Monday, June 9, 2014

Personality Test

Which would you rather drink?
Cool, clear water
Or primordial soup?
Which would you rather think?
Cool, clear water
Or primordial soup?
Into which would you rather sink?
Cool, clear water
Or primordial soup?
Of what would you rather stink?
Cool, clear water
Or primordial soup?

Depending on how you answer you may be:
A - An ecoterrorist who doesn’t use bleach or soap products.
B – Born to be a deep thinker.
C – Catfish noodling next Saturday
D – Damn if I know and neither does your shrink. 

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Musical Fallout Shelter


Music is fallout
That wrenches the soul
From the moment
To post traumatic,
Collecting memories
And compounding them,
Succussing to potency
The dissipating waves
Along the stress disordered shore.

Music is shelter
That protects the soul 
From its storms,
Two eyes keeping watch – 
The window of the soul
And the eye of the storm –
Envisioning shapes in the air
Only our ears can see
Of a postcard perfect shore.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Drifting By

Orion like a cool breeze wakes
Me from Scorpion sleep
Strikes summer mosquitoes
Away with my blood.

The big and little dogs bark
The pond sings back
In minor key
What is done is done.

Fine stranded dispersal
Of time
Seeding the future
Drifting by.

Me on my planet drifting by
Watching Orion in the sky.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Visas for Allies

Two syllables on the radio
Honor
The word heard
In two contexts
Theirs and ours.

Our captain asks,
". . . what good is our word?"

In a country made of words
We the people
Need allies.

In one nation under God,
Theirs and ours,
We should not have to fight
To keep our pledges to our allies
And our ally in our pledge.

It is a dishonorable discharge to us all.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Face in the Wood

Gnarled face in knot of wood
Stares back through wall of time
The lines of which unravel
Revealing strength of face
I would follow into the polished wood
And imprisoned world of spirits there
Where gods once walked in natural forms
As white horse emerging from morning mist
Or wolf plucking dewberries with gentle fangs
But the wild wood hewn
Can only compel my gaze
And whisper to me now.