me.
It’s the opposite. They adopted me;
I belong to them.”
090528
SIGHTINGS
In a state forest once,
as I was walking,
I came across a kangaroo.
Minutes later, someone else
spotted a wild turkey
in the same vicinity.
Near a state park tonight,
as I was walking,
a pteryodactyl flew overhead.
Maybe I should keep this
to myself?
090527
FRESH FROM THE STORM
Cast up on the lakeshore—
one waterlogged shoe and a bar of soap.
That definitely was a cleansing rain!
ONE JOY
When your life breaks apart,
one pebble of that rubble—
one candlelight,
one bird in flight, one joy—
can break apart your heart.
090526
ORDER UP!
Good morning. I’m your higher power;
I’ll be your server today.
What do you want, and how do want it?
Raw, rare, medium? How about well-done?
Still thinking? How about burnt?
Hurry—any choice you might have had
is about to vaporize!
***
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Flowers & Other Delights
***
090525
HICKORY CREEK PARK
My private winter playground
has just been overrun
with hoards of weekend campers
loudly having fun.
But! It is a state park,
and summer has come;
and doesn’t everyone
deserve a place in the sun?
090525
TRICKSTER TREAT
You’re walking down a country road
through sparse woods, in a mist turned drizzle
about to turn rain.
Up ahead, you notice a dog, or not-dog;
coyote-sized, with grizzle-gray in its coat,
bushy-tailed.
It weaves down the road, as if
crisscrossing paths with an invisible partner.
It looks back at you; takes you in; resumes.
Coyote? Dog?
Casually, with one last glance at you,
it turns from the road, enters the woods,
and is gone.
You know it is gone, feeling strange because
you don’t know how you know it is gone.
You look into the woods anyway, puzzling.
Hours later, you still puzzle—
Can a coyote look like that?
Does any animal actually move like that?
At what point was it aware of me?
What does this crazy encounter mean?
Lucky enough to have a Native American handy
(as your own spouse), you enquire. And you learn.
The proper question is not,
“What do coyotes do?”
It is, “What does Coyote do?”
And the answer is:
“Anything to mess with your mind.”
090524
ANNE-IVERSARY
Enough of winter hideaway!
Maidens, to the meadow, pray.
Daisy, Iris—quit thy rest.
Hie thee to our Mayday fest.
Go ye, gowned in colors bright.
Rose—deep pink will suit thee quite.
Susan—choose some gold delight.
I, thy Queen, shall dress in white.
UNCUT FLOWERS
Daisies are in bloom today,
roses, cosmos, too;
many floral treasures—
I picked this one for you.
090523
GLORIA DAILY
Dawn comes rosey.
Dawn comes gray.
Dawn comes welcome
every day.
HUSBANDED
Life has been
so good to me;
life and he.
He’s making me
a cup of tea.
SLOT MACHINE
Muse, I use you—
over and over, again, again—
putting my little pen-ny in;
expecting, every time, a win.
***
090525
HICKORY CREEK PARK
My private winter playground
has just been overrun
with hoards of weekend campers
loudly having fun.
But! It is a state park,
and summer has come;
and doesn’t everyone
deserve a place in the sun?
090525
TRICKSTER TREAT
You’re walking down a country road
through sparse woods, in a mist turned drizzle
about to turn rain.
Up ahead, you notice a dog, or not-dog;
coyote-sized, with grizzle-gray in its coat,
bushy-tailed.
It weaves down the road, as if
crisscrossing paths with an invisible partner.
It looks back at you; takes you in; resumes.
Coyote? Dog?
Casually, with one last glance at you,
it turns from the road, enters the woods,
and is gone.
You know it is gone, feeling strange because
you don’t know how you know it is gone.
You look into the woods anyway, puzzling.
Hours later, you still puzzle—
Can a coyote look like that?
Does any animal actually move like that?
At what point was it aware of me?
What does this crazy encounter mean?
Lucky enough to have a Native American handy
(as your own spouse), you enquire. And you learn.
The proper question is not,
“What do coyotes do?”
It is, “What does Coyote do?”
And the answer is:
“Anything to mess with your mind.”
090524
ANNE-IVERSARY
Enough of winter hideaway!
Maidens, to the meadow, pray.
Daisy, Iris—quit thy rest.
Hie thee to our Mayday fest.
Go ye, gowned in colors bright.
