The Planet of the Oreos (poem published in)
01 > The Planet of the Oreos (Poetry Midwest)
02 > 21st Century Valentines (Prism Review Poetry Sleepover)
03 > Green Bell Apples vs Dreadful Toenail Assholes (Lummox)
04 > Mans (Cadence Collective)
05 > 13 Ways of Looking at Little Chocolate Donuts
06 > My Object Life (Altadena Poetry Review)
07 > Joshua Tree Service (Phantom Seed)
08 > The Artisans (Love Poetry Lovers)
09 > Hills Like Hips
10 > Model (Sage Trail)
11 > Sunny Vale (YouTube)
12 > Musing (YouTube)
13 > In Memory of... (Poet’s Lane)
14 > Life After 50 Magazine (Poet’s Lane)
15 > Mythology (Cadence Collective)
16 > Demanifest (The Write Room)
17 > YouTube Recommended (Toucan)
18 > Thought I Saw Four Dogs on My Drive (Lummox 2)
19 > Samples from the Coffeehouse Window (Cadence Collective)
20 > Freedom to Drive (Cadence Collective)
21 > On the Way to Grand Junction (Cadence Collective)
22 > The Antique Traveler (Poetic Diversity)
23 > Joshua Tree Trip (L.A. Poet Society Contest Runner-Up)
24 > Not So Still Lives (Poetry Breakfast)
25 > Science (And It Happened Under Cover)
26 > Summer School Senryu (Poetry Breakfast)
27 > Road Bed (Poetry Breakfast)
28 > 1 A.M. (Poetic Diversity)
29 > Science Center (Poetry Super Highway)
30 > Issa Frequency (Writers at Work)
31 > Ozzy Man Dias (Poetic Diversity)
32 > I Float in the Alternate Sky (Poetic Diversity)
33 > Juke Box, or Vending Machine (Oddball Magazine)
34 > Cemetery (Tower Journal)
35 > After Xmas Dinner (Escapism Magazine)
36 > Petit Mort (Gambler Magazine)
37 > The Cloud People (Spilt Ink)
38 > Cosmic (Attack of the Poems)
39 > A Miniature World (Attack of the Poems)
40 > The Way to Orange (Escapism Magazine)
41 > Diurnal Love (Lummox 3)
42 > You make me feel (Short Poems Ain’t Got Nobody to Love)
43 > Life of Nightmares (In-Flight Magazine)
44 > The Rectangle, People (Moonday)
45 > Where the Road Ends (Indie Soleil Magazine)
46 > Blue Bonnets (Lummox 4)
47 > Showing a DVD on the Galapagos to a Ninth Grade Class (New Verse News)
48 > 25 Extremely Beautiful Minerals (Syzygy)
49 > Always Been a Surfer (Short Poems Ain’t Got Nobody to Love)
50 > Allusive Sights (Altadena Poetry Review)
51 > Semi-automatic Suicide (Lament for the Dead)
52 > Rectangular Man (Poetry Super Highway)
53 > Little Boy at the Beach (Dead Snakes)
54 > Nine birds (Brave New Word)
55 > Facebook Newsfeed Sonnets (Brave New Word)
56 > Human Minds (Dead Snakes)
57 > Blue and White (Highland Park Poetry)
58 > Dream Horses (Clockwise Cat)
59 > Three Layer Brownie (Altadena Poetry Review)
60 > On a Planet Where (Ekphrastic California)
61 > Transient (PCC Inscape)
62 > Walk a Mile in Black Nike’s (Dead Snakes)
63 > My Seventies (Anti-Heroin Chic)
64 > Alhambra Raccoon (Altadena Poetry Review)
65 > Asphalt Nature (Cultural Weekly)
66 > Morning Play (Terrene)
67 > Anthropomorph (Cultural Weekly)
68 > after the fall (Cultural Weekly)
69 > spirits of solitude (Wild Lemon Project)
70 > Extraterrestrial Report (Escapism Magazine)
71 > Moon Poetry (Metaphor Issue 7)
72 > Thirteen Ways of Looking at Poppies (Metaphor Issue 7)
01 > The Planet of the Oreos
so delightful this black oceaned and white
continented world
the round black framed white bellied
people enjoy eating
black crusted pizza covered with creamy
white topping
as they sit at their white table-clothed
black tables and
wear black and white dresses and suits and
ties simply to
exit their white windowed black houses and
walk on
white stone walkways around black bladed
grass to go in
to their black cars sporting white rims
which roll down
black (white lines through the middle)
highway arrive at
circular black concrete plaza and lounge
on raised white platform
dark and light mouths open in delight at
the joy of living
on a delicious planet with black sky and
white clouds except
for the fact their teeth are white with
black spots all over
which they try to clean by taking milk
river baths while
standing on black stones as the white sun
shines in the night
but mostly their poetry is ours...which we
can experience by
turning our video screens to the black and
white setting
02 > 21st Century Valentines
She Sony VAIO laptop emailed she wanted to
go out with me
I'm glad I had an iPhone in my pocket
She later Chocolate texted pik me ^ @ 8
I drove up to her condo apartment above
Starbucks
in my Subaru Impreza
With Coastal cats eye contacts, she stared
passionately
through dinner at Claim Jumper
I was pleased I previously stroked on Axe
She reached to touch my hand with an
Amalech
white heart on each fake red nail
Good thing I remembered earlier to pump
some
Equaline sanitizer into my palm
She moved closer in an attempt to kiss me
with Maybelline HydraStay Lipstick
I took off my Crest Whitestrip and quickly
popped in
an Icebreaker cube
When she gave me a peek at her Victoria's
Secret thong
I broke out a Durex vibrating rings condom
Afterwards she ingested her Plan B
morning-after pill
then said she couldn't sleep
So I sweetly slipped her a sample packet
of Ambien
Twenty minutes later I quietly stepped
away in my Uggs
Got back in my car and roared into the
day's Exxon/Mobil-fueled haze
03 > Green Bell Apples vs Dreadful Toenail Assholes
I want to write a poem about clipping one's toenails
That's my idea: to start with something dreadful
But then I think of what is even worse: assholes
And realize I need a pleasant counterbalance, like apples
A universally loved fruit, historically important, red or green
This contrasts wonderfully, causes my brain to ring like a bell
I decide I'll try to get every word to sound like a bell
For example, I dig the noise made by each clip of toenails
It's good to cut them, it's like eating something green
Which results in fine digestion, a subject considerably dreadful
To some, until you remind them that it is grown apples
Chewed and swallowed that help to unplug stopped assholes
You definitely want to keep doctors away from assholes
When they get a hold of you, you reverberate inside like a bell
Thus a diet of the good stuff is essential, like mature apples
And bananas and oatmeal and gelatin for your toenails
I hear it comes from animal fat--how nauseatingly dreadful
To contemplate--I've got to shift theme: a tree is green
That's better, our world is mostly filled with glorious green
Trees and bushes and grasses and hopefully not just assholes
That would be unpleasant, right? Another notion dreadful
Like oil slicks and car exhaust and stock traders clanging a bell
To signal the start of trading--there's a concept without visible toenails
How do we get back to nature in this concrete land of few apples
By focusing some time on what gives us a quality of living like apples
And take an afternoon off to walk in a park or wilderness that's green
A place where one can remove one's shoes, expose them toenails
Maybe even find a lonely spot to excrete onto dirt from assholes
Like design intended, remember we discovered how to cast a bell
Forge furnaces, direct sewage through corrugated pipes so dreadful
And what about us, the modernized people who've become dreadful
With our loud stereos, air conditioning, paper waste, prepackaged apples
Filling landfills and stopping up rivers--we need a real warning bell
To toll in our heads to call us to ponder again the value of green
Instead we drive and fly our cyberspaced opinions like assholes
Everybody's got a justification, but what about freeing those toenails
Yes, it's all down to toenails freedom or leather shoes dreadful
When it's the assholes that rule, we diminish the number of apples
So go for the green life and make your own cause a cleansing bell
04 > Mans
Let
me get this straight
these
hu mans are
divided
into two mans
man
and womb man
and
they have the nerves
to
differentiate each other
even
further by something
small
as color, tint, hue (man!)
