A painted room may seem mundane,
A necessary thing.
To help conceal the cracks and peels revealed when walls are bare.
And yet,it is not proud and vain,
To add such coloring,
But, our expression of affections felt when we are there.
8/17/11
Flowers on the guardrail of a parkway running south,
Left there by a mourner who would wish the world to know,
Here the final breath of life ecaped a loved one's mouth,
On this spot a mortal soul surrendered and let go.
See her picture, as I pass in seconds, blurring by,
All she was, and did, and fealt, a glimpse that cannot last.
It would seem each memory is likewise in our minds,
Lives recalled in fleeting, fading, points as we rush past.
Flowers on the guardrail of a parkway running south,
Left there by a mourner who would wish the world to know,
Here the final breath of life ecaped a loved one's mouth,
On this spot a mortal soul surrendered and let go.
See her picture, as I pass in seconds, blurring by,
All she was, and did, and fealt, a glimpse that cannot last.
It would seem each memory is likewise in our minds,
Lives recalled in fleeting, fading, points as we rush past.
8/15/11
A quiet room lit by a single light,
A quiet room lit by a single light,
Serves as my shelter from the raging storms,
A bathysphere amid chaotic tides,
A chrysalis in which my life transforms.
This chamber is a Spartan, sacred place,
Where normal laws and pressures don't apply,
An outwardly reflected inner space,
A dream between the days I live and die.
8/14/11
I hear impassioned voices ring,
From some revival tent nearby,
The sermons boom, the gospels sing,
The proud pronounce and testify.
Their litanies of righteousness,
Were heard by homeless and the poor,
The weary vagrants craving rest,
They too could hear those prayers implore.
The hungry, seeking sustenance,
Received the word and felt the call,
And blessed as they might be by this,
Not one of them was saved at all.
I hear impassioned voices ring,
From some revival tent nearby,
The sermons boom, the gospels sing,
The proud pronounce and testify.
Their litanies of righteousness,
Were heard by homeless and the poor,
The weary vagrants craving rest,
They too could hear those prayers implore.
The hungry, seeking sustenance,
Received the word and felt the call,
And blessed as they might be by this,
Not one of them was saved at all.
8/9/11
Customer Service, among truly worthless of concepts in all of humanity.
If something malfunctions, the user's assumption must be that it isn't as advertised.
And yet we're cajoled to spend hours on hold in the hopes of some magical remedy,
By someone who's trained, not to aid, but explain in new language why we are not satisfied.
Customer Service, among truly worthless of concepts in all of humanity.
If something malfunctions, the user's assumption must be that it isn't as advertised.
And yet we're cajoled to spend hours on hold in the hopes of some magical remedy,
By someone who's trained, not to aid, but explain in new language why we are not satisfied.
8/8/11
A house is just a box we trust to thwart the elements,
To stall and stave as nature's rage assaults relentlessly,
And when the climate's brutal violence breaks this thin defense,
We stand perplexed by unexpected vulnerability.
The stalwart structures we erect are nothing to compare,
With ruthless storms, and all the forms they may precipitate,
All freeze and thaw, all natures laws, which we might find unfair,
Are but rejection of infections to eliminate.
We call it home, but all that's known and reasoned by this earth,
Are lifeless roots which shall pollute, and neither breed nor bud.
Our little box is just a pox, to seek out and reverse.
Thus shingles leak, foundations creak, paint peels, and basements flood.
8/6/11
The rain pores down but does not break,
The heavy, languid heat of day,
Through lightning strikes and thunder shakes,
The torrents fall, but swelter stays.
Although our clothes are soaked and wet,
And tightly cling against our skin,
The atmosphere induces sweat,
And storms call neither cold nor wind.
Inclement weather which we dread,
May often clear to our surprise,
But not all clouds bear silver threads,
Not all dark days yield brighter skies.
Not all dark days yield brighter skies.
8/5/11
Some times we strive and struggle to excel,
Some days we push to prosper and succeed,
When lesser effort serves us just as well,
And fate alone shall grant us all we need.
