Archive for December, 2020

In my life of being one with the Universe, I have an innate sense of the Earth’s seasons. You may say “What a broad statement!”. But it is true. So grounded into my DNA, I need no calendar. I need no reminding. I have no need for preparations of a holiday. I wake up on the days of Solstice and Equindox and my ancestral brain’s spinning gyroscope is tilted to the seasonal direction. I have but a twing and I just know. I feel I have a small astronomical relationship, perhaps a brotherhood, with our solar star. My gimbals are re-caged on each season to the proper degrees of earth’s tilt and my life continues to spin renewed through our Universe’s marveles of emptiness.

Such is the life of John

How Hard the Life

Posted: December 11, 2020 in free verse, poem, poet, poetry, writing
Tags: , ,

What have I to say?
I can say the sweet things, the accepted things
the heart warming, precious things.
Speak of love and the expected things.

But how hard the life?
The road of bumps and gravel dust,
of roadside weeds and ungated railroad crossings.
And always forgetting to look both ways.

The life of pebbles that break windshields
and jiggling of toilet handles to prevent a flood.
Watching dimly lit gas gauges on E
and quickly mown lawns with untrimmed edges.

Oh, to notice the perched hawk, saying hello to him and following his stare as I pass
Wanting to remember the first days of the new seasons
and to watch the Sun and the Moon
and to know when and where they will rise and how full it will be on my free Sunday.

How hard the life to forget these things?
How good the life?
To want these, to have hope of these.

I am as much as the beetle stranded on his back.
For even he struggles to right himself and live.
If he, then so will I.



This is the first poem that I posted on WordPress in September of 2013. But one that I wrote so many years ago. I think it is time to dust it off and give it a little light once again.

Dodging the Bullet

Posted: December 9, 2020 in Everyday Life, free verse, poet, writing

It’s December once again, hopefully for the total 31 days. December, we’ve almost made it. If you are like me, this year of 2020 really stinks!  A good thing did happen though. A thing that seems strange that I even have to mention it. A good thing that in the past could have happened to me alone but not to my entire family and friends. I am thankful that all of us did not die. Only a few of my family died and only a few of my greatest friends are now gone. All of us were exposed to the same thing but most of us escaped or survived from it. We are thankful to be alive.

Some of us only survived because we were consciously and totally aware of our surroundings and the risks. If the risk was unescapable, we stayed home. We can do that, we are retired, we don’t have to go anywhere. Groceries are picked up at the curb in a car, we are in masks and with windows up we yell through the glass if we have to talk to the masked person loading the car. We mask because the kids loading our trunk are masked. They are very brave. I am not sure they understand how brave they really are.

Another reason we are alive, we believe in science, we wear our masks and we do not follow a foolish man.