April 30, 2016

Dead End

None of us has

as much time as we think.

We have only a few sunrises

to enjoy ourselves, to enjoy others.

We might not be in a hurry,

but we have no time to lose.

Knowing we will die,

how should we live?

Carefully.

(but not fearfully)

What will our last words be?

What will we miss?

Sex is a part of the past.

Sports are too much of

what they’ve always been.

Loud music offends old ears.

Frail legs do not permit dancing.

The spiritual and religious

are personal.

Brief moments are recalled best,

merging the past with the now.

It is all so very mystical,

too much for my thick head to consider.

(age tends to flatten a man)

I do not fear death,

but I am glad I did not die young.

I believe I know what’s coming.

I think I caught a glimpse of it, long ago.

For now, it’s best to try to be kind.

(and hopeful)

April 29, 2016

Haphazard

Roses are not black,

and my name is not Jack.

This is all so very silly,

poems all gone, willy-nilly.

Website lost, helter-skelter,

writers seeking safer shelter,

moaning with abandon,

poesy suddenly just random.

So we’ll simply have to word play,

hit-or-miss, any old way.

Yes, I know, it’s only static,

accidental, just erratic,

failed postings, only fecklessness,

slipshod writing, utter recklessness.

Please allow it simply stated,

It was unpremeditated.

April 28, 2016

Important – Handle with Care

This is a used body.

It comes with not one spare part.

One liver, one spleen,

two lungs, two kidneys, and

unless you are a Gallifreyan,

one life, one heart.

It is the owner’s duty

to keep it in good health,

keep the mind strong and clear,

regardless of one’s wealth.

Should the owner experience

any difficulty in seeing,

do not contact tech support, rather

tap into the center of one’s being.

There is nothing more

these instructions can teach.

Life flows from the inside out,

with abundant energy to reach

one’s destination in this

spin of the wheel,

no internal battles required,

regardless of how you feel.

Batteries not included.

April 27. 2016 Redux

Yo-Yo

Started the
Take Off Easy Diet Plan
about 30 years ago.
So far,
I've lost
about 1500 pounds.

April 27, 2016

Taking Off For Bliss, 8-30-14

Jess and Andy, under a tree,

R-A-I-N-I-N-G.

Out came the sun, this time to stay,

shining in sunlight, a fun wedding day.

Friends and family, gathered in the park,

headed up for drinks before it got dark.

Laughter abounding, as should be the norm,

children all dancing, the band in rare form.

Parents relieved that the day had gone well,

no one unhappy, at least so you’d tell.

Four generations in photos that day,

couldn’t have been better, that’s what we all say.

April 26, 2016

Coupling

You’re so lucky,
I said.
Why,
she asked.

Because
You have had me
to love.
She laughed.

No, really,
I am so in need of love
And
You have loved so well.

I tried,
She said.
Oh, way more than try.
You did so well.

And now?
Who will you love?
Me,
she said, at last.

April 25, 2016

An Exercise in Fulfillment

I am done

with the big things,

trying to get

the meaning of life.

All that’s left

is to try

to be kind,

as often as possible.

Small tasks matter.

April 24, 2016

Remembering to smile

In my search for spirituality,

my monkey mind gets so busy,

challenging me to forget,

daring me to think that

Spirit is somewhere else,

that I am separate and apart.

Then I recall,

the infinite 
also includes me.

Then I remember

to laugh.

Oh to be a child in the ocean.

Smells good.

Sounds good.

Feels good.

Is good.

April 23, 2016

A Husband’s lament

Why in the world must she have so many shoes?

Such an enormous obsession.

Why this collection did she choose?

Why in the world must she have so many shoes?

It’s as if she didn’t buy them, she’d have something to lose,

feel lost without them in her possession.

Why in the world must she have so many shoes?

Such an enormous obsession.

April 22, 2016

Startling

It can be breathtaking,

even alarming,

to listen to one’s echoes,

consult one’s memories.

It might even be surprising

to recall that which was forgotten,

admit that it was suppressed.

It can be staggering to say out loud,

those words based in reality,

ones rooted in blood and bone,

in heart and mind.

And so one writes, in order to discover

what one does not know how to say.

It is necessary to go to the center,

to the hot, steaming core,

to get face to face

with grief, sorrow, love,

to ask oneself,

what am I not willing to reveal?

April 21, 2016

From “Blandeur”, by Kay Ryan

If it please God,

may we dance with freedom,

write from our heart,

laugh with abandon,

sing with our soul,

paint with no rules,

all without judgement.

If it please God,

may our friends forgive us

our social blunders,

and our verbal mistakes,

and our nosey intrusions,

and our boldfaced honesty,

and our angry outbursts,

all without guilt.