Rose—deep pink will suit thee quite.
Susan—choose some gold delight.
I, thy Queen, shall dress in white.
UNCUT FLOWERS
Daisies are in bloom today,
roses, cosmos, too;
many floral treasures—
I picked this one for you.
090523
GLORIA DAILY
Dawn comes rosey.
Dawn comes gray.
Dawn comes welcome
every day.
HUSBANDED
Life has been
so good to me;
life and he.
He’s making me
a cup of tea.
SLOT MACHINE
Muse, I use you—
over and over, again, again—
putting my little pen-ny in;
expecting, every time, a win.
***
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Xealous
***
090522
XEALOT
On the planet Xebulon, a robot,
come-to-life, looks on with wonder
at the Xebulese magnificence of lands
and seas, and aches to share
the wondrous news of the planet’s
wondrous views; aches to share
(from dawn-till-dusk and dusk-till-dawn)
news of planet Xebulon.
TALENT OR NO
To write a poem about a day
is redundantly redundant.
The day is a poem.
The writing is a poem.
The poet is a poem;
talent or no talent.
090501
NEWBORN
Eighty, sure.
Or ninety, or a hundred.
Any time’s a good time
to start the life you’ve neglected.
No time like the present.
***
090522
XEALOT
On the planet Xebulon, a robot,
come-to-life, looks on with wonder
at the Xebulese magnificence of lands
and seas, and aches to share
the wondrous news of the planet’s
wondrous views; aches to share
(from dawn-till-dusk and dusk-till-dawn)
news of planet Xebulon.
TALENT OR NO
To write a poem about a day
is redundantly redundant.
The day is a poem.
The writing is a poem.
The poet is a poem;
talent or no talent.
090501
NEWBORN
Eighty, sure.
Or ninety, or a hundred.
Any time’s a good time
to start the life you’ve neglected.
No time like the present.
***
Wild and Tame
***
090520
LOVE PANGS
Love ya, Darlin'—
serene or snarlin'!
Love them porky-pines, too.
Would'n pet one, tho'.
Would you?
CHICKEN : EGG
insight : outlook
EAVESDROPPING ON GEESE
Huh! Huh! Huh!
Huh! Huh! Huh!
I TOLD-ja. I TOLD-ja.
Huh? Huh? Huh?
LEVELS OF LIVING (for Rhonda)
Knowledge.
Understanding.
Wisdom.
We build these, one by one.
Survival.
Success.
Significance.
Ultimately, the sum.
090519
SPRUNG
We left doors open overnight,
left outdoor lights full on.
That bird
trapped in our four-cat house
was, by daylight, gone.
090518
DIMINISHED
depriving you
deprives me too
090517
REALMS
Where these meet—tame
and wild—each of us
is still a child.
NOURISHMENT
Sitting on my bed,
looking through my window—
with cereal bowl on lap and
spoon suspended—
I have deer for breakfast.
SELECTIVE
I love to browse through cookbooks.
I love to party-plan.
I love to buy from gourmet shops—
high-standarded I am!
I love to sear those prime filets
that sizzle in my pan,
or stir a roux, or brew a stew,
or extricate a clam.
But certain things, I do not like—
and those I do not do.
I do not peel potatoes,
remove the mold from cheese,
or ever wash the dishes.
I do not shell the peas.
I will not clean a mushroom
or any earthy crop,
or stop to mop a countertop;
and so, I serve up slop.
SOMEHOW, IT MAKES SENSE
Ears go ever deafer;
eyes, ever more dim.
Heart, though!
Heart is magic—
through suffering, it heals.
The more the loss,
the more the art.
Take heart! Take heart!
The more its loss, the more it feels.
COMMENTARY
Oy, oh boy, olé, hurray,
yay and ick and nix!
Words and ways
in such array.
Life is quite a mix!
SUPPLY DEMAND
Muse, don’t be so stingy!
Don’t play games with me.
When you give me nothing,
how poetic can I be?
Is this curse, or help, or dare?
All you give me is plain air!
Are you teaching, craftily,
how creative I can be?
BACKTRACKING
You relied on me.
I relied on you.
So how did we arrive
in this pickle; in this stew?
SORRY, BUD!
Howdy, Duty—
steady friend
whom I neglect
again again.
090516
IT’S THE
STUPID ECONOMY
What works?
What works?
What works?
Tell me—do you know?
You don’t?
You don’t?