Help
me understand
these
hew mans believe
they
can create
machine
exhaust
without
repercussion
to
whew man lungs and plan it
Then
these hee umans
put
chemicals in their food
and
bodies and act surprised
when
their internal
illnesses
multiply
like
plants die
Strangest
of all
they
have created
the
greatest good
imaginable:
poetry
and
soak their brains
instead
with
trivial
news
game
shows
video
consoles
slam
bang movies
and
occasionally
listen
to poetic words
only
in times of
untimely
death
Alright
I think I’ve
got
these hugh mans
figured
out they specialize
in
underachieving
so
as to resemble
their
gods who seem to
have
the same traits
No
wonder they’ve merely
existed
for a million years
been
“civilized” a few thousand
they
should be gone
in
a century or two
unless
they learn to make
a
hospitable existence
with
their plane knit
05 > 13 Ways of Looking at
Little Chocolate Donuts
(1)
It's
a hot humid day
The
market has put boxes of
Little
chocolate donuts
In
the refrigerated section
(2)
I
cannot turn down
That
chilled army of
Little
chocolate donuts
At
the checkout
I
tell my daughter
Go
run and grab a box
(3)
She
runs up
Then
back down
The
freezer aisle now
Carrying
a box of
Little
chocolate donuts
(4)
She
places the
Rectangular
white box
On
the black conveyer belt
Little
chocolate donuts
Ride
to the checker
(5)
I
gaze at the box on the belt
There
is the clear plastic window
Revealing
the dark round little donuts
Packed
together like a crowded bus
(6)
I
remember eating
Little
chocolate donuts
Unwrapping
a six pack
Indulging
in chocolate fantasy
Enjoying
them more day old
(7)
I
take the plastic bag
In
my hand
Weighted
by
The
sacred box
(8)
I
give the plastic bag
To
Kyla for safekeeping
While
I drive my gray car
With
gray fiber seats
And
black wheels
(9)
The
road is a fudge river
The
sidewalk is a dusty milk stream
The
front door is beige cake
(10)
Once
inside, the box of
Little
chocolate donuts
Rests
on the kitchen counter
Ready
to be fingered open
By
the salivating humans
(11)
Magically
the little chocolate
Donuts
are disappearing
As
family members toss them
One
by one into their mouths
(12)
The
last little chocolate donut
Is
gone
The
white box
Is
empty
(13)
Two
days later
My
waistline has bulged
I
have been eating
Too many little chocolate donuts
06 > My Object
Life
my street is usually
quiet...sometimes it can't control itself
my apartment ain't getting any younger...just ask the walls, the sofa, the carpet, the drapes
my TV's feeling neglected (if it wasn't for the Lakers)
my clothes are a little concerned about belly weight
my car wants to believe I can continue to maintain her; I see her interior roof start to fray
my CD's wish I would still be faithful to them; lately I've been driving with MP3's
my cell phone doesn't like me to receive calls from the wrong poet, if you know who I mean
my wallet and refrigerator are OK, both could use the insertion of some lettuce, instead of the constant taking out of plastic
my computer's very happy; we touch each other every day
the microwave wonders when life will be cleaner
the clock knows I'd rather not look in the mirror
the bed remembers better nights
the tissue box worries though if I’ll ever cry again
07 > Joshua
Tree Service
“It's impossible to write poetry in front of the TV
Almost impossible not to write in the sun
In the woods, every breath is a poem
The words form in the sunbeams,
to those who look for them.”
~Daisey Verlaef
sun
in the sky
filtered through bands
of blue and white
land all a-round
mountains frame (surround)
rock strewn plain
worshippers gather
citizens of earth
stand with branches
outstretched take
in periodic warmth
between collected tears
even
rocks seem
to enjoy the hours
of light reflection
(effortlessly provide
shadows for respite
from constant brilliance)
through the unseen
companion who fills
space around us
we grow up and die
reseed the soil keep
the ceremony going
08 > The Artisans
we walk on a Tijuana sidewalk
and we are surrounded
by broken concrete
but it's alright
because she holds my hand
as we walk on the Tijuana sidewalk
and watch the handmade wares
hawked by vendedores
we don't buy anything
but we think about it
for our bedroom back in El Lay
and we hold hands and we kiss
as we walk the Tijuana sidewalk
and comment on which pieces we like
and talk ourselves out of buying
jugs, paintings, stained glass,
knick knacks, everything,
except the thing I like most
putting my arm around her as we walk
on a Tijuana sidewalk in the artisan
district
I take that home with me
and put it in a poem to give to her
she kisses me right away
just the way she did when we
walked on a Tijuana sidewalk
amid the picturesque rubble
and her long curly black hair
pretty enough for a Diego Rivera
09 > Hills Like
Hips
How
ingenious
The control for this MP3 player
looks like a speaker
I wonder if
anything else
is designed
like that
What...a
zipper is
generally
shaped like a penis
Oh yeah
And a button does
resemble a nipple
Wait
a minute
A wheel goes round
like the sun
The clock too
The teeth of gears
The body shape of
a door
The chair's got
legs
Cars
have faces
Maybe God works
the same way
The crown of a
tree (or broccoli)
The river flows
like a bloodstream
The ocean is an
inverse mountain range
The
Earth is a speck of sand on a beach
(or
is it the other way around)
And space from a distance
is like closing your eyes forever
(These thoughts
just traveled
like cell phone
signals)
10 > Model
My silver Saturn was parked in late afternoon shade, curbside on my street. But
the sun did hit the orange Lakers antenna ball on my car aerial as if it were a
perfect example of a planetary sphere suspended from a wand, complete with
textbook shadow. Only, it didn't seem to rotate, like a planet would, and there
were no visible life forms from this distance, as I observed simple perfection
from the sidewalk, a relative forty million miles away. Not an inkling of
embossed basketball lineage or hint of logo, until I went to open the front
passenger door to pick up my little black journal, tucked away from plain sight
at this angle, on the rear bench seat.
