2018

Learning to relax

the syllable count can be

exhilarating.

People are going nuts,

bolts, screws about the news –

Truth – a healing balm.

Mutually assured destruction –

the worst outcome –

none survives the blast.

Information rules!

Librarians understand.

Who’s in charge of truth?

London handmaiden

lies under all the radar.

Fingers sticky still.

Be your own librarian.

Learn the information rules.

You don’t need their intermediation,

Their tricks, their trinkets.

Just wake up tomorrow morning

And say “Bye, bye, Pharaoh.”

Friday in America, or, This Is Not a Lovesong (8/29/2018)

At the barbershop I watched

the youngsters on sports TV

knocking down 40 ft 3-pointers,

scoring touchdowns at will.

Once upon a time I saw entertainers and pro athletes

as heroes, mythological,

legendary – superstars.

Now I know the secret of their superpower.

It’s practice that makes perfect.

They are hard working, yet normal

humans – like me – like all of us –

just getting paid a wage rate

equal to their marginal product.

“Ain’t no such a thing as a Superman.”

But Aretha is gone –and a thousand birds have fallen

from the sky – “You’d better think about

what you trying to do to me.”

The world may seem, may be, a bit

out of kilter. More today than yesterday.

More tomorrow.

We blame our woes

on astronomy – our tears

on humidity and the dew point.

Today’s was a celebration,

a syllabus of expression.

The Queen of Soul is dead.

Long live the Queen of Soul.

Some Sunday Haiku (9/2/2018)

It wouldn’t be Sunday
without a bit of Haiku
to close the weekend.

Burial at sea
impresses me as the way
to go out in class –

Not on some hilltop
reminding folks of your wealth –
the power of place.

ModPo starts next week.
Reading Emily early –
closing late with Walt.

Just before the end
let me say a prayer for you,
for me, all of us.

We have all we need.
A thousand birds have fallen –
a song sustains us.

So much is inside out –

Like a reversible raincoat.

People are not what they seem.

Break a few rules if you must.

Drink yesterday’s coffee,

Just heat it up –

Better than to throw it away.

I almost forgot –

enveloped by stormy days:

it’s Haiku Sunday!

ModPo has begun!

Emails of introduction

deluge my inbox.

Emily and Walt –

their poems lift our thoughts, strengthen

our resolve to write –

both bookends that close

their prior age and open

all of our tomorrows.

Saturday Haiku (new) (9/15/2018)

people traumatized –
big storms brew just off the shore –
keep the faith through all.
why is that trending?

Twitter’s fake algorithms –
slant truth is fake news.
gangs destabilize
while innocent souls are lost –

“Build that wall!” they shout.
Where are solutions?
Isolate the cause, distill
flaws. Tell all the truth.
gradually we
awaken from deep slumber –
anesthetized peace.

Bonus Twitter tweet:

The world has gone mad.
Omarosa has tapes –
Bob Woodward has tapes –
Feinstein – whose 20-year driver
was a Chinese Spy –
has a secret letter
about high school sex.
Gawd! These people are crazy!

Sunday mourning coffee

I overfilled
my french press
this morning
the white foam
bubbled up to the top
then faded back
into blackness
tomorrow morning
the workers come
to service
the air conditioning
wife says no coffee
because it makes
the place stink