Gone Up in Smoke
The hourglass turned on its side,
And in that timeless space
The mind divides,
And staring in the mirror
I could see eternity
Staring back at me.
In one brief shard of broken time
All that I could call my mind
Leapt inside the glass.
All masks destroyed . . .
Gone up in smoke.
And then our eyes held fast,
And much to my alarm,
The image spoke . . .
Inside my ear sound awoke.
"Don," the image said . . .
"It's all a cosmic joke!"
Sound and Fury
Either the words we use
to describe what’s inside
are full of meaning--
they sound so meaningful
after all, as we spit them
hot from the edges of our imagination,
pummeled past our lips
they crackle and split
tumbling more words
steadily,
a lexical avalanche
rumbling down
the listener’s ear,
Or.......... Or..........
or the meaning is still in there,
and the words are clapperless bells
jumbled together,
struck from the outside,
rendering senseless clacks,
a madman’s symphony
with no tune
nor any melody.
Beach Thoughts
The same grey wood tossed and
Whirled in the white foam’s roar.
Neptune grinds a piece of time
And pounds the ocean floor.
The same green waves rise and
Curl across the great blue door.
A sandpiper stands guard,
One leg upon the shore.
No single sound, no thought,
No breath of air, no words more
Make this moment different
Than billions gone before.
The Anonymous Anemone
The omnivorous anemone
is immersed in anonymity
and surrounded by no enemies
but us.
This sedentary actiniaria
envelops each planaria
that comes within his area
of lust.
While engaged in this enormity
he behaves with equanimity
and creates no impropriety
or fuss.
He’d roam the sea’s immensity
but he’s stuck with great intensity
which gives him some propensity
to cuss.
I’m shocked at his audacity
he eats with great rapacity.
I fear there’s no capacity
for trust.
Though imbued with animosity
he has one great amenity--
his lack of any enmity
for us.
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Sonnet on Faith
The history of man throughout the years
Has spoken of the rituals and creeds
That grow along the bank of time like weeds,
Reaped by bloody scythes and aged in tears,
Lightly spiced to satisfy our needs,
Made sacrosanct by Popes and noble deeds
To fortify our hopes and quell our fears.
We’re told our thirst for knowledge will be slaked
If we but lift our glass to faith unreasoned
And swear an oath from which we may not shrink.
Though it may be no better broth to take
Than reason’s fruits without compassion seasoned,
It seems a bitter brew I cannot drink.
Sonnet on Reason
I find myself alive and well on earth--
A product of some pre-ordained design?
Or am I but a link in chains of birth?
Our origins be common or divine,
It matters not at all it seems to me.
The problem still remains we must survive
To choose the wisest path and try to see
A way to pattern chaos in our lives.
We’re warned that faith in man is faith in fool.
And yet no matter what I stand to lose,
I’ll seek the light and question every rule.
A leap of faith we make how'ere we choose.
I’ll put my trust in man and take a chance
That all we’re doing here is not a dance.
Bored?
"Bored....bored!" The man said he was bored.
"How could that possibly be?"" I implored.
"Well, there’s nothing to do now I’ve given up work.
I just clomp ‘round the house and feel like a jerk."
"Well, there’s plenty to do," I said with a grin.
I’ll just list a few choices, then you can dig in.
There’s lots of good books that need to be read.
Millions are hungry who need to be fed.
There are political scandals that need to be parried.
There’s graft and corruption some want to keep buried.
Powerful interests want to keep workers down.
You’ll see that reflected in your own home town.
There are ways to keep busy in working for peace,
In the South, in the West, and for sure in the East.
Restoring democracy, ecology, and schools to be run.
Health care, day care; there’s so much to be done.
There’s prison, economic, and justice reform.
So much out of balance that must get back to the norm.
More citizens are needed to be politically active.
Unless you fine more taxes--less service attractive.
AIDS patients, mentally ill, and the homeless need care.
You can close your eyes all you want, but they’re there.
There’s a great crying need for volunteers of all kinds.
We need all races, all sexes, strong backs and quick minds.
The list could goon for a number of pages.
The needs are tremendous for help from all ages.
If you are not outraged, you’re not paying attention.
You can help make things better, but it takes some intention.
So please don’t complain that you have nothing to do.
Just look over the list and pick out one or two.
Get off the couch, turn off the TV din.
Roll up your sleeves, and come and join in.
Free Form for a Bird Friend
There is much about you that reminds me of a bird
which cannot be named. Your sharp eyes and soft face
carry the dove’s beauty and the swallow’s grace,
yet there is the strength and will of an eagle
that cannot be tamed, and the hawks keen mind.
No falconer’s tether could bind you and no arrow
could stop your flight, though at times there is
the tenderness and frailty of a sparrow in the night.
I ask only to fly beside you.
I will not tuck you under my wing,
except to protect you from bad weather
and then to release you again,
to watch you sail on the air--alive.
I will not contrive to pluck your feathers,
for you must dart through the cloud’s core, and dive.
I only wish to share with you a moment of the climb
and to gather the wind together,
and to soar from time to time.
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