11 > Sunny Vale
Morning ball of fire rises
creating light blue sky
Black crow in tree branch caws
to the still high half moon
Air hugs the sides of passersby
whether car or man
on this asphalt river
Sidewalk banks decorated
with green oaks and bonsai bushes
They front each wooden box
where parked metal eggs rest
ready to convey via circular rubber
The small stick-like vertical beings
dressed like the flowers scattered
like ornaments through civilization
12 > Musing
Asked
Calliope to help me compact an epic poem
Said
first I had to consult great historian Clio
Rather
get into bed with Erato's kind of knowledge
Euterpe
may be kind enough to offer lovely lines
Spend
time in Melpomene's presence for those necessary tears
And
Polyhymnia's sonorous advice should make my poesy sing
Even
Terpsichore might dance out some mellifluous word symbols
Still
need leavening so to Thalia I'll merrily go
Only
then can this poet name stars by Urania
13 > In Memory
of…
He
lived to play basketball
wore
a uniform one year
He
loved to watch light
reflect
on man-made surfaces
He
basked in old movies
especially
ones with femme fatales
He
enjoyed dreaming of flying
in
his dreams
He
adored his wives
for
a while then needed someone new
He
sometimes didn't have enough
and
suffered for it
He
gulped in art
making
some best of all
He
was once a skinny guy
back
in the 80's thanks to sex
His
birthday was Halloween
and
he always had fun one way or another
He
held poetry readings
just
to share his addiction
He
thought cellphone photos
could
also be poetic
He
had great friends
who
were poets as well
He
didn't believe in Santa Claus
or
the creation stories
He
soared on the music of Yes
He
was happy for his children
even
if they were a coast away
He
smiled easily most of the time
unless
there was an injustice
He
heard The Beatles
and
learned the concept of artistry
He
gorged himself on Jawlensky
paintings
which made him feel alive
He
was myopic
that
didn't stop him from seeking
He
remembered his relatives
mostly
for their judgments
He
knew that 1984
came
to pass in 2001
He
masturbated his way
through
lonely times
He
lingered in Joshua Tree
every
natural place
He
endured small hands
but
boy could they write
14 > Life After
50 Magazine
If
I'm not going to be
rich
enough to give to charity
If
I can't be sexy at seventy,
there's
always plastic surgery
I
can still take care of business
rocking
with Randy and Fred
Read
a book in anticipation of a
horrific
heartbreaking long goodbye
If
I could I would get a reverse
mortgage
but I rent an apartment
I
buy my black tees at the thrift store
so
my style is already retropolitan
What
else can I look forward to...
trouble
sleeping, down a pill
Better
get medi-cal activated first
or
else fork the whole bill
Will
my retirement be enough to cover
a
pain in the neck, onset of diabetes
What's
that you say? I'll need a hearing
aid
solely because I rocked so much
Then
there's the challenge of conquering
the
chaos of clutter in my abode
Am
I too sentimental keeping my first drafts,
too
egotistical, even worse merely lazy
If
I move to an assisted living facility they'd
get
rid of the mess and everything I own
Will
I be lonely and then compulsively shop
for
material company I don't need on TV
Will
I succumb to a youthful scammer
charging
me 2200 bucks to pop back a breaker
Or
crack a joint when I'm making whoopee,
easily
replaced by a part for 20-30 years
If
I win the lottery, will there be time to buy
that
walk-in bathtub, laser vein treatment
(fixed
annuity, document shredder)
Finally
take that trip I never took to
paradise
in Pismo or Two Bunch Palms
Catch
Young Frankenstein, The Color Purple,
lounge
in a club with Natalie Cole
Maybe
a spa treatment will wash away
my
sorrow at wrinkling before the water
Don't
forget the vitamins, dental implants,
massage
therapy, cemetery plot
Or
can I just imagine myself a caterpillar
weaving
a cocoon to become a butterfly
15 > Mythology
"To such
endless impressions
we poets give
ourselves absolutely,
making, in
silence, omen of mere event,
until the world
reflects the deepest needs of the soul."
--From “Omens” by
Louise Gluck
O
Jupiter
you are
A
small hole of light
In
a darkening blue sky
Below
In
a pond on Earth
Ducks
swim, create little waves
Which
glimmer like ribbons
Reflect
lamplight
As
you and the moon shine
With
our sun's celestial power
(Are
you both her beloved flowers)
Only
you
Are
much farther
Than
our orbiting fragment
Born
out of a collision billions of years ago
O
Jupiter
tonight you are
More
than a twinkling dot
Rising
in the darkened indigo sky
People
walk by
The
pond and look
At
ducks waddling up
Easy to enjoy every day
I
want to tell them
Cast
your eyes high
Gaze
at the shining speck
That
doesn't seem to move
Yet
slowly rises
Like
the grand moon
Far
away where no
Eyes
can see a distant Earth
We're
just a pale
Blue
point in that night
Dominated
by many moons
And
nearby sister Saturn's rings
O
My
Jupiter you are
The
overlooked sight
Unseen
by most denizens
Mothers
and children
Throw
bread crumbs at
The
dark comical ducks in
The
park by the pond's shore
Don't
think to crane
Even
at the gibbous moon
Which
provides illumination overwhelmed
By
sulfur lamps on poles each evening
The
faraway planet
Hasn't
been this close
Since
1963 and not again
So
proximate until 2022
By
then I might be
Getting
ringed once more
Because
I am at the park
Waiting
for my lovely visitor
Who
appears
In
my life every day
And
I am thankful to the heavens
That
our sun comes up each morning
So
I can witness
The
moon at dusk
And
her eyes and smile
Beside
me like stars to a planet
Maybe
we will
Revisit
this location in
A
future close as our current
Earthly
rotating observation
Around
each other
Present
every diurnal
Forging
twilight sparks
With
circling tongues
O
Jupiter
this time you are
The
most welcome new guide
In
my changing evening sky
16 > Demanifest
I'm
losing interest
in
judging humans
of
aging earth
I
want to be
sinking
particles
into
settling sea
fertilizer
for
life
or
merely detritus
so
much
sand
lying
at
dark bottom
passing
centuries
as
seconds
over
eons
while
silent majorities
peacefully
respirate
taking
up space
on
a small planet
inside
spinning galaxy
littering
the cosmos
talk
about
immortality
just
sense
eternity
away
simple
existence
no
war sightable
somehow
closer
than
ever
toward
godhead
17 > YouTube Recommended
I
was The Moody Blues with a House
Of
Four Doors in front of me
when
I wanted to be The Marx Brothers
in
a Big Store on a chase
so
like Monty Python's Best Sketch Ever
I
found The Meaning Of Life
instead
of being a Stealer's Wheel
Stuck
In The Middle With You
like
James Brown I remade Something
like
Yes I covered I'm Down
I
took a line from Carl Sagan's Message
For
Humanity and made my Last Interview
this
Von Trapp Family asked What's My Line
as
I boarded a Rush Time Machine Tour
I
said our relationship has been like some
Disturbingly
Racist Cartoons, like a 9/11 UFO
and
The Allure Of Hip Hop-ping away
like
Rudy Francisco on the Final Stage
helps
me locate my Spirit Of Survival
because
Time Is Time has become my motto
I
am (He Is) Sailing to the Horizon like the Hawaii
Governor
who thinks he's Lazarus Once Again
to
look for Vangelis Alpha in Donovan Colours
through
Genesis Slippermen I will offer the Duchess Live
Christmas
In Heaven not The Knife
as
Seconds Out I'll Dance On A Volcano
do
my Rick Wakeman Solo before I go
on
the Grumpy Old Picture Show
like
Andy Griffith on Halloween
like
Harpo Shooting Out as he Goes West
Be
A Clown in the Train Station
wanting
one more Nursery Rhyme Concerto
I've
got to make like James Mason
drink
Thunderbird Wine
seek
my own Marlena Shaw to Teach Me
How
To Speak In Love for Madlib Infinity
Let
The Good Times Roll B.B. King style
I've
already Felt--Now She's Gone
Republican/Democrat
What's The Difference
you're
the Bette Davis in my Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame
18 > Thought I
Saw Four Dogs on My Drive
1)
Garfield & Oak
rubber
on asphalt
glance
over to right
wisp
of wind
blows
gray fluffy
fur
of roadkill
2)
Garfield & Monterey
to
the left on sidewalk
ponytailed
woman tries
to
keep pace with
large
curly white
poodle
on her leash
3)
Grevalia & Stratford
man
with shorts and his
tethered
brown bulldog
stand
behind
low
park chainlink
watch
people
4)
110 Freeway
wheels
on concrete
in
slow lane
black
plastic bag rolls
run
over by passing car
keeps
rolling
19 > Samples
from the Coffeehouse Window
Sandy blonde girl with ponytail
bobs as she hops the sidewalk,
carries a paper Mache head.
