The New Day

Come around easy
Or come around hard
There is a certain friction
Offered either way
And it offends
The attempt
It challenges the vested
And must be greased
By brow and vein
If it is to clear and unclutter
If it is to save safe
The better morning
Of the new day

 

Hot and Cool

Narrow focus burns hot
Broad focus burns cool
Naked is the better offering
The clearer view of stem and bud
Of hill and way
Deep cover offers shelter to grow
Secret and mature
Hidden with agenda
Goosebumps tingle
And tears fall
Unannounced
Driven deep by
The ovation
The warm hand
Both can revive then reset
Such burn hot and cool

 

 

What a Country

Well I’m sure it was an oversight
But the President failed to mention
In his SOTU speech
Just exactly how good life is
In the U.S. of A.
Such an embarrassment of riches
Our times and circumstance.
I cite for example the fact that
I sit in a warm house in January
Eating Strawberry rhubarb pie.
Yes, you heard that right
Strawberry rhubarb PIE!
There hasn’t been a ripe strawberry
Within a thousand miles in six months
And I just sashayed into the store yesterday
And found one,
No better yet, a half of one
Protected in indestructible plastic
For my dining pleasure
What a country!
And curious by the way
That  you can only eat the stems
As the rest of the plant will kill you!
(Wondering now who made that mistaken discovery?)
So here I sit fat and sassy
But sadly
With empty fork in hand and wonder:
Do you think Amazon Prime could send me
Another pie
And have it here
Day after tomorrow?
And what about pies delivered by
Drones?
What a country.

There is a Tarry

As for me
And as for now
I am sitting still.
And drawn between being still-filled
And being outwardly engaged
I am mindful
Of my human being-ness;
A vessel in need of fulfillment
And a want for times of self-realization.
There is a flow
And there is a tarry in these times
Glassy still
That rides between such tides
Slack and Serene.
And as for now
This is what I know.

 

  

 

 

Red Rocker

The wind is hustling and so
The red rocker deck chair pitches and yaws
And perhaps what was once (or is still to be)
A trace of you, or me
Pitches and sways there?
An atom or two of someone we knew
Slowed to encounter
This chair
This roadside attraction
A way-stop on a longer journey
Paused, resisted, and changed and then
Free again to move with such abandon
Free from being reigned in
Then locked
Bonded in some more solid body
Organic or inorganic.
Time will show such change
Both as loss and gain
And the blowing wind will offer an answer.

 

 

Ripe Fruit

Pick one
They are the ripe fruit of our times
Pick one
Peace, justice, compassion and more
They are on this menu
Pick one
Eat it
Digest it
Not into fearful fat
But to engaged energy
Eat it
Then spit it out
And make it new
Better
So much better
You know how
You know you know...
And if not you
Then who?