You don’t?
Ah, well—so apropos!
***
090520
LOVE PANGS
Love ya, Darlin'—
serene or snarlin'!
Love them porky-pines, too.
Would'n pet one, tho'.
Would you?
CHICKEN : EGG
insight : outlook
EAVESDROPPING ON GEESE
Huh! Huh! Huh!
Huh! Huh! Huh!
I TOLD-ja. I TOLD-ja.
Huh? Huh? Huh?
LEVELS OF LIVING (for Rhonda)
Knowledge.
Understanding.
Wisdom.
We build these, one by one.
Survival.
Success.
Significance.
Ultimately, the sum.
090519
SPRUNG
We left doors open overnight,
left outdoor lights full on.
That bird
trapped in our four-cat house
was, by daylight, gone.
090518
DIMINISHED
depriving you
deprives me too
090517
REALMS
Where these meet—tame
and wild—each of us
is still a child.
NOURISHMENT
Sitting on my bed,
looking through my window—
with cereal bowl on lap and
spoon suspended—
I have deer for breakfast.
SELECTIVE
I love to browse through cookbooks.
I love to party-plan.
I love to buy from gourmet shops—
high-standarded I am!
I love to sear those prime filets
that sizzle in my pan,
or stir a roux, or brew a stew,
or extricate a clam.
But certain things, I do not like—
and those I do not do.
I do not peel potatoes,
remove the mold from cheese,
or ever wash the dishes.
I do not shell the peas.
I will not clean a mushroom
or any earthy crop,
or stop to mop a countertop;
and so, I serve up slop.
SOMEHOW, IT MAKES SENSE
Ears go ever deafer;
eyes, ever more dim.
Heart, though!
Heart is magic—
through suffering, it heals.
The more the loss,
the more the art.
Take heart! Take heart!
The more its loss, the more it feels.
COMMENTARY
Oy, oh boy, olé, hurray,
yay and ick and nix!
Words and ways
in such array.
Life is quite a mix!
SUPPLY DEMAND
Muse, don’t be so stingy!
Don’t play games with me.
When you give me nothing,
how poetic can I be?
Is this curse, or help, or dare?
All you give me is plain air!
Are you teaching, craftily,
how creative I can be?
BACKTRACKING
You relied on me.
I relied on you.
So how did we arrive
in this pickle; in this stew?
SORRY, BUD!
Howdy, Duty—
steady friend
whom I neglect
again again.
090516
IT’S THE
STUPID ECONOMY
What works?
What works?
What works?
Tell me—do you know?
You don’t?
You don’t?
You don’t?
Ah, well—so apropos!
***
Words and Moods
***
090515
LET ME TELL YOU A STORY
Words are warmest
and most sharable
when in form of a parable.
090514
MUMBLED
The more my life gets tumbled,
the more my home gets jumbled.
Ditto for my mind.
Ooh, my jumbled, tumbled, crumbled mind.
090513
NEXT AISLE OVER, OVERHEARD
I just don't understand him:
he has no idea, no awareness,
no clue whatsoever
of how oblivious he is to my needs.
TODAY’S TRAFFIC
Take eggs with you
when you drive?
They'll be scrambled
when you arrive.
090512
NEGATIVE BALANCE
How long will it take
to techwrite this proposal?
Much, much more
than there is at my disposal.
STOLEN VIRTUE
We can be so cheerful
when we get our way.
When another does our work,
we can laugh and play.
We can be so giving—
when some others pay.
090511
ALCHEMIZING
Milking my mortality;
mourning morosely
(mostly to myself); moping;
manufacturing melodrama—
Making myself laugh!
***
090515
LET ME TELL YOU A STORY
Words are warmest
and most sharable
when in form of a parable.
090514
MUMBLED
The more my life gets tumbled,
the more my home gets jumbled.
Ditto for my mind.
Ooh, my jumbled, tumbled, crumbled mind.
090513
NEXT AISLE OVER, OVERHEARD
I just don't understand him:
he has no idea, no awareness,
no clue whatsoever
of how oblivious he is to my needs.
TODAY’S TRAFFIC
Take eggs with you
when you drive?
They'll be scrambled
when you arrive.
090512
NEGATIVE BALANCE
How long will it take
to techwrite this proposal?
Much, much more
than there is at my disposal.
STOLEN VIRTUE
We can be so cheerful
when we get our way.