The earth must be so pleased
to hold her to the planet.
This globe has to love us all.
Shirtless shorn guy sucks a cig,
adjusts his long boxer shorts,
saunters across the crosswalk,
tosses a butt in the street.
The third stone loves him too,
or can we expect a quake?
20 > Freedom to Drive
two tons of steel and glass and plastic and
rubber
on tar and asphalt and concrete road to reach
an aluminum windowed and wood tabled
restaurant to gorge on cow and pig and chicken
and fish to fill belly and get in car again to
arrive
at mall steel and glass and stucco buildings
of
opportunity where inside you can try on and
plastic card or paper bill purchase yards of
cotton
and polyester and rayon and spandex then plant
jeans on leather and vinyl once more to park
wheels and chrome near a convenience store
of formica and chrome counters to buy a bunch
of plastic and paper packages bags and bottles
easily tossed in either receptacle or ground
and
subsequently re-enter a stucco and glass and
steel
reinforced building wherein clothes and food
and electronics are stored in wood and on
finished
floor made to outlast bone and flesh occupants
21 > On the Way
to Grand Junction
a man stands
shorter than the swath
of trees that line a turnout
looking up at the red face
of a rocky colorado cliff where
at the top a tree seems a dwarf
then the nearly white blue sky
itself minute compared to the space
above
that cannot be seen from this surface
22 > The Antique Traveler
read the classic poem
two hundred years
after sandy inspiration
saw those ruins again
what romantic poet decided
to capture of the passed
an attempt to warn the future
so we might recognize tyranny
when we experience it
but the 99% don't act as one yet
this empire's cycle continues
with the reassurance only that
kings and paupers die
buildings and slogans fall
fragments sink into earth
23 > Joshua Tree Trip
smiles in the car
two hours later arrive
petroglyphs on rocks
balance ourselves beside
boulders that dwarf us
we stroll hand-in-hand
past the many arms
of Joshua, single-fingered
Yucca, sit on stone “benches”
view Coachella Valley vista
Palm Springs tiny buildings
haze over Salton Sea
San Andreas Fault
pose with peaks
climb edges, bark
at the bluest sky
while nature’s personalities
show in formation
volcanic birthplace
rising and defeated limbs
perform poetry to space
Buddha-like mountains
silent sentinels patiently
outlast manmade windmills
24 > Not So
Still Lives
Sun
streaming through blinds makes oranges and apples in a basket on a wooden
dining table look like still life. Presence and aroma warm a living room so
much a tan carpet feels almost as inviting as earth to bare feet. Lone desk
lamp lights clay-colored table into a model of an urban landscape. Ebony laptop
dominates surface like a modern building made of metal and plastic. Its great
window, a screen advertising ideas of the world. A bottle of water nearby
glazes nearly empty of emotion, just condensation of an owner's breath. A
gentle mechanic whoosh and whirr mimicking a typing body's efficiency. Oh oh,
here comes another being to embrace the poet.
25 > Science
My
fovea centralis spotted her beautiful
countenance
The cilla in my alveolus danced at the sight of her butterscotchy epithelium
Epinephrine started to travel all over my biological unit
Every Haversian canal within me vibrated as my solar plexus
I couldn’t stop gazing upon the summer smooth clavicle of her statuesque gladiolus
The pons of my brain began to go insane at the vision of her Fibonaccian conchas
She had perfect maxilla zygomatics like a model above her mandibles
Even her bangled carpus was gorgeous; I ran digits over her ulna
And happily found our nares flaring jointly with joviality
Hoping she wouldn’t notice the occlusion of my rictus
I commenced to lick the philtrum above her luscious orbicularis oris
I could see intercostal muscles move in her chest as I cradled her lovely bony occiput
Proceeded to stroke both the sexy ilium and ischium of her delightfully curved coxa
Fondling her supple long rectus femoris led to caressment of her exquisite patella
When I reached the gentle slope of soleus, I knew I had to turn to the lovable mons veneris
After exciting those glans beyond the perineum
It was fun feeling her gluteus flex and my trapezius quiver
As the synapses in our cranial cavities mutually signaled dendrites to acknowledge intracellular ecstacy
My smegma-covered vas deferens injected spermatozoon
Followed by very welcome diastolic reactions of the cardio
26 > Summer
School Senryu
(1)
Pre-Test
It's
like light rain
heard
outside a window--
students
writing.
(2)
Classwork
Binders
opening
and
closing--popcorn,
popcorn,
popcorn!
(3)
Friday Test
Chair
leaning back,
looking
for answers
in
the ceiling.
(4)
Student Desk
Orange
edged,
scraped
wood butterflies
leave
graphite droppings.
(5)
No Lockers
On
the tables of
the
Creative Writing class,
Algebra
and Calculus books.
27 > Road Bed
lying
on her side
like
she was sleeping
golden
brown fur still
absorbing
morning sunlight
so
intact so peaceful
cars
drive around the feline
we
continue on asphalt
in
our metal machines
swerve
away from each other
on
the concrete river
off
the offramp
a
billboard reminds me
to
VIVE HOY con Pepsi
in
the midst of construction
28 > 1 A.M.
Coiled
blue lamp illuminates
Cork
coaster moon in black coffee table sky
As
laptop computer city is awakened
Then
this god creates a poem
By
touching lettered citizens individually
Gets
hungry for a post two a.m. snack
Grabs
a nearby bun star
Dollops
peanut butter and jelly planets
Chews,
looks outside his universe
Sees
a much larger one with all
The
props: houses, trees, streets, dogs
Deities
in cars, earthbound
29 > Science
Center
Like
crows
We
beak our way
Through
crowds
To
see Endeavour
Like
dogs
We
romp up and down
Stairs
to get to return
Our
purple poker chips
Like
dolphins
We
laugh at
Our
funny faces
In
the infrared screen
Like
chimpanzees
We
try to lift
The
5,000 pound pickup
Pulling
a cantilevered rope
Like
octopuses
Our
six arms
Reach
for our car doors
So
we can roll outta here
30 > Issa
Frequency
a
car roars outside the window, a
sudden
passing marked only by sound, sudden
shower-like
it comes, passes, goes, like a shower
falls
out of hearing as a memory falls
and
all one is left with is recollection, and
naked
at that, because the ears hear naked
I,
receive the signal, experience vibration, I
am
a natural receiver for existence, I am
riding
the waves which pass, reverberate, riding
on
an invisible wavelength of experiences on
a
plane making my path, my sense a
naked
transponder for what is here, naked
horse,
no, more like two hundred horses
31 > Ozzy Man Dias
Bumper
to bumper
On
the 10
I
stop listening
To
talk radio
What
do I see
By
the soundwall
A
romantic poet sits
Under
a tree
Telepathically
he
Admonishes
me
Are
you contemplating
The
best and
Happiest
moments
Of
the best
And
happiest minds
No
I am
On
the freakin’ freeway
Which
is sadly
Misnamed
during rush
Hour,
more like
Slow
minutes traversing
The
405 to the 10
Ready
to take the next
Exit
outta here
If
I can reach it
Instead
of bumping
Accidental
another
Frustrated
car
So
I’m not feeling
The
best and
Happiest
now
But
I am
Experiencing
the poetry
Of
the moment
Wishing
I was like you
Under
a tree
Overseeing
a crowded
Bunch
of verdancy
Rather
than a river
Of
concrete
And
so many
Land
boats
With
tense hearts
Locked
inside
32 > I Float in
the Alternate Sky
The
one that is wet
And
smells like grass surrounds
All
limbs stretched
A
la Leonardo da Vinci
The
sun cooks my skin
Like
I was a cookie
Half
of me submerged
In
the lake of muffled hearing
So
my eyes search the blue
For
other suspended travelers
Until
my fingers and toes
Turn
into raisins
Then
I emerge, a soaked beast
Lumbering
to a structure
Where
I can create thoughts
Of
cars whooshing past houses
Just
to step in the original soup,
Feel
creation from the first electricity
33 > Juke Box, or Vending Machine
When
I saw the round white buttons
You
could push for selections
I
put in four quarters and started reading
Let’s
see, Hot Chocolate
Will
I hear Emma, Emmaline
Or
should I be looking for a cup slot
The
next one said, Whip
(Devo?
