1998 Series - April #1

 I.

I am not sure if I want you

in my life anymore...  I am

not sure where my life is

going or where I will be in

the near future...  all I know

is what happens to me from

one moment to the next and

trying to respond to these

influences leave me with

the feeling of not knowing

what might be best for me.

II.

you like your independence

and so do I but as you do

more and more of that which

you do then I seem to want

you less and less these days.

III.

I can see us

gradually...

pulling away

from each other

during this year

of our separation.

1998 Series - March #5

 

I.

in the valley, I sit with

the silence of nature

and her songs forming

the background music

in which my thoughts

flourish as my body slips

into the gap between

reality and dreams...  a

meditation place where

time and space are easily

suspended and a serene

place allows my energy

to join with the whole,

being part of the one that

always was and will be.

II.

I have no control over

who you are and what

you want to do...  as

you have little control

over me...  so, I must 

learn to let you you be

what you want to be

and when that corresponds

with what I want to be,

then we should enjoy it

for as long as it may last.

1998 Series - March #4

I.

I am on the edge

of prosperity,

feeling safe

but at the same time,

a little insecure;

I have heard the

promises of longevity

if I am dedicated and

loyal...  but the

reality is such that if

the funds are not there

then both me and

the position is gone.

II.

I have a little faith left

and each time I think

it is gone, it always

builds back inside me

just enough to keep

me going...  believing

that one day I will

receive what I seek.

1998 Series - March #3

 I.

there is a concern

for what is going on,

and there is a need

for balance...  but I

feel like my mind

and body are moving in

two separate directions,

neither one knowing

what the other one is

ever planning to do.

II.

I have put all my hopes

and fears into one package,

one lesson that may be learned

in one day or over the weekend,

and if, we wish too hard 

for something to happen, the

wish usually goes to those

who are expecting nothing.

1998 Series - March #2

I.

there is no one

on whom

I can rely on

except myself;

there is no one

on whom

I can trust

to care about

and plan

my future;

there is no one

on whom

I can live

except you

and it is doubtful

that you will

remain in my life

much longer.

II.

I read the books

I follow the lessons

I make the attempt

to remain detached

but the uncertainty

leads to anxiety

which causes frustration,

ultimately depression

and no one gives a

damn about how

that may affect me

except me, I see.

1998 Series - March #1

I.

there are issues

of concern with

this woman I have,

we are not sure if

we can trust each other

and while we

blame each other

for all, we have done

or said...  we both know

that a lot of blame 

has to be assumed.

II.

I look around

when I am out

wondering if

and when I will

come in contact

with the partner

of my dreams,

and it seems the

more I wonder

the less anything

happens and the

more depressed I

become because I

am getting nowhere.

1998 Series - February #5

 
I.

I am sorry that I have not

live up to your expectations,

but after fifty years, all

I ever wanted was for you

to accept me for who I am

without making me feel guilty

for what you were doing.

II.

take away

all these issues

surrounding

the controversy

in my life

and what do

you have left,

that is me...

my essence.

1998 Series - February #4

 

I.

my thoughts come quickly

my tongue is not silent

my mind races to prove

what I know to be true,

my hearing is not the issue

but my filters are...

yet to myself and my beliefs

I am true...  changing only

for those to whom I report

so why do I feel

I am on murderer's row?

II.

I want my life

to finally be

something...

worth fighting for...

and I finally wish that

my parents accept me

for who I am

not for what they

think I should be.

1998 Series - February #3

 I.

they fill my mind

with their memories

expanding my senses,

my awareness,

my inner sensitivities,

letting me see what

has been hidden and

may remain that way;

they fill my mind

with their dreams

of desires

and passions,

leaving me restless

and anxious,

unable to suppress

their expressions;

they fill my mind

with a strong intent

a unique motivation

regardless of the time

or other constraints

and one day all that

fills my mind

will be surfaced

and fulfilled.

II.

this is a short month

and will be filled

with great expectations

and I know that

who we were

at the beginning

will not be who we

are at its ending.

1998 Series - February #2

 I.

I am not wrong

in my beliefs

and don't see that

I need to change

what I am doing

simply because

they want me to.

II.

will there be enough time

in these days upcoming for

me to fulfill my fantasies

and explore those areas of

my hidden desires, so that,

I will never feel I have

something else to experience?

III.

there is no room for

self-doubt in my mind today

I have cured myself.

1998 Series - February #1

 I.

life is not easier

as you grow older,

it becomes harder

because it is filled

with attachments

and appraisals

of self-worth...  and

the stress that it creates

is what shortens our lives

and ruins our relationship

and makes us bitter

towards our fellow man...

life offers us other

examples of how

we must live,

learning to accept others

and their opinions,

behaving in a way that

is deemed necessary

because it puts us all

on the same path

with not who is right

and who is wrong but

with accepting life the

way it is supposed to be.