When another does our work,
we can laugh and play.
We can be so giving—
when some others pay.
090511
ALCHEMIZING
Milking my mortality;
mourning morosely
(mostly to myself); moping;
manufacturing melodrama—
Making myself laugh!
***
Blooms and Bugs
***
090510
MOTHER-NATURE'S DAY
In bloom today,
where my path goes;
honeysuckle and
cherokee rose.
090509
ON SECOND THOUGHT
Careful what you ask for!
Snareful's what you get!
To undo a wish fulfilled,
no genie's been born yet.
090509
CARPE POEM
Fingers on keys,
mind on the day—
may there be, please,
a "pome" on the way.
090508
NO LONGER THE "BEES' KNEES"
Latest symptom
of beekeeper woes;
having to count all those
little bees' toes.
090507
FLY BY
Fly-buzzed
or -bugged?
Well, why not try
writing a poem on the fly?
090506
SPRINGY
Trees have frothed out
green and growy.
Cloud-puffs in blue skies are doughy;
flowers showy; breezes blowy.
Grass is green
and almost mowy.
WELL REWARDED
We ate lunch late to celebrate
the triumphs of our day;
helping other workers
(the help, itself, our pay).
***
090510
MOTHER-NATURE'S DAY
In bloom today,
where my path goes;
honeysuckle and
cherokee rose.
090509
ON SECOND THOUGHT
Careful what you ask for!
Snareful's what you get!
To undo a wish fulfilled,
no genie's been born yet.
090509
CARPE POEM
Fingers on keys,
mind on the day—
may there be, please,
a "pome" on the way.
090508
NO LONGER THE "BEES' KNEES"
Latest symptom
of beekeeper woes;
having to count all those
little bees' toes.
090507
FLY BY
Fly-buzzed
or -bugged?
Well, why not try
writing a poem on the fly?
090506
SPRINGY
Trees have frothed out
green and growy.
Cloud-puffs in blue skies are doughy;
flowers showy; breezes blowy.
Grass is green
and almost mowy.
WELL REWARDED
We ate lunch late to celebrate
the triumphs of our day;
helping other workers
(the help, itself, our pay).
***
Accomplishing
***
090505
IN SUM
maybe when you’re dead maybe then
they will take a look at the words you
wrote at the sum total isn’t that redundant
of all the hours of effort and creation
of whatever caliber maybe when you’re
dead they will even study it as an arc of
output that provides insight into a
corresponding trajectory of human
wonder-ecstatsy-dejection-demise-etc
maybe when you’re dead your work
will become a cautionary or laudatory tale
and will thereby serve a purpose and you
will have accomplished the good in the
world that you intended though perhaps
not in the way you intended and maybe
when you’re dead it will be a good thing
altogether
LIFE CYCLE OF A BUSINESS
1. Not busy, no money.
2. Busy, no money.
3. Busy, money.
4. Not busy, money.
5. Never been there.
090504
MELODRAMA QUEEN
Givest thou me
some work to do;
else I bid thee, World,
adieu.
PARTY OF THREE
A fried-peach dessert,
SO worth the money!
Then we added ice cream.
Then we added honey.
090503
RETICENT
As I take
some other person’s
hand to shake—
over there
stands the friend
I want to make.
PRE-LAUNCH
Four eager birdlets
with eyes black-bright
peer from their nest,
stretching toward flight.
090502
IN PRAISE OF PEN
In every writer’s life, no doubt,
there comes a time of writing drought.
But—there’s nothing like a good fine pen
to make one want to write again.
REPORT
The poet wrote,
and she won prizes.
Her work—one loves,
another despises.
Her poems—one or two
make the rest worth sifting through.
090501
INCONGRUOUS
A tech-school marquee
near the four-lane is wooing:
Come get your degree!
We train in horseshoeing!
***
090505
IN SUM
maybe when you’re dead maybe then
they will take a look at the words you
wrote at the sum total isn’t that redundant
of all the hours of effort and creation
of whatever caliber maybe when you’re
dead they will even study it as an arc of
output that provides insight into a
corresponding trajectory of human
wonder-ecstatsy-dejection-demise-etc
maybe when you’re dead your work
will become a cautionary or laudatory tale
and will thereby serve a purpose and you
will have accomplished the good in the
world that you intended though perhaps
not in the way you intended and maybe
when you’re dead it will be a good thing
altogether
LIFE CYCLE OF A BUSINESS
1. Not busy, no money.
2. Busy, no money.
3. Busy, money.
4. Not busy, money.
5. Never been there.
090504
MELODRAMA QUEEN
Givest thou me
some work to do;
else I bid thee, World,
adieu.