Whip it good?)
Maybe
this is merely a dispenser
But
then to the right of that
Spelled
Cream, I imagined being
In
a White Room with black curtains
Instead
of the sound of a condiment poured
The
clincher… at the end I gazed upon
Double
Sugar… code for The Archies
Couldn’t
be just making cavities, yes
The
little rectangular clear plastic sliding door
Really
was my tipping point, I slid it open
Expecting
a pre-printed cassette single
Only
to grab a steaming paper cylinder
Made
me wonder what would have happened
If
another choice was Coffee Strong
Shall
I walk away because I don’t drink the stuff
Wait,
must listen, for a new music I’ve never heard
34 > Cemetery
below
blue Fall sky
clouds
hug mountains
afternoon
sun shines on
an
angel above a lawn
standing
upon a stone
surrounded
by entombed
dead
below green blades
sprouting
from a hill
sloping
down toward
white-lined
gray street
a
staccato flow
of
peopled cars
motoring
in hope someone
breathes for their love
35 > After Xmas
Dinner
Drop
chocolate kisses
Swing
open the candy bar
Step
on pepperoni slices
Enter
the electric toaster
Travel
along licorice rivers
To
get to the pumpkin pie house
Lighted
with shivering gum drops
Wonder
at mashed potato skies
Hold
onto a block of cheese
That
satisfies in the cold oven night
Smash
together baby tomatoes
Until
beef jerky gets devoured again
Liquor
crumbs are meant to be followed
To reach the next morning egg
36 > Petite
Mort
I
want to hold your bones
Proof we have loved long
Enough to make it skeletal
In my arms I will caress
What is left of you if you
Promise my remains too
One last hug before burial
Or we can forego the wait
Use fingers again to feel
Edges beneath soft skin
Create desire once more
Drink life fluid until still
Corporeal bodies pause
Thank God for the urgency
37 > The Cloud
People
visit
whenever they can
in
whatever shapes mustered
fluffy
mashed potatoes
rolling
cotton balls
wispy
dashing streaks
like
to be looked at
as
giant benevolent visitors
who
happen to dwarf
the
buildings of humans
ants
scurrying about
and
occasionally become
overburdened
by sadness
collected
from the ground
grow
large and heavy
loaded
with moisture
to
the point of becoming
dark
sopping blankets
that
can't help but burst
all
the tears of time
watering
for hours
nurturing
the earthlings
they
love to observe
floating
around the land
of
their evaporative birth
in
each sunrise and sunset
of
their brief constant
beneficial
recycling lifetimes
appreciate
our dancing
moister
than anything
except
mother ocean
38 > Cosmic
When
I look at the ceiling
I
see thousands of plaster
points
casting small shadows
Like
the surface of the moon
observed
by glancing upward
from
this earthly brown sofa
When
I open the front door
I
gaze upon dozens of white
clouds
travelling across blue sky
Like
pedestrians on a sidewalk
trying
to cross a wide street
whose
boundaries are out of sight
When
I go back inside I stare
at
my hand and behold skin
and
spots and lines and hairs
Like
the exterior of a planet
I
have known for half a century
shifting
slowly again to granule
When
I swing out the same portal
at
night my eyes ascend once more
into
a darkness without many stars
And
realize the lights we've invented
pale
next to the faint specks made
distant
by design and simply ask why
39 > A
Miniature World
In
my 9x12 bedroom I used to build
suburban
tract houses out of Lego
White
bricks and red windows and doors
complete
with green platform yards
And
flat gray driveways for Hot Wheels
to
return home from work roll-up and park
On
holidays pass paper marker-tagged
firework
stands or Xmas tree lots
Then
after a dinner of Spaghetti-O's
mixed
into chili back out and drive
On
bedspread roads to the great
black
and white drive-near TV theater
Sitting
atop my wooden dresser
to
watch Batman Star Trek
Gilligan's
Island Columbo
Mash
The Andy Griffith Show
Finally
driven down for bedtime
homes
temporarily relocated to my desk
Or
play earthquake broken apart
pieces
dumped in a Sears cardboard box
40 > The Way to Orange
I
dove in the stomach
of
a gun metal bug
Floated
down the river
sliding
past brown snakes
Crossing
under unfinished
castles
with turrets
Threatening
dragons lurched
hanging
tongues overhead
Diverting
to a stream
we
stopped and I was
Belched
out to walk
until
I could see
A
very pretty Ugly Mug
so
I sat below
The
twirling fans to
drink
in the poetry
Of
other beings still
breathing
around lava lamps
And
the giant Oreo
in
the night window
Ready
to fall into
a
steaming cup of neon
41 > Diurnal Love
in the
morning
one of us
has
to kiss the
other
before we go
out
into the
world
of car
accidents
workplace
shootings
police
brutality
when we get
home
in the late
afternoon
we have to
buss
just to be
glad
we made it
back
to our
domicile
of homemade
dinner
high speed
internet
in two
languages
night is the
best
because we
take off
the day's
clothes
lie together
in bed
turn to
press lips
in the dark
sometimes
become
animals
then hold on
like twins
in a womb
waiting to
be born
again by
sunlight
42 > You make me feel
like
a blue
butterfly
on
a pink
flower
like
a black
millipede
sliding
into an
earthen
hole
like
a gray
fox
snatching
a white
chicken
like
a green
Godzilla
stomping
on
the
rainbow city
and
afterwards
like
water
on
a sidewalk
evaporating
in
the sun
like
the wicked
warlock
of the west
melting
because
of Dorothy
so
this is how
God
felt
creating
infinite
universes
43 > Life of
Nightmares
Next
to a closed road overrun with overgrown trees
You
have become one of many abandoned castles
Now
I’m seeing dead dolls in thick branches
My
heart feels like an old turret tower
Disused
like an unfinished subway system
A
rotting shell left behind in desert sun
These
walls need paint, still seek love
As
snow covers the roof, blocks the doors
Inside,
memories, remnants of forgotten bodies
An
amusement park of long ago
We’re
off that plane, grounded, covered by sand
An
empty bed looks out dusty windows
Tries
to find the brain in the solution
Because
hanging rope is not an alternative
Nor
peering off a high stone bridge
I’m
like a boat in a lake sans water
Mindlessly
searching for an emotional twin
Nothing
else to do in this dark tunnel
Where
birds dive to their deaths
Rather
than be caged in open air
44 > The Rectangle, People
On
a round planet
With
jagged edges
And
irregular bodies
Of
clouds and water
Beings
with oval heads
And
four sticks emanating
Evolve
to build houses
Tables,
chairs, beds, pools
Vehicles
sporting wheels
Bats,
balls, tennis rackets
Radios,
record players, televisions,
Microwave
ovens, computers
(utilizing
dials, knobs, buttons, keys)
And
now personal L7’s
To
hold onto and look into
To
fill lumpy, bulbous minds
Concentrate
almond eyes
On
numbers, letters,
Pictures,
music,
Video,
games featuring
Recorded
voices and faces
Reminding
us we are
Creations
recreating
Recharging
our selfies
Until
inevitable recycling
45 > Where the Road Ends