If it please God,

may we sleep without nightmares,

eat what we want to,

and stand naked by mirrors,

play with our pets,

while yipping and purring,

and act on our curiosity,

all without fear.

If it please God.

April 20, 2016

Understated Triolet

Some things simply should never be said,

no matter how much one wants to reveal,

should honesty fill a dear friend with dread.

Some things simply should never be said,

letters are worse, re-read and re-read,

No matter how truthful, no matter how real,

some things simply should never be said,

no matter how much one wants to reveal.

April 19, 2016

The Other Side of the Pillow

Cats are way cooler than dogs,

with rituals and gestures,

less obvious, more ironic,

in the way that hipsters

out-cool hippies.

Thinking about that,

it comes to mind that

spring is way cooler than summer,

with breezes and colors,

less potent, more subtle,

in the way that autumn

out-cools winter.

And hey, snowmen

are way cooler than sand castles.

But, that goes without saying.

April 18, 2016

A Routine Day at the Triolet Office

If you’re not angry with me,

would you please tell your face.

I’d feel safer then, you see.

If you’re not angry with me,

it’d suit me to a T,

and at least I’d know my  place.

If you’re not angry with me,

would you please tell your face.

April 17, 2016 Redux

All of man’s seasons

bring natural inventions,

peace the best of them.

One is not separate

from the earth at any time.

With peace, all are one.

No dark without light.

No seasons without changes.

No hope without peace.

Spring is not summer.

Pickles can’t be cucumbers.

Peace is who one is.

There’s but one question,

summer, winter, spring and fall.

Will one work for peace?

April 17, 2016

Today is International Haiku Poetry Day!

About the Haiku

Always three lines,
five-seven-five,
some say a focus on
nature must thrive.
Others insist
a season
we see,
unrhymed slice of life
with epiphany.
A pivotal point
‘tween lines two and three,
all said in one breath
with great brevity.
Present tense mandated,
minimalist view, but
if you use humor, it
becomes senryu.
Some think a hybrid
form should be free
of anyone’s mandates
for natural plea
I say, just write,
describe but don’t tell
unless it’s a haibun,
which works just as well.

April 16, 2016

Athens Market Café

The first time we went,

it was for the food.

The second time it was

for the food, and for Nick.

The next three hundred times

have been for parea, for comfort.

I can make an equal pastitsio,

every Greek can,

so long as they use

their yia-yia’s recipe.

Same thing goes for

moussaka, horta, salata horiatiki

and avgolemono.

Well, maybe not the latter, but

surely yes, the lentil soup.

What I can’t get at home is

Nick’s beaming smile,

arms open wide,

assurances that there’s always

the “family chairs” in the kitchen

when the place is packed.

The tastes, the smells, the music,

the ease, all

evoking memories of Sunday afternoons,

with thia’s and theos and cousins all around.

There’s nothing like going out

and being home.

April 15, 2016

Not Done Yet

Getting long in the tooth now,

and this old bodily vessel has

been taking on water for some time,

it’s flat-out well-used, as nature intended.

Not ready to hand in my papers, though,

nor be donned in my gaudiest clothes,

to hear from afar

the lavish praises of my loved ones,

ring in the next turn of the wheel,

join my brothers on the wall

of the dearly departed.

Nope.

Not ready to go yet.

Got too much work left to do.

There’s apologies to make,

finances to secure,

letters to burn,

estates to settle.

Need to pass along the passwords,

label all the keys,

blacklist all the accounts social,

use up all the words

intended for my use.

April 14, 2016

Just proving I am not obsessive.

Taking a time out today

April 13, 2016

Last Call at the Poetry Bar & Grill

Here’s a toast to all of the

poets, versifiers, bards and minstrels,

laureates or not,

and let’s not forget their muses,

their sources, the seeds of great works.

All the alliterative assonance, allegory

and anapest has been spilled,

the tables littered with similes, imagery,

metaphor and points of view.

This is a place for everyday scribes,

 full of simple rhymes, and free verse,

no villanelles, sestinas or sonnets welcome.

And don’t get me started on onomatopoeia.

So drink up, my friends,

tomorrow’s another day,

another PAD prompt on the way,

but now we pack it in, slide into

the denouement, scramble for a climax,

say goodnight to meter and foot,

it’s last call at the

Poetry Bar & Grill.

April 12, 2016

Looney Tunes

When we were kids,

we were oh so serious

about playing war.

We had the leftover helmets

from the big war

our fathers lived through,

the one some of them survived.

A few of us had Red Ryder BB guns,

a misfit for our silly games,

but more real than the sticks

the rest of us carried.

When we were teens,

some of us in our twenties,

we were still kids,

even though we thought

we were men,

just because we were

far from home.

Some of us thought

we were still playing war,

though most of us knew

it was a deadly serious sport.