The buttons are depressed, the levers forced,
To work the great machinery of our lives,
We stand upon the helm to steer the course,
And foolishly believe it's us who drives.
8/3/11
Today another path occurred to me,
And seemed to cause a schism in my soul,
One half pursued a separate destiny,
My other half maintained its current role.
And for an instant both realities,
Were true as any moment foul or fair,
How much of life is what we know will be,
And not a coin descending through midair?
Today another path occurred to me,
And seemed to cause a schism in my soul,
One half pursued a separate destiny,
My other half maintained its current role.
And for an instant both realities,
Were true as any moment foul or fair,
How much of life is what we know will be,
And not a coin descending through midair?
8/1/11
Children in a toy box,
Building what they can,
With wooden blocks and piled rocks,
And mounds of shifting sand.
An elephant, pretends the one,
The other plays a mule,
But neither one sees any fun,
Unless they set the rules.
And so they start to bicker,
The arguments begin,
The wood and stones start getting thrown,
In hopes that one will win.
And thus it ends, this playtime,
Benath dark, stormy skies,
Two babes who cry, blame, and deny,
With sand cast in their eyes.
7/31/11
We tend the gardens in the yard,
And hone our efforts to reclaim,
The weeks where we let down our guard,
From rampant weeds, fed fat by rain.
We gradually take back our land,
We tend and trim. Sweat stings and stains.
We dig and toil and make our stand.
The vagrant vegetation wanes.
And in the end we shall achieve,
A temporary victory,
In time the vines and clustered leaves,
Will cover up the earth we freed.
This battle shall rage on each year,
And long outlive us when we die.
We won't prevail, this much is clear.
Yet we'll be damned if we don't try.
7/30/11
Our little kitten snuck outside,
The basement door was left ajar.
Escaping to the dark of night,
He wandered off and journeyed far.
But soon became confused and lost,
As darkness claimed him for it's own,
His wanderlust brought bitter cost,
And fearful trauma far from home.
The world was larger than he'd thought,
From his safe, sleepy window gaze.
He bravely searched, but all for naught,
His path strayed, aimless and afraid,
Until at last his plight did end,
Fate shined its light and he was saved,
By searching owners and their friends,
And though he'd badly misbehaved,
They cheered and brought him home again,
To where he lounges, plays and feeds,
And dark strange sights don't startle him.
Perhaps a lesson all should heed,
Although there may be pretty views,
And vistas through the window glass,
Consider all there is to lose,
Like simple joys, and little cats.
7/28/11
You would not let a gambler hold your purse,
For he will use its contents as his own,
He'll risk it all on folly, and what's worse,
All profit shall be kept by him alone.
You would not trust a gambler with your life,
For this too would be squandered and misspent.
You'd never give your soul to greed and vice,
And yet, each day we trust the government.
7/27/11
Weeding in the yard again,
In vain attempts to extricate,
Green creeping tangles which offend,
And yet, why do they irritate?
Why do some plants give happiness,
While others cultivate distaste,
Some blooms and shoots shall blossom bliss,
With those adjacent seen as waste.
Do they have not the right to grow,
As those we favor and protect?
They share no care nor love bestowed,
Yet thrive despite our cruel neglect.
Alone, for this tenacious skill,
Should they not somehow be adored?
Alas, the heart loves what it will,
With all else it beholds abhorred.
7/26/11
We stay up later than advised,
And risk exhaustion come the day,
To claim back hours from our lives,
Which work and duty steal away.
This strange rebellion launched against,
Responsibility and time,
Shall yield ironic recompense.
As early morning hours chime,
We celebrate our victory,
In repossessing leisure's prize,
Then pay our dues repeatedly,
The whole next day with bloodshot eyes.
7/25/11
Crickets chirp and peepers cheep,
Among the buzzing katydids,
To pierce the stagnant summer heat,
With brash, chaotic choruses.
An insect song once taught to me,
So long ago when I was young,
The same chaotic melody,
As when, at first, I heard it sung.
This random chatter comforts me,
To know despite how much will change,
Such blissful clicking symphony,
Across the years, sounds just the same.
Across the years, sounds just the same.
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