PARTY OF THREE
A fried-peach dessert,
SO worth the money!
Then we added ice cream.
Then we added honey.
090503
RETICENT
As I take
some other person’s
hand to shake—
over there
stands the friend
I want to make.
PRE-LAUNCH
Four eager birdlets
with eyes black-bright
peer from their nest,
stretching toward flight.
090502
IN PRAISE OF PEN
In every writer’s life, no doubt,
there comes a time of writing drought.
But—there’s nothing like a good fine pen
to make one want to write again.
REPORT
The poet wrote,
and she won prizes.
Her work—one loves,
another despises.
Her poems—one or two
make the rest worth sifting through.
090501
INCONGRUOUS
A tech-school marquee
near the four-lane is wooing:
Come get your degree!
We train in horseshoeing!
***
Friday, May 1, 2009
Birds and Words
***
090430
RELEASE
Let it rain!
Break,
you stone-gray dome!
Wind howl!
Thunder growl!
Let it rain!
…now that I
am home.
090429
RE-DO
My long-hair “do”
was such a mess;
I had to learn
to “do” with less.
090428
BRIGHT
Yellow finch
rides dandelion down—
to ground,
to feed.
FORMULAIC
ONE snag (of needing)
plus TWO (of being needed)
equals THREE (of needing to be needed).
Result?
All caution goes unheeded.
090427
2CMPLX!
Daily life
in this techno-nation
is one long exercise
in frustration.
090426
I KNOW WHY THE
CAGED BIRDS FLING
Our finches have lettuce—
lettuce to spare;
lettuce they’ve eaten
and flung everywhere—
in obvious answer
to their “Lettuce, pray!”
prayer.
090425
INFORMATION IN FORMATION
If you can march, a step, a step, a step,
and keep your words in sync, and blank your verse
but not your brain; if you can keep that pace,
yet, somehow, keep the sense from falling out;
if you can drill until the cadence, beat by beat,
enrhythms to the pulsing of your veins
and overtakes each waking state of mind—
I bow, like iambs, to such great command;
in highest honor, I salute your feet!
BLANK EXPRESSION
Blank verse is such a lie or paradox—
no line, by rule, may end with the same sound
as any other nearby one; and yet,
just look!—you’ll find, in it, no end of rhyme!
EXERCISED
uh-ONE, uh-TWO, uh-THREE, uh-FOUR, uh-FIVE.
uh-ONE, uh-TWO, uh-THREE, uh-FOUR, uh-GENN.
This cadence, and the length of line: uh-NUFF!
My little thoughts can’t stand the strain and STRETCH—
and rhymeless verse just makes me want to—UH!
090424
UNFAILINGLY
All I ask for
is supplied me.
All I ask for
is, “Surprise me!”
090423
CLEAN-UP CREWS
Buzzards come in brown or black,
but all of them are green.
Buzzards take a lot of flack
for keeping our world clean!
090422
DELIGHTS OF THE DAY
Hair styled
by a superb technician.
Shaking hands
with a magician.
STORAGE
My garage is full
and so, I posit:
no room for a car?
It’s really a closet.
090421
UNDRESSING FOR SUCCESS
I planned to be a work-at-home
so pared down all my clothes,
and just when I got comfy,
Life said, “Go and get exposed!”
090420
LIFE VEERS
After years
of tears and toils,
Susan is hot!
Who now jeers
that a watched pot
never Boyles?!
090419
MULTI MINI-MESSAGES
Weekends are
so quickly frittered
when you dwell
among the twittered.
090418
QUEEN OF THWARTS
you needed me
to make you
my priority
then
craftily
you saw to it
that could not be
090417
MEND AT WORK
Deep, deep underground
(where baddies roam
and scaries lurk)
my excavating mind's at work.
090416
BLIND SIGHTED
Emma went out again in the night
or so we thought—gave us a fright!
You have to look out for a cat with no sight.
***
090430
RELEASE
Let it rain!
Break,
you stone-gray dome!
Wind howl!
Thunder growl!
Let it rain!
…now that I
am home.
