Friday, September 26, 2014

Poem - water

i found out that the water on earth
is older than the sun and so is ancient
beyond all estimations born in a sun
that died beyond the limits of whatever
meager time we can hope to manage

made i swim and drink and eat it
like a glint of the embers from the reflection of it
fire in my blood in froth and tide that rose
and fell here and on other worlds now vaporized
renewed thrown down risen up

the star in us each one of us down here
that has a trail that shoots into vast darkness
it could be that god is the star or the stars' star
or even beyond this i will never know
i will only see through a narrow window

not bound by earth or time we will migrate
to heaven to hell or yesterday or to tomorrow
the small view becomes greater through suffering
the view becomes broader with gain or loss
water is unchanged serene and beyond death


Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Poem - was blue just at sunset i'll never know

i'm sure jesus swam a few times in his life
i wonder if he knew when his last swim was swum

these kind of things i think about as i grow older
not much wiser but the mind roams wider and wider

if jesus ever daydreamed about the almighty
i wonder who that abba was and how did it feel

i wonder if jesus liked chocolate or if his favorite cloud
was blue just at sunset i'll never know


to Jesus

Monday, September 22, 2014

Poem - but only if given away entirely

why be right about suffering or heartbreak
or be the bearer of bad news

instead why not work in secret
so everyone wakes up to a new brought day

and no one even suspects
how you furnished it and at what expense

they can have it and so can you
but only if given away entirely


Friday, September 19, 2014

I Make up Stories

Like you, I make up stories about things than never happened, based off personal experience. But I don't have the discipline, or chutzpah, of a novelist. I should be the hero. I am not.



I Read Widely

Like you, I read widely, and then I formulate opinions on things I know nothing about. But I have read about them.



Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Poem - when any friend shows up / there is a celebration

your lips move when you read
only the most important things
like poetry or montaigne

you still have imaginary friends
at 47 years old and you are offended
when they don't stop by to play

but like montaigne or blake
they are old friends real or not

when any friend shows up
there is a celebration
in the real world


Poem - she said have no hope

she said have no hope
abandon it altogether

then you can be happy
and i see it is true

you can't explain it either
because being happy

with or without hope
is the rarest thing of all


2014 .8

dedicated to Jñana

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Poem - it is fortunate to be in love

i can write a poem and not tell you
i'll tape it to my sunshade
or inside a drawer and think of you

it is fortunate to be in love
and be totally anonymous

because you're unaffected by my feelings

this is a revolution in my thinking
to love and have no contact

i'm taking the longer view now

we are all doomed
to be separated


Monday, September 15, 2014

God Fans out the Cards

God fans out the cards. "Pick a card, any card."


"Why not?"

"You're GOD! You can make those cards do anything you want."

"I won't cheat."

"You're GOD! Omnipotent beings can't cheat."

God sighs, but I can see he is very entertained. "You're not making this very easy. Please."


God fans the cards. "Pick a card, any card."

I pick a card.

"Did I ever tell you the time, while I was making the Universe, when we got to the fourth day, and we had to decide how big to make the Sun, Moon and Stars?"

"You did a nice job. I like how big they are."

"Oh, well thanks. I wasn't asking for your approval."

"I was being agreeable."

"When I say the word "happy" -- what is the first thought that comes into your mind?"


"Good answer!"

"And the second thought?"


"Even better! You're on a streak today."



Friday, September 12, 2014

1 Act Play: Columbus to the Navigator


                                        CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS

                                 (Pointing to NAVIGATOR)
                    If you say "AH HA!" one more time, when I discover a new island -- I will pack you                           back to Spain in chains.



                    Land ahoy!


                   AH HA!!!


Another short story

When I think of a life hack, I think of someone hacking with a meat cleaver.


The captains short story written on a window in felt tip pen

In space I dont have to explain everything. or anything, I am the captain and I can shut off your air while you sleep.


USS Cynus
April 2099

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Poem - i am broken / like the 3rd blue moon now in one day wane

i am broken
i will disappoint you
i will make you angry

i am broken
i will go out of my way to help you
i will never give up

i am broken
i will invent stories
i will tell the truth

i am broken
i will apologize for things not mine
i will take the blame of others

i am broken
i have great fear and great faith
i have determination and serenity

i am broken
i will feel sorry for you
i will feel sorry for me

i am broken
i will wake up every day like it is new
i will always choose to smile and not frown


i am broken
i treat you with respect
i treat my family with respect
i treat my enemies with respect
i treat the bugs with respect
i treat myself with respect


for Jñana

like the 3rd blue moon now in one day wane
i am silly i am old i am young i am new
i am foolish i am wise i know nothing i know everything
i am doomed i am perfect

Tuesday, September 09, 2014

Poem - To Robert Funge - down it goes / with a hundred things or more

bob funge is dead
but he lives in my mind
because there is a part of my consciousness
where there is no time

there will always be a place
in my soul and heart
where it is fine to drink
and a place where bob is working
at his desk on poetry

he'll be at the house
on elm street in san carlos
with the yard gone to hell
and the room where the drapes
gently fell apart

bob didn't care about clothes
or money or property
or dumb stuff like that
he only cared about poetry
correspondences and baseball

he mostly only cared
about poetry

he worried about only
two things
his son and his daughter

daughter couldn't
get clean

so when he couldn't sleep
he'd walk the streets of the town
at night the cops knew
who he was

or when he got angry
he would walk
the streets at night

or when he was worried
he'd walk again
at night

i see him walking
at night and working
on poems

down it goes
with a hundred things
he told me and we laughed about

i can see one of his books
from where i sit now

the ultimate tribute

down it goes
with a hundred things or more
he told me and we laughed about


Dedicated to Robert Funge
Sept. 13, 1931-
Mar. 22, 2013

Tuesday, September 02, 2014

Poem - and if you do know

don't realize
everything you didn't think about
was thought out
was a message

hotel room
restaurant club
how you cocked your hip
and smiled

and if you do know