Rhymes and ramblings



This is the kind of poetry the poetically ungifted write. Still it all expresses a bit of who I am and my world view. Putting this personal material out on this venue seems decidedly safer than putting my life out on Facebook. I am a sceptic apparently. Anyway,





Snikker...
Wood...
Color...
Home

woke



Blowing dirty air, our eyes water.
Atune to dissonance,
Machines inhabit our ears.
Smellless, tasteless now,
Chewing from memory.
Our mask-muffled words blend the fever-droplet air,
Meeting the meaningless
Pronouncements of the powerful,
Unmasked, at full volume.
We wake anxious, work anxious,
We unwillingly idle, isolate, drift.
Too swift the changes,
Stoking our fears, slowing the response
The necessary is mistaken for the radical,
The rear-view mirror showing fire and flood.
Too late we run in the wrong direction.
The future wobbles, yet
Even children know there is no Plan B.
Get woke, world.


wheat



Ochre fields, murmurous, undulating,
Seabed under an ocean of blue heat.
Numberless millions, lean shafts,
Spiked curling heads hang kernel-heavy,
Lowered in an endless mantra of whispered golden words,
A prayer of sustenance.

Still roots shiver, listening in their dark world
To the oncoming rumble of the thresher
Beheading, shredding, casting away,
Gathering within the favored grain of oceanic plain--
Staff of life, bread upon the water.



cold



Cold is crack-thin and Insinuates itself in
Through vertices of wood, metal and glass,
Sliding under molecular bridges,
A frigid river that flows past
Upholstery and stockinged feet,
Up-ridges In a cool-down world.



bond



Parent and child, first bond, first impression of the world
A linking of expectation, love languishes into disappointment, disillusion.
In time, we are resigned
Reunited, we are the intersect of a design
Those whom my eyes see first, whom their eyes see last.



carmine



Roses are not red
Roses pulse deep carmine,
Hue from the cosmic warm spectrum.
Think blood dizzy with oxygen.
Think apple of seduction near the lips of Eve,
Now a glint of interest in Adam’s troubled thoughts.
Think soft orchard scent rising out of a fruitful moment.
Rose hearts well up, enfolded in a confusion of velvet,
Spilling carmine bliss.



friend



You reside in the light of my mind,
Sitting in a room of thread and color,
Shape and pattern, movement and ideas.
Humming sewing machine, humming a tune,
Home, you are homing
You reside lightly.



regrets



I.
There are times in the dark when I unwillingly recall
Hard times in life, feel betrayed by all.
Truth can be dark like a night without light.
Neither stars nor silver moon can soften insight:
Relative to hurt, before days wane done,
I’ll love family, cherish friends, and betray every one.

II.
Unwillingly meant, before I’m aware,
Cuts and denials, judgments and slurs,
The chance to build up what was briefly there
Passes by, then comes regret of my words.



tea



Chemicals oozing, mitochondria schmoozing,
Cerebrum in its orb never snoozing.
Molecular mass, animated and imaginative,
The sport of gods, yet not wholly their fool,
Every fluid, vessel, and bone collaborates
In this sapien's perfect tool.

Not alpha and omega, though micro-light years apart,
Electrons coursing, synapses firing,
Neurons' neon arcs and vectors impart
In nanoseconds messages zoom through ingenious wiring.
Inside this soft worn wrapper, nearly hairless,
How marvelous while sitting at tea,
Sipping, savoring the light, the airiness,
I inhabit the universe of me.



didjeridu



Basso profundo it blew, the didjeridu,
Like grass combed by the wind,
Like white ash from firelight into blackness will ascend,
The sound seems never to end.
The source of the note is highly remote,
The rhythm not steady nor clear.
It speaks to the sacred night cave or to light
Where by sun-dappled stone stands one deer.
The magic of music, the source which endears,
Is not only sound to enchant the ears,
But a silence between, before and behind,
A placid rain to replenish the mind.



seasons



Seasons will change.
Salads become hot soups,
Spices adjusted to shadows and chill.
Don a sweater, a scarf,
Take a walk in lazy-angled light, while
White high-blown mares' tails and
Slow-moving buffalo backs
Roam endless cobalt sky layered over ancient seabed.
Tread on crisp grass with evening heads aflame,
Then surprise! One silver star bedded on Rembrant blue!
Sweet peppered scent of hay
Cut, dried, rolled tightly just today--
An argument for pastoral well-being.
Fuzzy caterpillars looping at bold pace
Teach the grace of autumn.
Leaves tipped in gold, age-spots on the old.
Seasons will change.



see me



I am the thorn protecting the fragile rose,
The gadfly who speaks truth to youth,
But also the shy moon reflecting the bold sun,
I am the bottle that shapes the sweet wine,
As well as the bee greening the vine.
'
See also this.
I am the hand smashing the vase,
The limber tongue which lies and denies.
I lead the skirmish that starts the bloody war.
I am the shovel burying the bee.
I am the bird with a silenced song.

Hear this.
Give me the day to withstand the night,
The summer to weather the winter.
Truth at my side, be my guide.
Let me hold the bee and bird gentle in my hand
Look with my soul in my eyes.



Absurd
The world of humanity is absurd.We do not inch forward we run backward facing forwardwe worship technology we lust for the simplistic.We are uncharitable we love Jesus.We save the unborn we shelve the old.We give rights to the unborn we deny them to the mother.We love our pets we hate people.We are amorally inquisitive we are morally judgmental.We embrace cherished myth we smother uncomfortable truth.We wish to immortality we destroy the world.For ever and ever,Amen.


Elder Viewpoint
Looking for the glasses perched on the head,Or the book that somehow was made up in the bed.Can't recall the name or words of a long ago songOr the name of an actor, an old friend, the street where you belong.Cannot taste the savory food which sits upon the plateNor remember with any certitude today's day and date.With the last sip of water, the bladder cries out for relief.Too late to go the distance, it comes---the inevitable leak.Wake up, then get up to pee hours before dawnDrink coffee and stare out the window at the lawn,Which is covered with sparkling hoarfrost, and upon the stepsBlack ice awaits to maim and kill, at best.The boiling pot forgotten atop the red hot burnerWith charred remains smoldering for the not so speedy learner.The clothes which were worn yesterday smell okay for todayEasy to forget one cannot smell anything anyway.It hurts like hell to rise up and to squat pains the knees,The eyes grow cross-eyed reading, and cold drafts make one sneeze.A certain action ispleases you, though you would also do itYour displeasure is much greater when others beat you to it.The rapid chatter of young fold to the slightly hard ot hearingIs like a foreign language your constrained impatience not endearing.Turn on captions or desperately lipp read to watch news or a TV show,But end up reading garble, then try the radio,Which is nothing now but talking, no music to match a mood,And changing stations or cursing the media does no good.So take a break and take the pills which should have been taken that morn.Face the fact of not being intact, yet avoid the self-inflicted scorn.
.People of the Warm Hue
Cotton wasn't king white wasWhite memory takes armsMachine-picked fluffy cotton mattress flatBlack memory abidesFat and sweet like chocolateBaby is not yours, is mineSoap suds tummy the babyWhite on brownBlack braids sculpt tressesRows, bows, beadsMuscles gleam forward strivingGrace loves powerRhythm motions small actsBeing is danceTear track dip where cheek meets churchEyes soul pureStar traffic moves the skyCaught in branchesBlues sing up a red dawnLast note dies, hope is aliveBe equal