090429
RE-DO
My long-hair “do”
was such a mess;
I had to learn
to “do” with less.
090428
BRIGHT
Yellow finch
rides dandelion down—
to ground,
to feed.
FORMULAIC
ONE snag (of needing)
plus TWO (of being needed)
equals THREE (of needing to be needed).
Result?
All caution goes unheeded.
090427
2CMPLX!
Daily life
in this techno-nation
is one long exercise
in frustration.
090426
I KNOW WHY THE
CAGED BIRDS FLING
Our finches have lettuce—
lettuce to spare;
lettuce they’ve eaten
and flung everywhere—
in obvious answer
to their “Lettuce, pray!”
prayer.
090425
INFORMATION IN FORMATION
If you can march, a step, a step, a step,
and keep your words in sync, and blank your verse
but not your brain; if you can keep that pace,
yet, somehow, keep the sense from falling out;
if you can drill until the cadence, beat by beat,
enrhythms to the pulsing of your veins
and overtakes each waking state of mind—
I bow, like iambs, to such great command;
in highest honor, I salute your feet!
BLANK EXPRESSION
Blank verse is such a lie or paradox—
no line, by rule, may end with the same sound
as any other nearby one; and yet,
just look!—you’ll find, in it, no end of rhyme!
EXERCISED
uh-ONE, uh-TWO, uh-THREE, uh-FOUR, uh-FIVE.
uh-ONE, uh-TWO, uh-THREE, uh-FOUR, uh-GENN.
This cadence, and the length of line: uh-NUFF!
My little thoughts can’t stand the strain and STRETCH—
and rhymeless verse just makes me want to—UH!
090424
UNFAILINGLY
All I ask for
is supplied me.
All I ask for
is, “Surprise me!”
090423
CLEAN-UP CREWS
Buzzards come in brown or black,
but all of them are green.
Buzzards take a lot of flack
for keeping our world clean!
090422
DELIGHTS OF THE DAY
Hair styled
by a superb technician.
Shaking hands
with a magician.
STORAGE
My garage is full
and so, I posit:
no room for a car?
It’s really a closet.
090421
UNDRESSING FOR SUCCESS
I planned to be a work-at-home
so pared down all my clothes,
and just when I got comfy,
Life said, “Go and get exposed!”
090420
LIFE VEERS
After years
of tears and toils,
Susan is hot!
Who now jeers
that a watched pot
never Boyles?!
090419
MULTI MINI-MESSAGES
Weekends are
so quickly frittered
when you dwell
among the twittered.
090418
QUEEN OF THWARTS
you needed me
to make you
my priority
then
craftily
you saw to it
that could not be
090417
MEND AT WORK
Deep, deep underground
(where baddies roam
and scaries lurk)
my excavating mind's at work.
090416
BLIND SIGHTED
Emma went out again in the night
or so we thought—gave us a fright!
You have to look out for a cat with no sight.
***
Love and Lunacy
***
090415
L’ESSENTIEL EST INVISIBLE
Today, when speaking to my friends,
I closed my eyes ...until the end.
I opened them with such a start!
I'd been speaking from the heart.
090414
MAYOR AND GUEST (for Bob)
When the conference was done
I savored most in memory
the human kindness of the one
who smiled and held my chair for me.
090413
SOUND OF GRACE (for David)
No wayfaring stranger—
nor poor in any way—am I.
Once lost, now found,
I revel in the rich embrace
of precious and amazing grace—
How sweet the sound!
[BIRTHDAY CARD]
Birthdays have their time
and place—
There’s no doubting
that one bit.
Some of them
deserve embrace.
Some of them
are full of…
[inside]
…grace.
090412
SPRING FLING
Welcome to your party?
Thanks,
it’s been a while
since I dressed up fancy;
since I wore a smile.
090411
CORRESPONDENCE
Year after year,
I wrote to the air.
Dreaming (like bear)
I lay in my lair.
When I peeked out,
it gave me a scare.
Out in the daylight,
out in the glare;
if I go out,
how will I fare?
But—kinship is there!
For that, I will dare.
090410
POMES 5¢ (forDusty)
Hmmf! Before you
go and decide
to peddle a book,
stand on some
street corner awhile
selling apples.
BUNNY HOPPEN (for Michelle)
When there’s somethin’ to be done—
Leapin’ in!
Springin’ into action.
Jumpin’ in to help.
Creatin’ satisfaction.
