Welcome my hungry ones
my any ones my every ones
my loved ones, friends and acquainted ones
Gather at my table and have what is brought
Lemon pie and honey ham
Scalloped potatoes and green stringy beans
Serve yourself as I watch
loosen your tie and belt
take off those 3 inch heels
words have been spoken, deed is done
I probably won’t be having any
But thank you for coming
please excuse me for being late.
Posted: May 16, 2015 in creative writing
Seeing the commotion at the jetway, I knew this was going to be an interesting layover in Denver. Gate 18 to gate 86 is not a walk to look forward to. On the way all sorts of bazaar behavior can be observed.
I like watching people. Don’t get me wrong, I’m also a doer, not just a watcher. I know how to get things done but there are times a guy just has to take a few moments to simply observe his surroundings. You know, watch total strangers just doing everyday things. Have you ever just sat and watched someone eat a sandwich? I’ve noticed most people don’t take the advice of Warren Zevon. Most do something else as they eat their sandwich. It seems reading of some sort is popular, a book, a newspaper, the label on their bottled water. I have watched a lot of people eat their sandwich and I’ve never noticed an adult hold the thing in both hands and first just nibble around the edges eating the crust. Or pulling a PB&J apart and just lick the peanut butter off of one slice and lick the jelly off of the other. Only a child will do that, my son used to do that. I haven’t watched lately but I’m betting he doesn’t eat his sandwiches either of those ways now that he’s an adult. I ‘m thinking he enjoyed his sandwich more back when he was 7. He’s grown now, but I’m going to watch the next time we have lunch together.
Yes, I agree , we should “enjoy every sandwich”, no matter what the age or where we are..
Posted: May 13, 2015 in poetry
Tags: free verse, poem, poetry
Defining the times of turmoil
was the music, the Man and the long-haired girls,
the sad evening news, the cleansing and beautiful notes
that were only heard on the radio from 33 RPM turntables.
But still the far away soft background echo of bugles just over the hill.
The times defined us
some with Mary Jane, cigarettes and free love,
new families or crossing Northern borders.
Meeting Egg Man and ol’ Flat Top in
the cool-white lights of factory jobs, awakening to cheap apartment smells
in Bohemian neighborhoods.
Always the heavy sadness that hung just out of our reach,
even beyond the Newly discovered black and white Moon.
Never knowing the Nothing that would change our world
and now still feeling the heavy weight and tiredness of not understanding.
Posted: May 11, 2015 in poetry
Beware the robin’s look
The chirp and stare of protecting life
Perched not far away
Demanding attention onto a dying branch.
How far can be flown to gather,
leaving blue eggs to cool
and to tempt the curious.
Does she know what has been nested
or is she as curious as we,
wondering what life has wrought.
Posted: May 10, 2015 in poetry
Tags: free verse, poem, poetry
I traveled through a small town of 500 people the other day.
I had never driven through there before
I noticed something .
I first saw Sherri’s Package Store
then Dave’s Carwash just a block from Allen’s Hardware.
Looking up the street
I could see the barber pole of Carl’s Barber Shop.
Just past Nick’s Grocery on Main Street
I had to stop at Casey’s Convenience Store for gas.
I felt I was on a first name basis with half the folks in town
And I didn’t talk to a soul.
Posted: May 2, 2015 in poetry
It was one of those rainy mornings
when the clouds were thick except to the West
the Western brightness made us feel more than see
that the Sun may be rising from the West that day.
A mirror image morning.
Morning would be evening
East would be West and North would be South.
Who knew that our perspective of the world
could be changed so easily.
Just by a rainy morning
when the clouds were not dark to the West.
If only for a short while.
Posted: April 29, 2015 in free verse, poetry
Tags: poem, poetry
All I know is what I’ve done by stumbling
to and fro, up and between, among the noise
and shaken heated air.
Only to land on one wheel far left of center
with silent lips that seldom stay sealed,
and more is always said than what’s first thought about
but still never thought a fool.
With squinted eyes and wrinkled brow,
I sit pondering ….. like Darwin’s dog “speculating on the mind of Newton”
but with no belief in God.
Working hard, flying straight, telling everyone I only do what’s best,
but feeling I’m really doing nothing at all.
Surviving by only doing what’s needed to keep the blood
flowing in my own worn narrowing veins
and providing hot food only for the few I love.
Trying like hell to see the beauty in sunrises, full moons
and animals made of nothing but distant stars or white sailing clouds.
Hoping someday to once again only hear the silence
beyond my always noise filled ears.
Posted: April 27, 2015 in poetry
Months have passed with no word from you
You chose your book, the book you view
no said good byes, no scented note
no handshakes or good-byes were wrote
Now home is lost and you return,
to watch the blazing fires burn.
And sift through ashes and reminisce
proclaim your love for those you miss
The time’s too late to reach and save
to pull your home from the grave
Too late to kiss, or to gently hug
The time to save … was before the graves were dug.
Posted: April 25, 2015 in creative writing
Watching the green wheat waves roll across the fields
we are reminded of a football stadium and enthusiastic fans.
Marveling at the migrating herds of wildebeests stampeding
remind us of congested and crowded morning rush hour traffic.
Seeing the steep jagged cliffs and tall mountains of the Rockies
we think of how steel girders rise to form man’s tallest buildings.
When did the tenor become the vehicle of our metaphors….
Posted: April 22, 2015 in Earth Day
Tags: Pogo Comics
Meet my favorite Comic Strip character, Pogo. Created by Walt Kelly. If you have heard the saying, “We have met the enemy and he is us”, Pogo was the first to say it on Earth Day April 22, 1971.
Pogo was a great philosopher. A very wise possum. I read Pogo all through my childhood and into my adult life. The possum became my Animal Totem. He helped form many of my social, political and personal beliefs that I hold dear to this day. I have passed on Pogo’s influence to my children and grandchildren on every chance.
Unfortunately, Pogo is not syndicated any longer in any newspapers that I’m aware of although there are many Pogo books that Walt Kelly published before the artist’s death in 1973.
For sound advice, political satire and just plain fun reading, give Pogo by Walt Kelly a web search to find Pogo and his friends in the Okefenokee Swamps of the Southeast U.S. Any of his books would be a great start in helping to understand even 21st century world events and politics.
Read him and you will soon love him.