II.

we earn our way

as we go,

paying for this...

saying that...

ignoring what does

not seem to agree

or does not fit

with our appetites...

and who knows

all that we have missed,

but it takes courage

to admit we were wrong,

and it takes salvation

and inner peace

and a desire to know

that all you do is

not for you but because

it was meant to be.

1998 Series - January #5

 

I.

she says that I don't love her

anymore because I did not 

make love to her on her

birthday...  and if, I remember

correctly, it was not intentional

but she did not make love to

me on my birthday either and

mine was a special one as it

was my fiftieth, I believe.

II.

I have found that some pens

leak or build-up ink at the

point while others don't...

and it is such a minor issue

that no one cares about it,

yet, it is another example of

not only poor workmanship

but management as well since

there is nothing done about it...

but I am now told that there

are actually few complaints

and if there were more that

nothing would ever change

as it is not cost-effective.

1998 Series - January #4

 

I.

I have you to thank

for my recovery and

my trust in myself to

believe that all of this

was entirely possible.

II.

they meet each day for coffee

all quite innocent...  and, I

remember how easily that

deceit was for me in my earlier

years...  but, as I watch them

I know how wrong it is and

know that all my secrets could

have been easily taken that way.

1998 Series - January #3

I.

when I was weak 

you could control my

thoughts, convincing

me that there was 

something wrong with 

me and the irony of

it all is that my strongest

trait is my self-confidence

and that was almost

lost to you and I really

believe that someone

was watching over me,

pulling me out and away

just in the nick of time.

II.

this first weekend

of the new year,

will be beautifully

warm which is a

nice way to welcome

in the next to the last

year of this decade

and of this century.

1998 Series - January #2

 

I. 

I see you in my heart

I see you in my mind

I see you in nature's beauty

all around me and it gives

me strength and the courage

to give and receive love...

to forgive those with whom

I have come into contact

who found it difficult to

understand me and see what

makes me uniquely different.

II.

there is something in you

that makes you dislike

yourself and because you

feel the way you do, you

want to make those who

are close to you feel the

same way...  making them

as crippled as you are...

taking care of them in a

way that keeps them from

not wanting any other.

1998 Series - January #1

I.

I have rounded the corner

reached a turning point

found a job and God

all at the end of the year

and grown into the kind

of person, I should have

been all of my life... 

found through misfortune,

building back self-esteem

self-confidence hidden

behind the self-centered

life, I have been living.

II.

there is a new zest

in my life today...

and it does not come

from the presence 

of a woman or

sexual intercourse...

but, from a feeling

inside that makes

me feel as if I am

worthwhile and

significant and am

making contributions.

Silent Secrecy

flickering moments flit

by my consciousness,

grabbing those we 

want to keep...

letting the rest flow 

into oblivion where

the crime of awareness

is no longer an

obstacle to growth;

moments move in a

staccato rhythm

bouncing off the rooftops

of our imaginations

like a dancer clicking

their way across the stage;

single file moments

move counter-clockwise

to the reality of time

that has positioned itself

on our front doorsteps for

renewal considerations;

fugitive moments hide

in the dirty canals of

the subconsciousness

hoping to escape the

tortuous crimes for which

they are accused...  by

the masters of the universe

whose goal is to maintain

its existence in silent secrecy.

16 December 2021

New Days

awaken

to the morning

and its freshness

of a new day,

new possibilities,

new hopes of

unfulfilled dreams...

awaken

to the dawn

of a new reality

where actions

protect us all

from each other and

our insatiable greed...

awaken

to the beginning

of a new era

where we dazzle

our future by

understanding our past

and the legacy

it has provided to

the rest of the world...

awaken

to the new day

where you decide what

your future will be

and not the past

that has suppressed

all your dreams.

16 December 2021

Conveying Goodbyes

waves of cold brush through

the valley like a painter's brush

changing the landscape from

one shade to another...  we

bask in the warmth of the

sun through window glass

like a cat warming its attitude;

leaves have all fallen to the ground

except for a few who have decided

the odds are in their favor...  we

wear the trappings of the season

looking forward to its conclusions

as would students in a lecture;

rumors of rumors pass from one

to another, speculating in a random

way as to the future of our weather,

knowing all along that it is much

milder than it ever was before...

we pull the shades when dressing

expecting Tom's arrival sooner or

later even after moving from the

country to the outskirts of town;

a warming trend dances in our memory

wonding if it is full of truth or just

another belief to which we cling...

waves of cold brush through

the valley and we cringe at the idea

that warmth has abandoned us

and followed the migration of bird

instead while forgetting to convey

their goodbyes before leaving.