Now that we are old,

we know how foolish we were.

How silly of us

to think that any of it

was ever a game.

April 11, 2016

Therapy

There is truth in pain,

in painful memories,

and both cannot be

avoided.

Can’t walk around them,

you have to go through them,

if you want to get to

the other side.

For me, I wish to be

seduced by the truth,

not all in one serving,

just a slice or dollop

at a time.

I need to taste it, smell it,

feel and savor

what new knowledge,

maybe wisdom,

can be gleaned.

So I sit now,

hopefully,

in relaxed readiness,

defenses down,

more interested in

being wise

than in

being safe.

April 10, 2016

Nostalgia

It’s probably unwise

to live too much

in the past,

especially mired in

swampy regret,

or pining for

a simpler time.

Still, there’s at least

as much pleasure

as sadness there,

memories of happy places,

reflections which can

set a soul aquiver with

hope and purpose.

It need not be all

Tear-jerking schmaltz,

riddled with

wistful yearning.

There’s equal opportunity for

existential meaning,

for mood elevation,

in the be here now moment.

One might reminisce,

but also remember that

spring does not

really become summer.

Each season remains

in its own place.

April 9, 2106

Hide and Seek

Hardly an outlaw,

I have a secret lair

or two, (or three or four,

to be fair).

I am a man of many words

which shelter me

from others’ verbal swords,

and it is plain to see

the benefits of meditation

if one would hide out, be free,

from life’s daily consternation.

Then there’s aging,

quite so plain

my place to avoid engaging

with youthful pain,

and let’s

not forget the pets,

nor the past,

not least, but last.

April 8, 2016

coming soon...a doodle poem

April 7, 2016

Urban Solace

I hear the sirens call,

their capacity to annoy,

then think of EMT’s close

at hand, to help, and all

pique quickly turns to joy.

Small village life is nice,

has benefits of its own,

but I’d have to think more than twice

before the metro I’d disown.

It’s more neighborly

in suburban climes,

and rural areas offer

quieter times,

but I prefer a citified life,

less steamed, more fried,

and yes, some strife.

I like my films

more foreign than tame,

need music, art and plays,

a tad more stimulating game.

I like immigrants, with their

cultures from across the sea,

their foods, language, dress,

are invaluable to me.

I opt for civic action,

it cannot come as news,

let others have serenity,

It’s an urban life I choose.

April 6, 2016

after "Vincent's Bedroom in Arles"

Bedroom in Arles

And what do people have?

Vincent, people have too much.

So you’d say, he spat,

possessor of so many things.

It would not, could not, occur

to one like me

to think like you,

your pitiful, plaintive pouting,

your wish for the simple.

Please.

Give me your fine, stuffed chairs,

I will gladly trade you mine.

Please.

Let me help.

I can assist with that gout as well.

Take my loaf of bread,

my tart wine, hard cheese.

Please.

I’ll try your elegant dishes,

perhaps sprawled across your bed.

Please.

The pictures on the wall?

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Yours for a glass half full.

Please.

April 4, 2016

How Far is Far?

There’s no really reliable

measure, no dependable

gauge, for discovering

the buried past.

It’s buried for a reason,

maybe a lot of reasons.

It’s way down there in the deep,

somewhere between sadness

and survival,

and the trek is an arduous one.

Once the outer layer of

the onion is removed,

one might as well keep at it

with the machete,

even if it is going to get worse

before it gets better.

It isn’t all that graceful,

but it lends itself to poetry,

so hold on to your hats.

(last line courtesy of Marie Elena Good)

April 3, 2016

Three by Three

Trees tremble in fear,

Earth’s fever drains lakes,

Spring lambs keep sleeping

My heart sings with joy,

Spring rains on the horizon.

We must mend the roof

Cool light from afar,

Summer crops need attention.

Bees remain divine.

April 2, 2016

He said,
don’t need no tropical moon,
nor no sleepy lagoon.
She said,
that might be so,
but it’s the best way to go.
He said it’s best to be home,
with the tv and phone.
She said t’s better by far,
to see Europe by car.
He said home cooking delights,
and I sincerely love pizza nights.
She said any restaurant will do,
but, of course, it must have a view.
He said that Kenmore is nice,
and you really can’t beat the price.
She said, trying to be fair,
but you can’t beat Jenn-Air.
He said, no way around it,
in arguments I'm toast,
but he loves her even more
‘cause she’s all that,
what they call “the most”.
She said, are you saying I'm fat?

April 1, 2016

Been thinking about war a lot,

lately,

the most important one,

you know,

because it happened to me.

Been thinking about bravery,

and fear,

how the absence of one does

not

define the other.

A few warriors fear nothing,

but

this doesn’t make them strong.

I t simply makes them,

I think,

too foolish to be afraid.