Archive for July, 2017

My head turns to thoughts of the Moon
The Full, the Crescent, the New
I think of the Moon’s oblong Tide that rolls across our planet
Not stopping at the ocean’s edge but continuing across plains, mountains and Man.
Tugging on water, granite and skull as it makes its way around Earth captured paths.
Raising and lowering
Stretching and shrinking
Day in and day out
Performing a constant celestial massage on all things of this world.
Forming and changing shores, mountains and minds.
Bringing spring tides or slack waters

DSS

The quiet morning’s sounds of dog barks and bird songs were broken by the cranking whine, stuttered start and roar of 600 horsepower round engines. Two more spray planes take off to the south. From my window I watch the planes climb to only tree top level and disappear beyond the close horizon.
Another early beginning to take advantage of the calm winds and light turbulence that will only last a precious few hours on hot summer days like these. What will the enemy be today, green bugs, corn borers or ravenous grasshoppers? Miles away from here the planes will perform their low level ballet spreading their fog from one end of the fields to the other. At the end of each pass a short climb, a quick bank and a slow roll to an opposite turn. The chandelle complete, a dive over or under the power lines and aligned for another five foot high pass. The noise, precision and grace are spell binding and impossible to let pass without stopping to watch. Very beautiful, at least for a temporarily earth bound pilot like me. Emptied, they will soon return to port.
I will hear them first as they fly downwind directly over our home. The change of engine and prop pitch as they pass adds to the pulse of my chest. They must do this to tease me. Damn its hard work but I know they are having fun.

Such is the life of John

If you could peer through that wavy glass,
on the other side, it isn’t covered in silver
It is only a thin shiny grey coat of paint
and there is nothing more .
The mirror shows only a thin reflection
of my messed-up hair and unshaven face.
There is nothing more in that square frame.
If it could only show the way I feel,
the good or bad that I see
or the light or heavy touch of my hands,
it may be of tangible value.
But that thin mirror shows no more
than the faint reflection of what others already see.

DSS

Ignite It

Posted: July 16, 2017 in free verse, poem, poet, poetry, writing
Tags: , , , , ,

It’s time to rid the page of the negative
and gently scribe the positive.
Somewhere deep within the jelly of the mind and skull,
shaking there, quivering there within it.
A small spark is firing,
a spark waiting to be fueled,
igniting a more good thought.
The combustible will come from outside it.
It will be a kind word,
the purr of a cat,
or noticing the beauty of young unblemished skin.
The fuel is everywhere.
Let that small moist spark ignite it.

DSS

(An oldie but goodie)

So, you want a few thoughts from me, OC ?  I really am the most colorful, I think, of this bunch that John allows to occupy his otherwise very empty mind, body and soul.

I’ve been having a lot of fun this year. As some of you know , I am more or less apolitical (E says that means non-political) and I don’t give a shit. But I will say this, President Trump is about the stupidest son-of-bitch that we’ve ever had as the leader of our country. I’m just telling you right up front how I feel. You see, I’m just telling you exactly how it is. I ain’t what you call wishy – washy. Some probably say that I am stupid for saying it that way. And you know what, so do I, but that’s just how I feel whether you agree or not, even if it isn’t true. I’m just telling you what I’m thinking right off the top of my head. Take it or leave it mother-fuckers.

Now before you get all burly and excited and threaten to beat me to a pulp for talking that way about your President, stop and think a minute! How I explained myself in that last paragraph is exactly what you stupid bastards said you liked about Trump.

You said “I like him because he tells it the way it is. He doesn’t mince words, he tells ya exactly what’s on his mind, right or wrong , whether you agree with him or not. I admire that about a man and a President”. If you love that about a man, you should love the hell out of me.

But truly, I gauge a man when I first meet him this one way and one way alone. And it is as simple as this, would I like working for a boss like him? Would he be an ass-hole to work for?

Come on you working stiffs out there that voted for him. How many bosses have you had that were like that ass-hole that you told to go fuck himself and you quit to find a better job? You voted for him as President? You need to wake up for Christ’s sake! He’s not going to do anything for you.

Shit, I could run for President.

Now, who brought the beer. Let’s have a drink and try to forget the mess you guys have made, then we’ll find that strip club a few blocks from here I want to check out.

OC

( I guess there isn’t much here that OC has said that I need to apologize for.  He just likes to tell it the way it is.    John)

July, it feels like a new start or it feels we are reaching the end. July, the seventh month, the half way there to the end. Was January that long ago? Is December that long to come?

We plow through the month like a carton of cigarettes and we are chain smokers. Leaving the remnants of ourselves, the ones we love and our work in over-filled ashtrays. We are all different. There are the smokers and the non-smokers. We all have our used up leftovers we leave behind.

We non-smokers have our own useless disposed of hours and days, too. Whether we treat the month like a case of Aquafina, Budweiser or a damn giant jar of Pistachios, we consume the days and at the end of the month what we have to show for it may be just a few dozen plastic bottles or aluminum cans for the re-cycle or our ashtrays are only filled with green tinted lightly salted nut shells. And you that suck on sunflower seeds all month and spit out the hulls on the pickup floorboards, I have no sympathy for ya. You probably only have a month of mess to clean up.

July, we always start it out with fireworks, red,white and blue, good intentions and picnics and end the month with the garbage cans full of watermelon rinds, potato salad and the drive-way covered with black burnt spots that don’t wash off until we find ourselves in the dog days of August.

July, a very hot and messy month. It’s not like any of the others. It is really hard to get anything useful done in July. An interesting month of time.

E

 

Beyond the shade of evening light
and far from the brilliance of stars
there is a place where thoughts are born
and where they go when dimmed.

It is a place where no man can go
not flesh nor soul or ghost
It is where all dreams are made
and where poems reign as king

Poems within transparent books
Of words from thoughts unseen
When opened the words pierce the poet’s skull
and forms the verse he sees

Books only opened up by love
or peace or hate and jealousy
Pages turned by an emotional muse
Who throws them out at lightning speed

Thoughts caught behind wide green tinted eyes
Squarely neatly within hollow porous bone
Thoughts caught by a searching willing soul
Who believes his careful words are all his own

DSS