15 December 2021

Reminded

unraveled thoughts

lay on the floor

of old feelings

believed to be

buried forever...

cruel ties to the past

lingering...

pronouncing...

demanding that

a return to their

existence be granted;

long term doubts

open the doors

allowing the fugitive

memories to appear

on the screens

of our vision

as it degenerates

into blindness,

and we must rely

on what we know

to be true,

even if,

it has been

modified now

to fit the new

circumstances...

we remember not

that which we should

when reminded.

15 December 2021

Our Valley

the valley opens us her arms to seasons

like a prostitute opens up her legs to strangers

and receives them as the ground receives

the rain, wind, sleet, and snow and the

occassional tornado that destroys our villages and homes;

we are protected on both our flanks but

vulnerable in the middle where all the trauma takes place

and those of us who live within her protectiveness

scream with delight when the onslaughts have subsided;

everyday we stroll past her rivers and creeks

beside her farm lands and around her lakes

we swim im her waters and eath the food from her land

and we give back by remaining here as long as we can,

we put flowers on the graves of our loved ones and we

forgive not the carpet baggers who have come here to stay,

and pride is in our refusal to live by their rules,

we teach our young how to follow the Golden Rule

unless you or your kind are around then we retreat inside

our mental homes into which you cannot invade

and plan out our strategies for when the seasons change;

the valley opens up her arms but only to those

who can appreciate her charm and her beauty.

4 December 2021

Inclination

the slope of the inclinations is

obvious when turning our backs

on what the mind presents

to us as our reality...  we see no

future in the politics of our

current misrepresentations as

either decisive or indecisive yet

we struggle with it all the same;

the slope of our inclinations 

dates back decades perhaps

when we debate not  who was

right or wrong but who had

the most power and control to

exact on an inferior population;

the slope of our inclinations

were neither religious or spiritual

but were manifested in our

altered DNA, unbeknown to us

and was created beyond our wills

and our unprotested authorizations;

the slope of our inclinations from

family to family around campfires

that strangers taught us how to make

and as these fires grew larger and

sgtronger so too did our needs to

find new spaces in which to live;

the slope of our inclinattions

grew beyond our ability to perceive

that which had always been right

in front of us...  our freedoms.

4 December 2021

So Many Meanings

words no longer fall on deaf ears

a silent majority stands above the fray

preachers carry guns into churches

choirs sing of the coming rebirth

parents reject new waves of influence

bottle lines are drawn on streets

law enforcement retires from service

lawlessness runs rampant in our cities

leaders behave lis ostriches as

division separates rather than unites...

we are in despair as we desparage

each other along the lines of our color

that we fought so long to eliminate...

dancing with clowns are the signs

we carry with us into the streets of

the cities in which we were once

proud to live but now renouce

because of all the crime...  we hate

our brothers because of their color

and we renouce our sisters because

of their false claims...  immigrants

flood into our nation like the plague

written about in our holy book of

fears while we pray to our new

financial gods for a little relief...

we hunker down like mules hoping

the change we resist disappears as

fast as it arrived, making sure all our

food is eaten and none thrown away

to the rats who now patrol our future...

chanting the word that have so many

meanings that it's hard to tell their truth.

4 December 2021

Samuel

the pale blue water reflects

the mountains and the trees

and the smaller bushes that

grow along the banks...

wild animals come down

to the shoreline when thirsty

but they pay more attention to

their surroundings than drinking...

darting heads from side-to-side;

fish jump out and back into

the murky water to catch a

glimpse of potential hunters

but there are none today...

a black snake suns its body

on a large flat rock beside a

a water turtle and small

birds bathe in the shallows,

flapping their wings as

larger birds of prey soar on

gusts of wind in circles...

imagination gives life to a 

painting that hangs alone

in a memory wall deep inside

the mind's forgotten cave

and retrieved only when a 

nurse prompt Samual with

a question...  the old man

spends his days starring out

the window at nothing much

wondering why he has been

left there by his own family.

2 December 2021

Interwoven Ques

a cloudless sky appears

outside the window once

the cold sun burns off the

transition from night to day;

a mellow moon remains

floating above the horizon

then disappears as if it was

a mistake to have been seen;

joggers run around the lake's

man-made perimeters in the

same colored sweats as the

trees, making them hard to see;

mindful memories of summer

campers linger in the air with

the smell of winter approaching

the fall decay laying on the ground;

house plants and house cats

sit by the window behind which

the cloudless sky was seen...

a pale blue sickly kind of color;

a complete range of thoughts

programmed at birth, float

through the emptiness of the mind

taking photographs as they pass;

humidors in spain are full around

the time of the holidays as are the

hookahs that line the streets of

the Khan - el - Khalili bazaar;

a cloudless sky appears outside the

window of my imagination today.

