Monday, April 28, 2014

The Zen Bird

Wishing I could fly 
Not with feathers 
Not with wings 
But the spirit sort 
     Of bird 
It rises from the ashes of 
The mundane 
Of the everyday 
It soars 
It banks 
And sings 

It leaves behind 
All petty things 
It knows the way 
     To go 

The spirit bird requires 
Some attention 
     Now and then 
All sorts of cages 
Are made for it 
-Attempt to trap it 
     -To distract it 

I will tie 
A string around my 
To remember to remember 
In the midst of it all 
-All the clamoring, crying, sighing 
-All the silliness 
Of life 

The zen bird flies 
     Above it -
Now I need to 
Hitch a ride 


Trying to find an app. 
That is not connected 
A calendar that would be mine only 
Not one that would 
Notify google 
Of all that I do 
Can't find it 
We've gone beyond 
That sort of privacy
We no longer control our 
Own devices 
Someday my toaster will 
Will tell
On me 
My tv will look back at me 
And say 
Something critical 
I just know it will
Oh you look like you've gained 
A little weight dear
Gained a wrinkle and a 
Grey hair -
Where does it stop 
And do I care 
I have a certain resistance 
To it 
Thinking one might need some 
But that's gone 
The eye in the sky is
Looking down 
But when I sit down 
It can't tell how deep I get 
It cannot know if I transcend 
- yet 

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Just One of Those Days

Just one of those days 
So tired 
And alone -
Relishing being alone . . .
Too tired to deal 
With people and their problems 
And their talking 
And their walking 
And their brains busy spinning 
Love them 
Every once in awhile 
It's one of those days 
And the ice cream truck going by 
Is too much! 

Need this space 
Need this time 

To rest and dream 
To get back In touch 
With the presence of -

I guess this means 
I am not a type A personality-
Maybe a type 
R- as in rest 
Or a type M
As in meditate 
- a type H 
As in hermit 

Please don't be the type that 
Walks to the store and buys chocolate. 
Oh dear - ! -

Where's my wallet? 

Saturday, April 12, 2014

Home Improvement

So now it begins again 
Begins again 
     In earnest 
     This time. 
I repeat, 
Never buy 
An old house -or-
A house of 
     Any kind 
Be content 
To rent 

One never owns a house 
The termites do 
They are the ones who 
Really prosper 
They are content -
And they pay no rent 
They sneak along in the floorboards 
And chew 
What a stunning existence 
     If you're into 
     That sort 
Of thing 
If you really like the taste 
Of wood 
Which they obviously 

She knows a guy -
Who knows a guy -
Who's really good at 
Ripping the heck 
Out of your house 

But first move everything -
Out -
Of the way -
Thirty years worth of 
Absolute necessities and 
     Treasures -
I need a nap
Just thinking about it -
I will need a vacation  
Oh yes -
The Money will have been spent 
I will
Be camping on piles of 
Stacked in the yard 
Or maybe spend a night 
At the storage facility

What a great business 
- camp with your stuff 
For a nominal fee -
Have a campfire 
In the old bar-be-que 
Burning books 
One can no longer read 
Because one 
Can't afford 

Foggy Zen

Saturday morning exercise class 
Why do I commit
To these things?
It's at noon 
But still. . .
Today we have overcast 
Which makes it seem 
There is a wind chill factor 
Which makes it seem colder -
There is also a fog factor
Which makes it seem -
Motivation seems 
-get up and go-
-zip- of any kind 
Hard to find 
Missing in non-action 
-Without leave 
Absent -
Zen - without effort 
Old age 
(And fog)
Have done it 
For me 

Dishes. . .

Of all the people
On this earth
There is one
Who thinks
I'm special -
That's special

He may be crazy
May be misinformed
I'm not going to
Tell him just

It will be my special
One I will hold

And if he ever does
Come to his senses
And find someone more
- well adjusted

I will treasure
The time we had together
And wish him well
As he begins another journey
With the one
Who has all
Her dishes done
- always 

Monday, April 7, 2014


Backyard campfire. 
And all's right 
With the world 

Warm days
Global warming 
Are these the last days ?

Candles push back the darkness 
U r busy 

The fire has died 
The remnants of 
The pine tree 
I cut down 
To save the 
Pipes -

And give 

I hear the roadway -
People rushing 

I wish 
I could stay 
This relaxed 


Saturday, April 5, 2014


It's all going to 
Come back 
To bite you on the A**

Everything you write 
Everything you say -
So why 
I ask -
do we even talk 
At all 

Why don't we have the sense 
To see this coming -
And shut up 

But what fun 
Would that be ?

As a child 
With no one to talk to 
A blank piece of paper 
Was a friend -
Someone who 
Would listen to 
All my moanings 
And groanings 

Now, I have no excuse 
Other than 
Pure cussedness -

I have learned to read, 
To write 
And to think 

And someone 
( maybe Al) 
Invented the 
Internet . . .

So now we write 
For a cloud of nebulousness 
Who is it 
That's out there?

That's the interesting bit 
I have no idea 
Who's listening 
Who's reading 
 But still, 
Like eating chips,
I dip 

Into the 
Guacamole . . .

Gently Rocking Train

Just nothin' like a 
Glass of wine on a 
Gently rocking 

Pacific surf liner -
In the dark 

And you by my side -

Muted conversation
Shuffling cards -

- on the phone -

-Can't see the scary tunnel 
When it's dark outside -
Will probably hear it 
And wish 
For another glass -
Of wine 

But must maintain 
In public -

Can't be too comfortable 

Just -

On the edge of relaxing -
Thanking all the gods ---
We are not 
Driving !!!

Train and Subway to LA

Train and subway to la. 
To see a play. 
There's a time for everything
I always swore I would never go 
Beneath the streets to ride 
In the dark 
In earthquake country 
I kept my eyes closed 
The whole way. 

Relieved there was no 
On the Richter scale . . .

A Play about Mormons
In darkest Africa 
They come through my neighborhood-

But what about women ?
What about divine mother 
Don't they know her 
In her brilliant light 
What of their hearts 
And their bliss 
And the joy 
     Of the Holy Spirit 

What has that to do 
With golden plates? 
The gold would be the color 
Of the chakra that opens 
And showers us with
Droplets of 

Friday, April 4, 2014


Speaking to Siri 
Letting her right
SHe doesn't know right from right

I could say, letting her type
But then how would the creative process
Be affected by machine

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Blood From A Turnip

How to get more blood 
Out of this turnip?
Only so much income 
Inflation . . . Inflating 

I'm old enough to remember 
25 cents a gallon 
Difference was 
That quarter was made 
Of silver . . .

Scarey when you think 
     About it 
Now it's all bits 
     And bites
In an electronic 
     Brain somewhere 
Science fiction---
     Back when I 
Was reading 
     Science fiction -

And what happens when 
The sun spot comes 
And wipes away all
Traces of numbers from 
The giant inter-web-net
     Brain ?
What if it gets
     A headache ? 
Is there an excedrin 
     Large enough 
An asprin for that ? 

"Take two 
And call me in the 
Doctors used to say 

It's inevitable that someday
Something will disrupt 
It's concentration 
Computers. . .
I don't really trust such 
Complicated things 

And what about when 
They begin
To talk to 
Each other 

Where will we be 

If only I could add 
A few more zeros 
To the account
Zeros being worth nothing 
But turning 1000
Into 10000
Into 100,000

One could dream of 
Having a checking account 
Like that.