Rain Slurs

Fences of rain

fall to the ground

in rapid succession

smothering themselves

into the ground before

assembly can be

uniformly completely;

random rain replenishes

the dry soil and

encourages the growth

of all that which has

been discouraged

as we struggle to

remain free and clear;

the hooting of owls

deep inside the dark

woods announce

the rainy combatants

and the foggy conditions

of the breakdown;

worms slither away

from their slimy holes

and potential hunters

for silver hooks on which

they have too often

found themselves hanging;

Birch trees illuminate

the entrance and candle

fumes darken its walls

and somewhere in all

this utter wetness, one

can hear the sounds of

tomorrow's birds...

18Sept16

Pottery Mud

As long as this day has been,

it has rained onto seasonal

grasses and onto the homes

of all our constituents as if

the water is trying to wash us

away or at least cleanse us

from all our wrong doing,

before the mud is made and

more pottery must be sold;

at the doors of the wicked, we

sit in the rain waiting for a

slice of salvation that never

seems to arrive when expected

and we never seem to learn

that which we have forgotten

since the deluge no longer

represents our timely rebirth.

18Sept16

Scooping Poop

Into the litter box of life, I fear I peer

wanting to separate the good from the bad

so that the ingredients last a little longer,

but not too long that it begins to smell,

hoping that all those cats who venture here

will remember their basic instincts and

all my scooping will not be done in vain.

28Jul16

Watching

Wisps of wind fall down

across my shoulders like

water from a shower head,

cool sensations radiate

shivering slides down and

bubbles up the skin that

otherwise would have been

smooth and forlorn in its

dutiful appearances way;

Sprinkles of a dewy rain

speculate through the screen

landing on the window sill

as if wanting to be seen but

in a more grateful way and

not because it was forced or

not perceived as such like;

dreamers slide across the wet

road on rickety skateboards as

if “cool” makes no difference

and the chill that we feel is due

to low income housing nearby.

18Sep16

Rain Puddles

In almost silent harmony it falls

hitting the ground in puddles,

slippery and sliding after wards

as it slows down the approaching

and offers others, like myself, a

chance to see its ending rhythms;

slow fall to free fall to fast fall

it makes no difference at all

when it pounds relentlessly upon

the surface of the ground and when

it absorbs all it can, it is channeled

away as quick as it had appeared,

the path of least resistance sideways;

not so permanent a fall as it
could have been what with all the 

parched feelings and all,

but leaves no trace as to
its origins norwhere it might just
be heading to since it snakes away
undetected and we remain high and
dry inside our suburban homes;

it falls as if impatient with the sky or

with some angel's demon up there
that might have encouraged it to
fall orif it just might have slipped
away from it all and no one cared
to see where it had fallen since
falling away from its intended;

and, we make seasonal adjustments

now that it is fall and the turning
leaves have fell, but unlike like a
tree makeno sound at all when
hitting the ground except for the
 puddles into which it might
 have fell straight away;

and, if it had, we would make
forthno  declaration of claim or
denial, save for those into
which we have stepped.

18Jul16

Attacked

a forest of sea water is
directly in front of me
everyday since my chair
faces this one direction,
and, when it does, I fear
the water that seems to
be attacking me will
eventually overcome me
if I sit here long enough
for that folly to happen.

30Jul16

Imagining

red eyes in the sky
float down and dance
just above the horizon,
with a blue sail hoisted
for the puffy nose;
the face enlarges as the
red eyes drift farther apart,
leaving my imagination
wondering if it was worth
all the effort to see; and,
if a better use of my time
could have been available
if the time had been taken.

30Jul16

Beach Views

in from a different direction, clouds blew,
helicopters swerve and fly in between,
banana boats slide and glide along the surface
as temps approach the century mark and
tourists stand at the water's edge flapping
as jellies have been seen nearby by them;
umbrellas backwards slanted protect
underneath dwellers from the moving sun,
coolers, lined up behind them in shade
and blankets, fashionably laid down offer
comfort to those who want to use them;
sand castles and peach seeds cover the
landscape of the shifting sand with an
occasional apple core rolling by hopping
as mechanical sand sweepers clean up
while families sleep in somewhat longer;
big wheel buggies bounce through sand
the relatively short distance to their chairs,
loaded down with enough to share with all,
and the  game plays out each summer until
the last one to school is gone and we be done.

30Jul16

Oiled Bodies

the waves foam like
rabid dogs coming ashore,
leaving us wondering
why we are here;
sweltering shade sweats
oiled bodies under
umbrellas as those who
are more brave, stand
just inside the water;
Christmas Carols,
far from the summer mind,
ring in our ears,
when ice cream tunes are
played out on back streets;
mental abbreviations
fall on deaf ears...
water beckons the over-heated
and summer
once again shares her
tanned fascinations with those
who want more color.