28 November 2021

Older Than Age

 with age comes misunderstanding

not clarity...  our minds work to

our mutual disadvantages, twisting

and turning our latent realities,

providing us with false narratives

of the life we failed to understand

or realize when we were younger;

we remember what we want to

remember and understand even less

of that which we try to remember

for the sake of our patient families...

with age comes confusion...

sight gives us glimpses of our

memories like computer storage

when disconnected from the network;

entitlements sit on the table with

all our other currencies of life that

we can no longer spend since the

was adopted by the I.M.F....  we are

finite not infinate in our pursuits of

happiness that drool from the corners

of our mouth as if we had a stroke;

we have children and siblings that

we no longer recognize because

they do not speak the same language

and all our spouses line up to receive

their daily abuse while we solemnly

gaze out the the window of the past

and into our landscaped future yard.

28 November 2021

Postponed Again

moments of clarity emerge

into consciousness...

eyes dialated and fixed,

all senses on the alert,

heart beats rhythms steadily

hairs on the arms raised,

tasting the environment

as it filters through the nose;

alert and standing ready

muscles tense but loose

nerves on edge but controlled

the mind searches endlessly...

desperate demons delay their

approach while the night

reconsiders its own shadows

whose presence in the darkness

is rather deceiving at best;

glowing embers reflected

in the eyes provide light...

the evil slides around our

emotions and in our forgiveness

allows the sins of our fathers

to catch up with all of us...

secrets squirm their way

through our pores like sweat

and our manifested truths

appear alone at dawn once the

killing of the souls has been

postponed once again tonight.

27 November 2021

An Inside Day

a mixed bag of cold greets us

this morning as the valley

opens its arms to the end of

fall and begins to transition

itself into december and the

end of a not too exciting year;

a mild frost lays on the ground

with all the dead leaves as it

waits for the sun to grow strong,

leaving a wetness in the air and

the body feels colder than it is;

the day's attitude keeps us all

inside our homes in flannel

clothes huddled around fires and

the churping of the wood as it

burns inside the place it belongs;

soups of all sorts:  potato, beef,

chicken, and vege cook on the 

stove to be frozen when complete,

for consumption later, serving a

bowl or two of each to be eaten

with grilled cheese sandwiches;

stir crazy cats venture through

portals in windows to embrace

the cold as their curious natures

warms them inside...  their esxploring

is brief as it would appear they

prefer the security just left...  a 

mixed bag of cold greets us this

morning when the valley awakend.

27 November 2021

Cocoons of Innocence

I see what I want to see

see what I am supposed to see

and life continues without

my consent or disapproval;

children die in foreign lands,

not because of internal wars

but because of famine...

we sit inside cocoons of

our own freedoms, complaining

not in the least little bit...  I

hear what I want to hear and

hear what I am supposed to hear,

my hearing fades with age

and the aides I have ignored

now have new meaning and

purpose which presupposes

all is well in this land of ours:

a fluctuating weight comes not

from lack of exercise but from

the amount my finances allow

me to purchase each week...

moments step on the toes of a

morning awareness that bears

only seasonal fruit...  still,

we are shielded...

we are protected...

we are isolated away from

all of the rest...  a vast majority

does not give a holy damn

about anyone else but themselves.

24 November 2021

Mix & Match

each day arrives without

hesitation...  the sun casts

down its warmth on us and

we bask in its luxuries...

we plant crops in the fields

around us not knowing from

whence the seeds come...

we harvest from experience

and lessons acquired at birth...

we are a gracious people,

thankful for our lives as we

understand little about our

origins...  tattered thoughts

surround us like garments

when the sun has decided

not to show itself, leaving

us cold and miserable...

towards the sky we are

looking, understanding not

its purpose but it is there

all the same and never

leaves us to sleep in our

own shame...  and as the

light comes and goes and

we see ourselves changing

from what we were at birth,

we are aware of so much less

than before...  our questions

have no purpose when the

answers are all the same...

we are left to mix and match

our attitudes and the darkness

leaves us seeing who we are.

24 November 2021

River of Dreams

in the puddle of a thought
a baby sits... splashing the
thought around withs its
small hands and feet...
a parent watches with a
little trepidation as the child
plays without supervision...
neighbors report the incident
to the local police who are
still on their morning break
and fail to respond in a manner
inconsistent with the times...
a man in a flannel suit arrives
and sweeps away the baby
along with the puddle into a
vacant lot where the noonday
river likes to nod to passerbyes;
the grammar lady arrives late
erasing all that had been written
in the day's journal, hoping to
teach a lesson by covering all
her bases in case a fowl word
was hit but ruled not at all...
all the leagues of writers
stood by, paraphrasing their
thoughts in an effort to save
the baby from the puddle
before it had been swept
away by the man in the
flannel suit into a recent and
unexpected river of dreams.


23 November 2021