Spreadin’ round some mirth.
What is all that Hoppenworth?
Almost anything on earth!
090409
STRAW VOTE
Old haybales are arguing
heatedly
(in the otherwise empty
summer pasture)
for and against the proposition
that the absence of livestock
is permanent.
090408
LEARNING GRATITUDE
What I had is now supplanted.
What I had, I took for granted.
Night sits heavy on my chest.
Morning comes, but brings no rest.
All it takes to be so tense
is something to compare against.
What I have will be supplanted.
Nothing will I take for granted.
090407
EMMA’S EYES
Emma’s eyes
are clouding—
each day; less clear,
less bright.
(Near death,
when just a kitten,
Emma lost her sight.)
Now she “sees”
in other ways
as her eyes grow white.
Emmas’ eyes:
they help me see
all that is—as right.
SELF-DECEIVED (for Pam)
Said the writer:
Poetry
I do not do—
I can’t say “boo!”
to a haiku.
090406
WHO WANTS TO KNOW
What this means
I’ll come to see,
or not:
that’s the deal.
I may not be immortal.
I may not even be real.
But, scanning through the
portal of my memory
brings a certain certainty:
I have always felt like “me.”
090405
TEA PARTY
Come,
please,
soon,
to be with me;
to share
the happiness of tea.
090404 (for Gary)
GOOD NIGHT,
JUNG LOVERS,
WHEREVER
YOU ARE
I wish we may,
I wish we might
dream-dream-dream
good dreams tonight.
YOU BET YOUR LIFE
Life is abundant.
There is plenty for all.
Life is simple and fun.
Don’t worry. Be happy.
Follow your bliss.
How is a person supposed to
deal with ideas like these?
To test them, you would first
have to adopt faith in them,
and then continually
reinterpret their basic terms:
abundant, simple, bliss, life.
That would take lifelong commitment.
Is it worth the gamble?
???????????????????????????????
Epilogue: The first version of this poem
was lost to a computer crash. Dang-
dang-dang, I said, (or something like that)
as just-written words evaporated and
likely repair bills loomed.
As usual, life was offering me an opportunity
to answer affirmatively: Do you really
want to live in the way you propose?
090403
USE YOUR “INSIDE VOICE” (for Sandy)
A-gor-a-phobia.
It’s some fancy therapy-name
that makes it sound like you’re afraid
of being a bull-fighter.
Well, my bull is my brain, I guess.
But I’m getting to be a real matador.
Hey, I can even teach you a few things.
Last week, I had a major triumph.
You should have seen my doctor’s face
when I told her.
“I went outside on my own,” I said,
and not just to come here.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Ha! Yes I did.
Went outside to a party.
A cocktail party!”
She was speechless.
I don’t think she believed me.
So I let her know that I have
therapy ways of my own.
“It was so easy,
once I paid attention to my
Inside Voice.
It told me to go out my door
and just watch my feet move.
A while later,
it said to follow some other feet
that were going inside a building.
I came to a room where everybody
was making a lot of noise.
That scared me—a lot—
being in the middle of everything.
But I found a chair, and the voice said, sit down.
Then it said,
turn yourself into a tunafish sandwich.
It was great: nobody even noticed me.”
Doc was impressed—
said she’d never heard of
Tuna Stealth before.
090402
SINCE YOU ASKED
The reason I’m home so early
from the “read-around” is this:
they told me they’re a “writers” group
and they don’t want poetry anymore.
Wait! Sorry! Wrong!
April Fool’s was yesterday.
(But, it’s nice to see you so riled.)
090401
SPRING SPREE
Lunacy rules—
it’s April, fools!
***
090415
L’ESSENTIEL EST INVISIBLE
Today, when speaking to my friends,
I closed my eyes ...until the end.
I opened them with such a start!
I'd been speaking from the heart.
090414
MAYOR AND GUEST (for Bob)
When the conference was done
I savored most in memory
the human kindness of the one
who smiled and held my chair for me.
090413
SOUND OF GRACE (for David)
No wayfaring stranger—
nor poor in any way—am I.
Once lost, now found,
I revel in the rich embrace
of precious and amazing grace—
How sweet the sound!
[BIRTHDAY CARD]
Birthdays have their time
and place—
There’s no doubting
that one bit.
Some of them
deserve embrace.
Some of them
are full of…
[inside]
…grace.