A metal yellow diamond stands
sentinel
Marker to conclusion of asphalt
and culture
As fierce clouds shine over dark
grassy hill
Walk into abundant wildness and
see
Blue sky heat eat away clouds
while
Purple thistle joyously overtake
hillside
An oak tree cluster is familially
brilliant
Green clumps welcoming sun and
gravity
To almost reach slopes that roll
and stretch
Unhindered by wire or building or
car
Only footsteps and eyes should
touch this
Grown beauty which still exists
before
Civilization's beyond be again
encroached
Whereout lie concrete interests of
mere men
46 > Blue Bonnets
Sprout
out
Of
the soil
Seem
tall
And
thin above
Leafy
stems
But
dwarfed
By
surrounding
Big
cactus paddles
Each
playing
The
game of
Collecting
warmth
For
hours days
Maybe
months
Even
years
Wind
flowing
Over
their
Flat
petals
A
distant crown
Of
giant bushy
Trees
frame
This
bountiful
Green
chaparral
Under
wispy sky
None
of them
Can
see the
Seers
who enjoy
The
colors from
Life
given
Color-filled
eyes
47 > Showing a DVD on the Galapagos to a Ninth
Grade Class
Some
watch the projected video
of
blue footed boobies
diving
down like bombers
to
feast on an unsuspecting school of fish
Others
would rather stare
into
their small lighted rectangles
to
play a game, send messages
or
simply check out their faces
The
British narratress
twistedly
intones the wonder
of
sea lions snatching by the tail
swimming
rock-colored iguanas
And
what will become
of
the fourteen-year-olds
who
don’t care to take notes
on
this predatory world
The
gliding hawk seizes
the
frantically running lizard
The
bug-eyed orange crabs
pinch
off pieces of wounded seagull
Are
these students doomed
to
be pushing paper, repairing roads
selling
cars, hammering homes
stocking
stores, serving plates
The
volcanic islands themselves
are
born in the ocean
live
a few million years
sink
slowly to die
48 > 25 Extremely Beautiful
Minerals
Sunset Fire Opal
Flaming clouds in an
orange sky
Luz Opal
An aquarium of newborn
galaxies
Bismuth
Hold an electronic
brain in your hand
Opal
Light rays stream
through live seaweed
Amethyst Geode
A desert night brimming
with stars
Rose Quartz Geode
Embryo planted within
blood rich womb
Black Opal
Blue streaks flash,
dominate dark clouds
Fluorite
Verdant mesa atop
purple evening mountain
Opal Fossil
Brown rings of an
illuminated petrified tree
Burmese Tourmaline
Smoke rising from
gorgeous chemical fire
Scolecite
The thousand pins of an
albino sea urchin
Chrysocolla in Malachite
Watery underground city
of turquoise towers
Titanium Quartz
Prismatic rainbow
metropolis reflecting
Watermelon Tourmaline
A flag of wet pink,
band white, rind green
Rhodochrosite
Red Rubik's cube rising
from white grass
Azurite
Blue flower out of cupcake
stone
Realgar on Calcite
Red blood cells
attacked by white crab
Bismuth
Faceted flying saucer
emerges from matching shell
Uvarovite
Cubicular lime gelatin
snorted up nostril
Fluorite/Quartz/Pyrite
Little nuggets of
fool's gold on the hillside
Crocoite
Red vines protruding
from a brownie
Cobaltocalcite
Exposed lavender brain
in fluorescent light
Tourmaline on Quartz with Lepidolite and
Cleavelandite
Dragonflies in
midflight mating dance
Crocoite
Cinnamon churro sticks
stuck in sugar froth
Rhodochrosite
Pink marshmallow
bubblegum balls!
49 > Always Been a Surfer
As a teen I loved
surfing the hills
of Monterey Park
on my bicycle
(I even played
a surfer boy
in a Garvey Junior High
English class production)
Later living
in San Gabriel
I surfed channels
looking for good movies
(My only try
at body surfing
in Huntington Beach
resulted in a dislocated
knee)
Now in Alhambra
I surf the internet
on a laptop every day
to find inspiration for poems
(I love surfing
the lines I create
making images
and metaphors as I go)
50 > Allusive Sights
1
boy
with backpack
like
a tortoise shell
looks
up in amazement
at
a three story building
2
at
a checkout table
in
the drug store
a
small girl stands
like
a porcelain doll
next
to a shopping cart
3
in
the backroom
of
the library
a
cardboard box
has
been painted
and
crafted into
an
Enlarging Machine
at
the base of it
is
what seems to be
an
orange plastic lizard
that
darts underneath
4
on
the drive home
a
red pickup truck
with
a nearly bare
potted
tree in the bed
looking
like it was
straight
out of the movie
Harold
and Maude
5
jacaranda
petals
dance
across
a
San Marino
intersection
on
a windy afternoon
6
she
sat among the leaves
because
she felt like
basking
in the sun too
51 > Semi-automatic Suicide
When
my best friend lived
Next
to Lancaster we would ride
To
the Walmart so we could go
Order
a bag of dollar
Cheeseburgers
from McDonald’s
Eat
them at a table
Talk
about the economy
We
never got pulled over
On
the way maybe
Because
I was the driver
Friday
night two men
Walk
down Avenue K-4
To
30th St. W a residential area
With
a Hellenic Center
On
the corner a great place
To
celebrate your day
They
get stopped by gang
Unit
plain clothes
Words
are exchanged
One
of them whips
Out
an assault
Pistol
from his jacket
That
was all it took to start
A
firing squad of detectives
His
buddy ran away
In
the hubbub
Deputies
pick up the gun
From
the lying body
Establish
a perimeter
To
catch a friend
Scared
for his life
I
made a phone call to Marvin
To
give him the news
Heard
him say he’s staying
Inside tonight
52 > Rectangular Man
Opens
his almond eyes
Waking
to strips of light from blinds
Reaches
over to the bedside table
To
grope for his glasses
Shaped
like SUV’s
Sees
an office building outside the window
Gets
up from his bed
Looks
around at four corners
Bookcases,
tables, chairs, printer
Heads
to the bathroom
Aims
into the oval
Moseys
on to the kitchen
To
shake a cereal box
Pour
milk from a carton
Scoops
irregular flakes with a spoon
Then
he grabs the charged cellphone
Switches
on the living room television
Plops
onto the long sofa to eat
Later
brushes his teeth with a stick
Drinks
from a cup
Spits
into the sink
Marches
to the front door
Swings
it out to walk the walkway
Down
steps
To
the carport
Opens
driver door
Descends
into seat
Rolls
along driveway to the gate
Turns
onto the street
Glances
at sidewalk trees
Pulls
into parking lot
Slowly
searches for a space
Parks
between white lines
53 > Little Boy at the Beach
He looks like he's sleeping
Wet hair seemingly combed back
Soaked red tee shirt and blue shorts
Shoes still on
He must have been tired
Face down on the sand
Gentle waves pushed him
To the Turkish shore
The only tell-tale sign
Is the swelling of his ear
Whispering sweet dreams
Of a better world for everyone
54 >
Nine birds
sit equidistant
on the arm
of a signal
Until one
flies off
to land
on a nearby facade
The remaining
eight flutter wings
individually
Reposition themselves
so they are again
spaced
in this afternoon
Change to green
cars juxtaposition
to get ahead
before yellow turns
55 > Facebook Newsfeed Sonnets
1
Will your
dining table kill you?
