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Thursday, April 27, 2017

Time to Eat

today we are asked to weave 3 of 6 words into a poem, all 6 for extra credit...can you guess the words? effort:

Feeding Time

There once were four
birdfeeders in our yard,
two seed, two humming,
festooned with the usual
red and yellow.
After we erected
a glass fence to
keep a hungry pest
of a rambling coyote
from our household feline,
said cat became too
fond of birds and
the hummingbirds became
too fond of cracking
their necks on glass
they could not see.
After a few fatal hiccups,
wincing at the sight,
the seed beds are
gone, and the sugar
water is elsewhere,
but all the birds remain,
hoping for a change
of heart and mind.
We see them at
their accustomed
feeding time,
large and small,
colorful and plain,
doves and wrens,
tits and orioles.

And one,
very observant

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Cooking Bliss

I love to cook
especially for friends.
There's the food, of course,
the stories we tell,
and before an evening ends,
I simply feel satisfied,
where in the past,
I'd feel stress.
There's a simple reason
for this emotion,
my gustatory happiness.
I’ve learned to take my time,
the secrets of mis en place,
a sip of the cooking wine,
well, maybe an entire glass.
But mostly what it is,
the core of my cooking bliss:
when I peel the potatoes,
I peel the potatoes.
When I cut the tomatoes,
I cut the tomatoes.
When I stir the soup,
I stir the soup.
When I chop the greens,
I chop the greens.
That’s all it takes,
so it seems.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017


I have an old,
old man’s body,
but I know,
know this:
there’s a happy,
happy child, deep,
deep in my heart.
Now you might say how,
how can I be so,
so sure, when I can’t,
can’t see it,
not even with the best,
best mirror.
Well, I might just,
just answer
that I know,
know this in the same,
same way I know,
know there’s an Uncaused
Cause that is All,
all there is.

Monday, April 24, 2017


Simple Beliefs

Tastes like water.
Smells like water.
Feels like water.
Must be a mirage.

Sit on you mat,
Zen technocrat.
Simple as that.
Let your worries scat.

Earth Day

Every day is Earth Day,
each minute a chance
to redeem ourselves.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

a little Buddhism

No doubt, life is suffering..
How does one respond?
Truth or dare?
Who Knows?


No doubt, life is a challenge.
How does one respond?
Play or hide?
I know.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Being Remembered

The trick is to live a good life,
without worrying about rewards,
be it from friends or your gods.
If they judge you and are fair,
they’ll admire your effort,
even when you fail.
If you have no gods,
the trick is still to live a good life.
If you have only a few friends,
or even no friends,
you can still live with charity.
If you are steadfast in your goals,
devout in your goodness,
true in your loving kindness,
someone’s memory will hold you dear,
long after you are gone.

Monday, April 17, 2017

and the beat goes on

Tastes like water.
Smells like water.
Feels like water.
Must be a mirage.


We’re not all brave souls.
Some are the audience
when the brave take their bow.


I’ll have two
of whatever she’s having.
If it’s good,
maybe one more.


I see you,
I love you,
and I support you
in your magnificence


Sometime I forget
who I am.
Spirit remembers.


It is not that guilt
is bad or good.
It’s that it simply
does not work.


It seems to me that
life usually turns out
as it is meant to.


I am no longer
making a living.
I am, though,
making a life.


I won’t run or dance,
but my heart sings when you’re near.
Nature loves lovers.


Winter’s fire is banked,
air dancing above cold coals.
At peace now in spring.


For the peace
I crave in life,
I need only myself
to be present.


Washboard abs are okay,
but have you ever tried
jelly-filled donuts?


I ask if this is
my opinion or
one implanted by others.


I am still
cultivating happiness
for my life.
There’s more to do.


When I bury my mind
and expose my heart,
you’ll see my body move.


It seems to me that
life usually turns out
as it is meant to.


Encouragement and praise
lift me up higher than
competition does.


Am I choosing my path,
or is the path choosing me?
I don’t yet know.


I wonder what it’s like when I meditate.
Clouds slowly drifting by.


Clinging to even
just one “truth”
makes it hard to hear 
anything new.