090412
SPRING FLING
Welcome to your party?
Thanks,
it’s been a while
since I dressed up fancy;
since I wore a smile.
090411
CORRESPONDENCE
Year after year,
I wrote to the air.
Dreaming (like bear)
I lay in my lair.
When I peeked out,
it gave me a scare.
Out in the daylight,
out in the glare;
if I go out,
how will I fare?
But—kinship is there!
For that, I will dare.
090410
POMES 5¢ (forDusty)
Hmmf! Before you
go and decide
to peddle a book,
stand on some
street corner awhile
selling apples.
BUNNY HOPPEN (for Michelle)
When there’s somethin’ to be done—
Leapin’ in!
Springin’ into action.
Jumpin’ in to help.
Creatin’ satisfaction.
Spreadin’ round some mirth.
What is all that Hoppenworth?
Almost anything on earth!
090409
STRAW VOTE
Old haybales are arguing
heatedly
(in the otherwise empty
summer pasture)
for and against the proposition
that the absence of livestock
is permanent.
090408
LEARNING GRATITUDE
What I had is now supplanted.
What I had, I took for granted.
Night sits heavy on my chest.
Morning comes, but brings no rest.
All it takes to be so tense
is something to compare against.
What I have will be supplanted.
Nothing will I take for granted.
090407
EMMA’S EYES
Emma’s eyes
are clouding—
each day; less clear,
less bright.
(Near death,
when just a kitten,
Emma lost her sight.)
Now she “sees”
in other ways
as her eyes grow white.
Emmas’ eyes:
they help me see
all that is—as right.
SELF-DECEIVED (for Pam)
Said the writer:
Poetry
I do not do—
I can’t say “boo!”
to a haiku.
090406
WHO WANTS TO KNOW
What this means
I’ll come to see,
or not:
that’s the deal.
I may not be immortal.
I may not even be real.
But, scanning through the
portal of my memory
brings a certain certainty:
I have always felt like “me.”
090405
TEA PARTY
Come,
please,
soon,
to be with me;
to share
the happiness of tea.
090404 (for Gary)
GOOD NIGHT,
JUNG LOVERS,
WHEREVER
YOU ARE
I wish we may,
I wish we might
dream-dream-dream
good dreams tonight.
YOU BET YOUR LIFE
Life is abundant.
There is plenty for all.
Life is simple and fun.
Don’t worry. Be happy.
Follow your bliss.
How is a person supposed to
deal with ideas like these?
To test them, you would first
have to adopt faith in them,
and then continually
reinterpret their basic terms:
abundant, simple, bliss, life.
That would take lifelong commitment.
Is it worth the gamble?
???????????????????????????????
Epilogue: The first version of this poem
was lost to a computer crash. Dang-
dang-dang, I said, (or something like that)
as just-written words evaporated and
likely repair bills loomed.
As usual, life was offering me an opportunity
to answer affirmatively: Do you really
want to live in the way you propose?
090403
USE YOUR “INSIDE VOICE” (for Sandy)
A-gor-a-phobia.
It’s some fancy therapy-name
that makes it sound like you’re afraid
of being a bull-fighter.
Well, my bull is my brain, I guess.
But I’m getting to be a real matador.
Hey, I can even teach you a few things.
Last week, I had a major triumph.
You should have seen my doctor’s face
when I told her.
“I went outside on my own,” I said,
and not just to come here.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Ha! Yes I did.
Went outside to a party.
A cocktail party!”
She was speechless.
I don’t think she believed me.
So I let her know that I have
therapy ways of my own.
“It was so easy,
once I paid attention to my
Inside Voice.
It told me to go out my door
and just watch my feet move.
A while later,
it said to follow some other feet
that were going inside a building.
I came to a room where everybody
was making a lot of noise.
That scared me—a lot—
being in the middle of everything.
But I found a chair, and the voice said, sit down.
Then it said,
turn yourself into a tunafish sandwich.
It was great: nobody even noticed me.”
Doc was impressed—
said she’d never heard of
Tuna Stealth before.
090402
SINCE YOU ASKED
The reason I’m home so early
from the “read-around” is this:
they told me they’re a “writers” group
and they don’t want poetry anymore.
Wait! Sorry! Wrong!
April Fool’s was yesterday.
(But, it’s nice to see you so riled.)
090401
SPRING SPREE
Lunacy rules—
it’s April, fools!
***
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