Friday, May 9, 2014

No Small Thing !

Butterflies circling -
Playing in a spring garden 
Breeze cooling -
The hot flashes. 
The morning tea 
Brings on 

Freeway sounding distant 
Today -
I slept last night !
And dreamed of 
Many things. 
Workmen taking my 
House apart -
Termites 
Eating it -
There was a dog 
On my lap 
At a race track 
Don't know what to think 
About that 
The man-friend was there -
But distant 

I have a friend who believes in 
Lucid dreaming 
I think I've done enough -
For one day -
And would rather not -
Dream at all 

Some say the butterfly dreams 
That It is a human sometimes 
Or that this world 
Is a dream 
And we will awake 
Some day -
The Buddha was awake 
And then had 
So much to say 
About it -

I'm tired of talking 
I have existential fatigue -
Along with being 
Old -

But I can give thanks 
For this shade 
And this way 
Of being today 

Nothing hurts 
I have food 
And a place to stay -

The hummingbird comes 
Around 
Curious -
And several types of 
Butterfly's 
Play 

If I were a painter 
I would paint 
- today- 
As such -
I am thankful 
I am not -
What a lot of bother 
With brushes and tubes 
Of paint 

I am only compelled to 
Try to describe -
In words 
The glory of 
Spring 

No small thing!

Sleep

Sleep -
It is a mystery 
To me 

This afternoon - late 
I lay down for a moment 
And hours passed 
- no one could have separated me 
From that 
What comfort - 
     What bliss 
What an opiate!

But now I wait 
     Late at night
For the idea to dawn again 
For the sleepiness 
     To descend 
Knowing that it's so 
     Necessary 
To the quality of 
My life tomorrow 

Fiddling with Facebook 
Looking up old "x's"
Feeling wonderful 
That I can -
That there is no parent 
No overseer -
To say 
Anything -
Ah 
What luxury 
It may not seem like much 
But from an  over controlled 
Childhood 
I still run -
I am rebelling here 
Staying up till 
One  
Hiding from 
Responsibility 

It will all be there tomorrow 
The lists 
Are still long 
I check off one or two things 
In a dulsitory fashion -
Until the next emergency arises 
And takes presidence 

But sleep 
(Which is what this was
Supposed to be about) 
Is no where to be found 
No where around 

As we get older 
It gets more complex 
Some nights - awake 
All night 
For no apparent reason
Just 
The sheer cussedness 
     Of life 
The more we fight and try 
To sleep 
The further away 
It drifts 
Anger doesn't help 
Murdering helpless pillows 
Beating on them 
Cursing - 
At three or four in the morning 
Is probably 
Counter productive -
Not in the 
"Sleep therapy"
Curriculum 

Was that a yawn? 
The beginnings of a possibility 
Of a return 
To the blessed state 
Of non-existence ? 

One can but try . . .

"X"

Dodged a few bullets 
Lately -
Thanking the gods 
For that -
Waiting for the next ones -
Knowing they'll come. 
Also knowing that - that's 
Life 

Obviously ordained 
To be that way 
And therefore 
Somehow sacred
No matter how much "i"
Do not approve. 

Wondering 
This evening about 
The incredible conduct of 
"Friends" 
Very "x"
How could they imagine that 
Cruelty and jealousy are
Appropriate -
Here 

Don't they know 
It all comes back 
On us -
Our hearts are closed 
To the extent 
We close them 
To others 

I suppose they mean 
To hurt us 
Because they 
Have been hurt 
Before 

Forgive and forget 
Forgive and forget 

Should have all been done 
By now