With alcohol,
It always seems to me,
two is not
better than one.

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Guilt-Free Prayer

Guilt-Free Prayer

If it please God,
may my friends forgive me
my mistakes,
mostly unintended.
If it please God,
may the world forgive me
my interruptions to the flow,
my combative honesty,
my angry outbursts,
mostly uninintended.
If it please God,
may I write from my heart,
sing with my soul,
accept praise and criticism,
mostly without judgement.

a couple more

How do you spend your days?
What do you enjoy doing?
Now blend those two.


Sometimes I go
the extra mile,
others sitting still,
writing my poems..


Sunday, April 9, 2017

More April Seventeen's

I have many withs,
and a lot of withouts.
I’m okay with both states.


The face of war never changes.
Old men hide behind words.
Young men die,


It was sold as gold.
It looks like silver.
It’s solid arsenic.


The Buddha was asked
if he was a god.
He replied,
I am awake


Peace, Love and Joy.

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Doctor Seuss Does Panic Attacks

From the halls of Montezuma to a hedge-lined nursery, I’d no idea what it was, what was happening to me. It was a beautiful day, early in May, children at play, free to be free. There were flags unfurled to a mid-Spring breeze, no reasons to fret, and all was at ease. Such a sunny scene, no fear of showers, no nerves at work, I was just buying flowers. Suddenly it hit me, bright lights, roaring sound, the flowers went flying, me too, to the ground, with chest beating wildly, gasping for air, no idea what to do, I just had to leave there. Eventually I calmed, tried looking back, realized this wasn’t the first such attack, with thoughts of death, pure fight or flight, with no clue as to cause, try as I might. Later, in treatment, I learned what it was, it became all too obvious, the reasons, the cause. The children that day were all Vietnamese, no danger to me, nor their families, but that has little to do with the truth, don’t you see, there’s no logic to emotions in PTSD. I’m better now, but I’ll never be free. It’s a life sentence, this thing, this PTSD. I have coping skills now to assist, and people who know, and little by little, it improves as I grow,, a little bit older, a lot more wise, so now when the attacks start, I just close my eyes, notice my breathing, count the beats of my heart. It’s not a total solution, but hey, it’s a start. 

Friday, April 7, 2017


It might just be my fading ears,
but it seems to me
those new, thick windows and sliders
throughout our forever home
have stolen most of the outside sounds:
the cars and trucks
(but not the ambulances),
the roofers shouting
from the condos across the street,
(but not their supervisor)
the lawn mowers
(but not the leaf blowers).
Sadly, the small birds,
(but not the doves),
and, alas, the wind chimes.

But there’s one window
we did not replace,
a tallish, narrow,
louvered one in my bathroom,
next to where I write my poems.
It has an odd knob,
like the one that opens the gas fireplace valve.
When that window’s open, louvers ajar,
especially in the morning,
I can hear the traffic from the freeway,
a mile or so away,
the working folks on their daily trek south.
They start in the dark of night,
and return again, before dusk.
Long retired now,
I wonder about them.
Are they happy?
Do they like their work?
(If not, why do they do it?)
I send them a little prayer,
wishing them joy,
hoping they find their bliss,
before the sounds of
can’t and don’t and mustn’t
freeze them before the daily tidal wave
(or, at least, I hope they learn to surf).

Thursday, April 6, 2017

April Continues

What were your noises made,
the sounds you heard,
before your parents were born?


The brighter the light,
the darker the shadow.
I can find love in both.


It takes a lot of love
to survive those
husband and wife arguments


Nature doesn’t rush things,
it doesn’t try.
It just does.
Plants simply grow.


We’re all worthy of
a few daily moments of
peace, calm and quiet.

Sunday, April 2, 2017

April Fools Plus One

The present moment
is the only moment.
Might as well settle in.


Don’t mess around.
Whatever you are doing,
do the hell out of it.

Saturday, April 1, 2017

It's PAD time

Grand gestures
are not needed.
Small, quiet kindnesses
are more useful.


Don’t mess around.
Whatever you are doing,
do the hell out of it.


Recalling my first
meditation ,
there is nothing to