Will you live to see the sea again?
Exist to sniff a flower in a bed?
Meet up with some handsome beautiful,
Maybe you'll want to share inspiration,
Words like a lighthouse inside you.
Whatever you do, don't ductape your mind.
Run through minutes, hours, days,
Get yourself space to reach outward,
Play the bongos of being alive.
Someone may sidle next to you,
Form a group of like-minded professors.
Then smirk your way to local stardom
Or just enjoy the colors of your pens.
2
Is your
mind a flower in the desert?
Does your imagination see above the trees?
The colors of music might inspire you,
Remembering friends you took pictures with.
That one day you sat at the shore just looking
And felt the need to tell someone about it.
People may look at you funny.
Some could stay to watch you rap rhapsodically
About the patterns on your brain wall.
The moment you felt like Kong on a skyscraper.
When simply walking on a sidewalk in the heat
Drives you to start preaching to anyone.
Inside you is a lighthouse amid the clouds
Where bright thoughts dominate the darkness.
56 > Human Minds
A world without
the bomb
Now wouldn't that
be something
Maybe then we'd
get rid of the rockets
and missiles too
But it would take
the removal of rifles
and guns
To produce
a fundamental return
Back to swords
and knives
Unless an alien came
to melt it all down
Hell, you know
we'd rise up
Stones and sticks
in our hands
Even sans trees
fists would still
over rule
Taking away bodies
would leave only
worlds behind
For the universe
to merrily corrode
out of existence
57 >
Blue and White
When I see
an alligator
chasing after
some fish
A giant crab
flying over
a tiny
exhaling whale
And a pirate
face looking
down from
on high
I know I love
wispy clouds
turn into images
through words
58 > Dream Horses
Gallop through the rivers of my mind
Make me want to light out of skin
To not spend this day walking with the
troubled many
Who carry briefcases, lunch bags, spare tires
Once I imagined a fish could break clear of a
building
I knew then I only wished to jump off a wall
Leave shoes behind on the precipice
As testament to the gun in my head that
imploded
I emerge a limber being, a phantom of my
former self
Holding an unlit lantern to a future missing
the past
As today’s sky shines around me
And trees frame my unleashed heart
The barbs that surrounded my skull moved me
To run from the hands that held me back
To never again be one of the cattle crossing
The muddy lake of dutified hours
Where I used to wallow
Half-submerged in sidewalks
The cornice of literature
Inside me barely seen
Until I escaped to steal my own life
Finally free to feel the sun rise on my face
Amidst brother arbors
Instead of hanging by facades
Waiting for a trough of money to guide me
I dove like a shark under clouds to muster
play
Jagged rocks became parts of my soul
And equines neighed pleased at my process of
departure
59 > Three Layer Brownie
Via biting wind and
salivic surf, he eats through, purchased from a petite waterfall-haired
cheerful teenage student, a chocolate mesa, to create a crumbly cliff revealing
baked layering of a heated past. The recently refrigerated saran-wrapped
surface of crusty dark brown plated mantle, held up by the deeper darker nearly
black oreonic cream-filled muddy subsoil, in turn supported by an array of
larger melted chips like gigantic boulders buried in a blonde cake base,
methodically vanishes. All washed down an over half-century old teaching throat
in waves of bubbly cranberry red water encased in lightweight recyclable
aluminum from the virtually empty great dispensing machine monolith in the busy
teacher’s cafeteria rectangle on a planet blithely rotating finitely to a
finish.
60 > On a Planet Where
A
penguin leaps away from a seal
A wildebeest jumps into a river
A boxer crab belly holds its hundred orange eggs
A white rhinoceros is protected by rifle-toting soldiers
An owl blends into a tree’s bark
A mountain lion nighthunts a wood-decked backyard
A polar bear dives between ice floes
A taloned sparrowhawk attacks a jay
An ocean wave mistaken for a snow-capped mountain
Bare trees like zombies reach up at night to the stars
A goggled boy floats in clear shallow ocean seeking starfish to place in his lipped plastic bowl
An aurora borealis streaks pink over an icy blue lagoon
A bobtail squid has eight curling symmetrical arms lined with nodules
A hook-horned Alpine ibex stares down from a cliff ledge
Seals sleep on an iceberg in Antarctica
Some humans internet search for nature photos to post on their Facebook feeds
61 > Transient
I’ve
walked on the surface for so many years
Surrounded
by buildings, streets and some trees.
I
feel the wind on my face and arms, and wonder
What
it would be like to shoot far above the land,
Cross
oceans to different continents, swirl through
Hair,
touch the skin of the temporary ones, move on.
Better
to be a cloud, float over the checkerboard
Fall
into it, get inside earth, then, thanks to the sun,
Evaporate
up again, unless I am retained in a bush,
Flower
because of light, age, darken, wrinkle, die.
If
I could only turn into a rock, it’s the closest thing
To
immortality, absorb the warmth of day, coolness
Of
night, watch the passing of more temporal beings,
Until
the eventual utter destruction of this planet.
Or,
likely, earlier, broken by earthquake, or humans
Who
love, love to build structures, and pathways.
62 > Walk a Mile in Black Nike's
They were a birthday gift from my love.
The first pair of this brand I've ever possessed.
They're light and springy.
Fun to walk in.
I'm almost bouncing every day.
But my feet are cold when it's chilly outside.
No kicks ever did that before.
I can feel a breeze through them.
I bound to the car feeling younger.
Step on the pedals.
Sense the give.
Reminds me of you know who
as I remember to think about it.
I go to school, lunch, back home.
When I am free, I spend time with her.
Take 'em off.
That's even better.
Then I ponder...
who made the shoes.
Knowing the answer all along.
63 > My Seventies
I
look at the orderly collage of record
Album
sleeves on my home office wall
I
realize I’ve subconsciously posted the many
Facets
of my own personality confirmed by music:
Paul
McCartney and his Wings in Africa because
This
white boy also effortlessly dug black rhythms
George
Harrison had Krishna on a four horse chariot,
I
too felt sadness at the follies of the material world
Elton
John peered out of his pink tinted glasses, and I
Introspectively
gaze at society thru manufactured lenses
ELO,
seven scraggily-haired men in t-shirts and jeans, you
Could
have put me in the picture as number eight
And
ELO jolted classical music with rock, like everyone
Else
I eventually discovered what came before matters
Jon
Anderson, my favorite mystic, with one foot in ancient
Times
while drawing inspiration from childhood noir films
The
Runaways, teenage girls in black with long straight
Hair
gave this teen a whore moan shot in the pants
So
did Linda Ronstadt’s big dark ojos and sexy bare
Shoulder
imprint a vision of a future wife in my genes
I
was another Bob Welch, cupping my hands to form
Googly
finger specs for the girl with Ebony Eyes
Tried
to be tough like Bob Seger sporting Fu Manchu
Mustache
and leather jacket under the full moon
Faded
a la Steely Dan slipping shades and splitting
In
two over the dichotomies of being alive
Carly
Simon, tall and slim in her loose blouse
And
black slacks made me want to become
James
Taylor, the perfect husband, singing
His
love for her, embodying all man kind
John
Lennon was my real role model, pissed
And
creatively loving his partner as an other half
Shortly
after that though, the Ramones delivered
A
young man’s life in the cities angsty laughs
Su
Tissue of Suburban Lawns became the arty
Hipster
woman I longed to meet in college
But
exotic Hiroshima’s mellow jazz taught me
To
chill out around the ladies and smile
And
jazzman Lenny White and Twennynine
Had
me grooving again to Peanut Butter soul
So,
guess I’m the above, with a helping of Genesis,
Using
elemental colors to present pure feeling
64 > Alhambra
Raccoon
Three in the morning
Outside my window
Sitting in the well lit
Medical office parking lot
On the aisle surrounded
By painted spaces
Something too big to be
A cat grooming her fur
Very thoroughly licking
Glancing over calmly
At no imminent threat
Sauntering on to the east
Did she come from
The nearby rainflow channel?