29Jul16

In Particular

as remarkable as
it may seem to you,
we are unremarkable,
in that, we are no
different than other
humans, even though
many perceive many
difference of a rather
unique nature, thereby
convincing the observer
to believe that there is
an inequality that can
be quantified boldly
and even expressed;
but, they would be
wrong in their analysis
as they attempt to
make something out
of nothing in particular.

29Jul16

Beach Time

angled wind blows westward,
in from the east,
but our loose sand location faces
a south easterly direction;
waves assault the shore northwesterly,
allowing hotter conditions felt
than they really are;
umbrellas, tilt into the wind
like palms in a storm,
yet the weather shows no
inclement inclinations;
we bask in the sun like
Amazon turtles on rocks and
our admiration for dark colors
is a summer-time fantasy
that bends in different directions
when the weather cools down.

29Jul16

Walking

some walk for pleasure
some walk for exercise
while others
walk because they can;
it is what they do
when visiting here
and yet,
few continue walking
when they leave
since there is really
no time left
in each day
other than what we
typically do when
not vacationing.

28Jul16

Sometimes

Sometimes,

when life is not

about good or evil,

we can see the truth

of its purpose clearly

an d understand that

we are ever so minute.

Age of Accomplishments and

Discoveries, and

Enlightenment, and

Existence, and

Purpose, and

Meaning; but,

We live in a fishbowl

We work in a zoo

We die according to age and disease

We are temporarily unique

We suffer unnecessarily

We trust the process

We have faith in something even if it is just in ourselves

We are without burden upon death

Sometimes,

when life is not

about good or evil,

we can finally see ourselves

and understand that

we are all we have,

especially when we die;

so, family is always

family when we live and

Sometimes,

it is just the way it be.

12Jul16

This Day Lives

through my open doorway the
dark blues of morning, I see,
the sounds of birds
and of the slow winds blowing;
a few cars pass by on the road
behind me as I sip on coffee
too hot to drink any faster;
life around me grows and as it
grows, I have less days to live,
and I wonder what I will miss
when the day finally arrives;
dark blues change to light
and more birds begin to sing,
letting us know this day lives
and to assume anymore would
be in the world of conjecture;
the heart of the day beats
boldly as if with great ease
and if it were to rain or snow
this day would still live on.

11Jul16

The Wicked

the wicked have no reason
to live with the rest of us,
tainting the foods of our life
with their sweet and sour words;



but, with us they do live
and taint our foods they do
changing thoughts and feelings,
briefly converting us into who
they have become by another;

and, from this same will
we must drink their water
while not urinating on our
own happiness in the process
and not as often as these
wicked individuals want us to.

11Jul16

Unto Ourselves

doors to the future open

when doors to the past close,

we rob from one

to have the other

without the slightest remorse;

we steal what we cannot have

locking away the rest so

it is not stolen from us

and praise the day we

realized how life would be.

                                                     11Jul16

Pretending

we pretend to love

we pretend to care

we pretend to forgive

we pretend to forget

we pretend to enjoy

we pretend empathy

we pretend compassion

but, only when we have company

so they will not know the truth.

11Jul16

For a Reason

the fan blades swirl
down coolness,
hand between legs
outside pitch darkness
to start the day;
mean cats
attack each other,
I just observe
drinking coffee
writing down words
concerning life's pleasures
that allude me;
memories fade silent
an empty mind
with no door to close,
shattered beliefs lay on the
ground in the daily dust
of too much too soon;

ceiling lights illuminate
and what I don't see clearly,
I don't see at all and
life seems to be this
way for a reason that
is alluding me...

11Jul16

Muses

Sometimes,
the words are not there
and no thoughts appear
about anything and I
wonder why...
I am so hollow inside...
when, I have been
flowing so freely
all those other days
and believe
these inspirations
have left me;
there is no remorse
no envy of others
just a flurry of questions
and a wondering of
what to do now.

9Jul16

Light

we awake inside a storm
of daylight, a penetrating
blindness that will never
be as self-correcting as
it once was, and we seem
to be ok with that just as
we are ok with the light
that made us that way,
even though collectively
we had little choice there
yet plenty of time to sleep.

9Jul16

Filters

life filters out the world

just as a properly functioning

liver might do until the

world's toxins overwhelms

and terrorism ensues;

from crisis to crisis

we now live,

foreign bodies invading,

killing cells and the like

and all we can do is

change filters more often.

