The Poetry Marathon

Unseen

Some of the greatest forces are unseen.
Air, close your eyes, feel air, feel stillness.
Thoughts, what are you thinking now? 
Can I climb inside your thoughts unseen?
Space between things, not air, not thought,
but something else—the space between things 
is one of the greatest forces unseen, unheard,
but sometimes felt. 

Hypnic Jerks

quiet afternoon

the big white cat

begins to twitch

birth

of a baby blue whale

nomadic dreams

heat wave

even rats

have reverie

soon

to be a grandfather

muse music

Free to LEARN by Peter Gray’s last line;

“And then we will witness a full renewal of children’s capacities for self-control and desire to learn, and an end to the epidemic of anxiety, depression and feelings of helplessness that plague so many youth today.”

______________________________________

Of Children’s Capacities For

so many youth today are plagued with anxiety

so many have depression

so many have feelings of helplessness

renew we will with freedom to learn allowed in schools we will

renew of self-control we will

renew of desire to learn we will

we will witness a full renewal, and then

put an end to the current epidemic

that is for no one

renew we will for children’s capacities

renew for us all

I’ve never been to paradise or heaven—are they similar places—like islands in the Caribbean? Like utopia or nirvana?

Those places would be enjoyable I guess, but they may be places like Las Vegas where I have been, unfortunately. Before I pick a place, can I get a 90 second tourist video? Can I have Rick Steves tour it and give his full insights? Can I get a refund and start over in less than 24 hours?

Also, how long do I go for? A weekend, two weeks, a year, the rest of my life?

If I could be guaranteed that another planet would be inhabitable and at least reasonably hospitable to me, then I would choose another planet. Life must have taken some dramatic turns in the evolutionary journey, and the results would be fascinating. Many books, movies, shows, imaginations have delved into this exact curiosity. All to somewhat similar conclusions.  I’m no scientist—definitely more the artistic happy-go-lucky type, but the universe has always drawn me in. Interestingly enough, I’ve never been interested in shows like Star Wars or Star Trek—perhaps because I never really had a TV, and was never an avid reader of fiction. So what would another planet be like. First of all, to compare it to earth would make sense. Planet Earth is about 4-5 billion years old. So, I’d want a planet 5 billion or more years old. I’ve always been more interested in looking forward than backwards. History has become instantly boring to me the older I get… there might be a good joke there. Maybe about 8 billion would be the sweet spot for a planet—just speculating here. Being an optimist, the more experience we have and the longer we evolve away from our survival instincts the better chance of a peaceful society. Is this what people call utopia? The Orville depicted a so called planet with a utopian culture but it turned out to be a weak disguise for a society that was still based on self-interest, totalitarianism, and force.

The best option would to take a “cruise” of the universe, spending a week or two in five or ten planets—maybe 4-5 days on 2-3 locations on each planet. That’s it, a cruise of the universe. But I wouldn’t be one of those cruise passengers that stayed on the ship and only went with the large groups to the tourist trap shops and restaurants. No, I’d take off and look around the planet myself or with a local guide. Then after a few tours of the universe, I could choose the planet I would retire  choose to live the rest of my life on before I passed and went to heaven or paradise or nirvana.

shadows
all afternoon here 
now a butterfly too

no hands no eyes no legs no mouth moonshadow

most days
this shadow calls on me 
but she never overstays 

it did not take long
for the shadow to find me
library books





  

I came upon a masked stranger,

stirring porridge in the heat.

He asked if I was in danger,

and offered me a seat.

I said that I felt lethargic,

and could use a bit to eat.

He insisted that I seemed sick,

and must get off my feet.

He went into his wee abode,

a cottage on the treeline.

He soon returned with a huge toad,

and a cat he called Ms. Feline.

He zoomed about like a firefly,

then said, “It’s time to dine!”

He opened a bottle, then did cry,

“After dinner you will feel fine!”

Facebook added a seventh emoji a few months ago, the Care emoji

So now there are: Like, Love, Care, haha, wow, sad, and angry

What about a ‘nervous’ emoji, or a ‘feeling frisky’ emoji

Or ‘buzzed’, ‘dumb-ass’, ‘last straw’, ‘super-fucking cool’, or ‘hot-diggidy dog’

There should also be a way to pick two, like ‘Love and Care’, or ‘Sad and Angry’

What about three emoji’s, like ‘Love, haha, and Wow’

Each Facebook member should be able to make up their own emojis

to be used on their posts like labels on Blogger. I would have a ‘poetic dude’ emoji’

I would also have a ”drink!’ emoji, and ‘That doesn’t make sense’ emoji

Gammar nerds would get out of hand quickly—can you imagine;

”Check your spelling’, ‘Good time for the Oxford comma’, ‘Kill the passive voice’,

A ‘Peace’ would be cool though. Hey, how about a ‘cool beans’ emoji

I would use, ‘Totes’ all the time

masks

masks, a sign of weakness

a pretense of anti-racism

a façade of social justice

a cover-up

a front for social justice

a veneer of Black Lives Matter

No, none of this is true

masks

masks mask our germs

masks reveal our care

the masquerade is not hidden but exposed by the non-mask wearer

ones who refuse to wear a mask uncover their lack of empathy

ones who refuse to wear a mask expose their absence of humanity

ones who refuse to wear a mask disclose their deficiency of strength

masks

my wife makes masks

our dining room table is a mask making station

masks are here to stay

I’m afraid to say

masks, my new found ally

now it is easy to see a person’s character

mask or no mask

soft fur against my bare legs, barbed tongue cleans my calf

sheets pulled back, robe slipped on

quiet breathing

the whistle of water, spring of a toaster, sizzle of eggs, lemon, honey, caffeine, turn of a newspaper

writer’s almanac, daily poems, the scratch of a pencil, reading the news, view of the bay, crows, gulls, eagles, a great blue heron

lettuce, tomato, kalamata olives, cucumber, feta cheese, vinaigrette, cracked black pepper, fizzy water, snapchat to my daughter

closed eyes—soft fur on my pillow on my lap, soft music

shorts, socks, sneakers, t-shirt, backpack, book, notepad, pencil, iced-tea, sunglasses, hat,

10,000 steps, snapchats, a slug, bunny, deer, trees, flowers, kayaker, great blue heron, a log drifting, children laughing, holding hands

closed eyes, shower, soft music,

sizzling onions, garlic, bok choy, mushrooms, broccoli, ginger, coconut milk, curry paste, tofu, cilantro, lime, brown rice, red wine

French movie, holding hands, rubbing feet, sunset, games with friends

reading, writing, candle, bourbon,

robe slipped off, sheets pulled up, soft fur nearby, goodnight kiss, dreams

morning mountain fog
brush strokes widen
my appetite

overnight drench
sidestepping slugs
around the lake trail

unrequited love
he throws another marshmallow
into the ashes

skinny dipping
under the galaxy
the flash of paparazzi

autumn nap
the murmur of tree limbs 
in silence