What is this animal
Walking to find: dumpsters,
Trash bins, sidewalk
And lawn throwaways?
Maybe an abandoned pet?
Is her family closeby,
Or is this a solo traveler,
Long lost from mountains?
Well, it’s one healthy body
With a beautiful black mask
Must enjoy the bounty
Of city life at night
Padding on asphalt
Avoiding white lines
How many more days
Will this creature forage?
Hopefully meets no car
Don’t want to see
Roadkill on my way
To work away my hours
On this planet of the living
And the dead disposed
65 >
Asphalt Nature
1
Thought I saw a jellyfish
floating over the street,
but it's only a plastic bag.
A big black caterpillar
resting near the gutter
--merely a Monster can.
Was that a walrus just now
lying on the sidewalk grass?
No, an old cardboard box.
2
A brown leaf hops
across an intersection
escorted by the wind.
3
I remember when I flipped
my bicycle like a seahorse.
The road rash bright
as any coral.
66 > Morning Play
Looks like one cloud
is running through another
with a broken sword
Other clouds stretch
like dogs starting to run
Ears taken by the breeze
And that clump could be
the coast of England
and below France
A couple wisps appear
to be caught by
electrical wires
Palm trees salute
their independence
tethered to the ground
Apartment building watches
passionately with reflective
windowed eyes
67 >
Anthropomorph
To unfolded laptop
screen god
head locks in
for obviously
well-made slot
engineered to fit
perfectly the hole
inside his brain
He's got a face
of purposeful expression
wide-eyed
small-mouthed
armless
legless
penis depicted
like a duck's
And one long
long tail
which ends
in a half-sized
version of himself
eyes lidded shut
Ready to be plugged
into the portable
cellphone's female
open mouth
slit with a spotted
tongue line
Fashionable mole
microphone just left
a short distance on
faux aluminum skin
68 > after the fall
amazing
how difficult it is
to
chase and spear cheese
cubes
in a packaged salad
when
all you have is a plastic
fork
held by the left hand
dancing
around a clear bowl
imagine
spending the rest
of
your life this way like
a
wounded Iraq war veteran
or
refugee Syrian child,
who
would be lucky to have
a
salad to eat, more likely
boiled
bulgur again and again
until
settling in another country
where
signs are not familiar
this too shall
pass,
they tattoo
in
Arabic on each other’s arms,
how
beautiful the characters are
on
any arm, think I’ll borrow
the
phrase, ink it on my forearm,
pray
for no more violence, only
the
peace of growing old
someday,
finding it hard to
make
a fist anymore, rather
hold
beloved shaking fingers
to
calm them over the passage
of,
I hope, decades together
69 > spirits of
solitude
driving
in a dark rectangle
with
concave glasses off
watching
tonight’s street
lights
like snowflakes
and
the reflected cosmic eye
just
another cataract
until
I get home
switch
on felt lamps
I
can play now
with
my own little cosmos
in
the finite living room
full
of fuzzy books
and
black monoliths
what
time is it
doesn’t
matter in my universe
when
god’s tired
he
simply lies down
on
a field of cotton
prays
he wakes up
the
next day the clock stirs
his
pupils will seek sense again
70 > Extraterrestrial Report
This planet is
populated
with the usual
oceans
mountains
trees
But what are
these
vessels of
concrete
The wheeled
citizens
roll on
and stop
Their motors
step out
of their bellies
Then rest
inside giants
that don't move
The only
creatures
like us
seem to be
scratched onto
rocks
shown on screens
or imitated through toys
So let the
guide
book read
Harmless
Wait I think
I see something
on the moon
71 > Moon Poetry
Luna, a grand circle with so many
circles of different sizes on the surface
Deimos, triangular potato complete with some scattered eyes
Phobos, lumpy cratered rock been nicked big time a few times
Ganymede, giant crystal sphere, mostly cloudy, with what looks like a night sky inside
Callisto, like looking at the Earth at night, lights everywhere, but no water
Io, a huge round pizza, salivate at all that bubbling cheese
Europa, a hazy blue ball laden with crowded crimson scratching, like a child drew on it
Titan, appears a heavily clouded blue and green, yin and yang, north and south
Rhea, the whitest moon, is it made of chalk, can I draw with it
Iapetus, could one possibly fit more craters on a single circular object, and that seam in the middle, a death star
Dione, one of the prettiest, with long pale streaks like prehistoric cave art
Tethys, a moon's moon, textbook example of a crater-filled bright world
Enceladus, so many grooves all over, did a clay potter craft it
Mimas, the real inspiration for the death star, with that one enormous crater near the equator
Titania, much like our moon, with even better streaked light spots seemingly evenly spaced
Oberon, sporting some extensive rays, is the carbon copy of our lunar wonder
Umbriel, blue, dominantly striated blues, with a smooth baby blue behind
Ariel, is there a message etched on its gray surface, the solar system logo
Miranda, seems to be an ice cream world, a snowy scoop roughly packed, ready for eating, or throwing
Triton, like a marble, sporting a northern azure haze swirling above a muddy mass
Charon, mini-moon, a mere 1,000 odd kilometers across, got a red smudge for a north pole
And dozens more little balls and potatoes of shapes larger and smaller than Los Angeles
72 >
Thirteen Ways of Looking at Poppies
Poppies! Poppies! Poppies! Poppies!
Blown around by the breeze
Like citizens by politics
If Moses had hiked this hill
He would have said the clusters of
Orange flames were beautiful signs of God
Walk as a tee-shirted giant
In the land of the poppies
Swaying by the passing wind
Open petals take in
The sunny flow of air
Fed the feeling of being alive
Shadows pass over the poppies
Shoes temporarily knock flat the poppies
The poppies bounce back up lifted by the
following
A field of orange and yellow and purple
Brings delightful color to the brown
hills
The cloudless blue sky
Kneeling amongst the poppies
Get close to pure beauty
Fitting right in
Spotted desert brush
Enhanced by orange and yellow and purple
clumps
Such harmony in the variety of colors
The sign says Poppy Festival
April 22nd-23rd but
It's already here
Bearded and unbearded men stroll
Surrounded by poppies
Smiles all around
Buds hang together
Like a group of poppies
Grow to love the company
Outside with the wind dancers
Sashaying to the music of the breezes
Twenty four hours every day
Put anything next to a poppy
And it's livened up
A bouquet of flowers and object