9Jul16

Rooms

there are rooms within rooms
within rooms, within rooms
and there is no end in sight
as these rooms continue as
far as both eyes can see, just
in case one eye betrays me;
and, within these rooms are
endless amounts of different
kinds of furniture which makes
no sense to me at all, yet, it is
as true as truth can be and all
the people visiting can walk
easily from one room to the
other rooms as if there were
no rooms at all just a weak,
temporary imagination that
seems to allows this all to be.

9Jul16

Tiny Hollowness

there is a hollowness
in my soul that
can never be filled,
as it it just an
emptiness that must
remain for life and
as one walks around
on two feet and
see with two eyes
and hears most of
what was said with
two ears one carries
the empty hollowness;
but, is this one a little
different since it is
like a vacant lot on
which one cannot build
and not even a pack
of tiny animals would
be allowed to play there
and if it is, then why
try to fill it at all?

9Jul16

Take Me Away

demons of the mind
come out to play
this day as tomorrow
will be too late;
rally around as
you have done before
and take me to
all those places you
have taken me before;

demons of the mind
come out to play
this day and help me
to make my last days
the most pleasant ones,
as I grow weary of
this bed in which I lay;


demons of the mind
come out to play
this day and toy with
me no more...  take
me away forever
into place unknown
and sights unseen
and leave me there
if you dare, as I
will find my way back
as I have always done
before...   but, no more
you say and that's ok
this time I suppose.

9Jul16

Life Flies

it flies by quickly,
the night does,
as does the day,

and life as well;
generally,
we see what we
want to see...
hear, what we
want to hear...
and live,
how we want
to live...
until, such time
that our bodies
tell us differently,
and we either
adjust or do nothing,
in which case,
our short lives
become shorter,
and we say
our goodbyes
prematurely,
and are placed
in caskets
of metal,
spending
the rest of
eternity back
in the ground from
whence we came...
if, we believe
as we should
but, if we don't,
flies upon our grave
will sit, until,
all life ceases
to breath in air.

9Jul16

AGE: Friends First

in three months,
I will be sixty nine
then seventy
then eighty
and that will be it
as far as traveling
is concerned,
at least,
traveling a lot
each year
as we do now,
but maybe,
once a quarter
will do;
still,
what would one do
there...
just sit around and
wait to return?
So, what's the point
of living life
after work, if there
is not meaning
or purpose
or reason
for the journey,
except to be doing
something...
as opposed to
doing nothing;
but,
waiting around to die,
wondering
if it will be you
or your friends first,
knowing that
you have no friends.

9Jul16

Low Tide

rolling white waves
kiss and hug the
shoreline as lovers
might do...  fleeting
moments, almost
pointless before
returning back

into the sea from
whence they came;
rising sun,
to the left...
Southern waves
these be,
freely flowing currents
poised in front
waiting to be
photographed by an
unsuspecting tourist;
pirates plundered
these strong shores
years ago, taking
pleasures where they
found them, leaving
buried treasures
with the dead.

28Jul16

Waves

sounds of the day

surge like waves

against the shore

to which

all other sounds

subordinate;

we listen

for a break in

the conversation

in an effort

to hear

our name

being called

for breakfast.

28Jul16

On Holiday

the sun's birth
has not yet
occurred
but there is
light enough to see
and the sounds
of sight push
their way onto
the shore
as if
"rush hour" traffic
has been allowed;
people troll
the shore as boats
troll the reefs,
looking
for shells and fish
to sell locally
or maybe,
they are all
just
on holiday.

Dirty Waters

down the slippery sides
of my body, and
from under both arms,
perspiration slides down,
as it attempts to find
a cooler place to dry;
ocean sounds reverberate
and modulate
up and down the sandy coastline
while frolicking tourists
and vacationers pay
absolutely no attention;
no nudity prevails here as
Muslims have warned, but
scantily clad bodies,
showing it off anyway
are seen in abundance,
ignoring the warnings of
prevailing violence;
thousands of shells cover
the ground where feet are
to trod as they enter the water,
and some yell out in pain
when pierced in the skin
and squeals of delight erupt
even louder when water knocks
them down to the ground;
hands-free passengers on
banana boats pass by
offering no solutions but
wave instead
as if to say they
would join us if they could;
the news of the previous day
remains on the phone unread
and no one is enlightened
by all the expressed anger
in the world today as
no one want to
intentionally
ruin their vacation;
hot sand
on the feet
enable no movement
either this way or that as
the mesmerizing movements
of the murky, dirty waters
keeps us all in a trance.

27Jul16