20210531.0430

We remember
Because we are told we must
Because we are told the many we remember
Because we are told we must
Gave all they had for freedom's cause
And gladly
So that we can be free
To be told we must remember
And do it freely
And to enjoy the discounts that
Job creators
Use to mark the day today
Because we are told we must remember
And the sacrifice of
A few dollars on a single sale
Is surely sufficient recollection
Enough commemoration
And wouldn't they be glad
Those whom we remember
Because we are told that we must
To be remembered thus?

20210530.0430

The words are changing, as they ever do
As the world is changing, though many rue
That matters are not all as they have been
And they no longer without struggle win

20210529.0430

It has been long since
The languid humid days
Southwestern Louisiana offers
Have been mine
And the dinners that follow
Have graced my plate
But I still often find
The taste of frog in my mouth
Though because it passes the wrong way
And something slimy hops away

20210528.0430

Carrying their mortarboards
No trowels in hand
Still are they set to build further
To raise the walls and towers
Expand their reach
And drive back with the lamps they bear
The darkness that still too much encroaches
Leaping four-point bucks' emblems leading

20210527.0430

She begs me to be there
Says she loves me
Wants me to look
I think to be proud
But
And there is a but
A big one
Stretching any pants to bursting
And in need of Charmin

20210526.0430

Again she shows me
What she ought not
Her promises to me
Already forgot
Wrapped up in a moment
Already long gone
And not where she should be
Not where she belongs

20210525.0430

Despite bending my back
To one toil all day
When the workday is done
And others will play
I repeat that task
And I know what they say
But I do as I'm called
And at least it'll pay

20210524.0430

I look upon them in awe
I could never have been so young
And I am glad they have the space in which to be so
For now
Because the range is getting fenced in
Another post driven and wire stretched to it
Every day
And there might be no gate built in

20210523.0430

A few fleeting moments fully spent
Lines leaping out, living things
Tended and tender and tripping about
Motes, moments only, meaning the world
Making it up in their multitudes

20210522.0430

She moves so fluidly on her own
But when she is in the ranks
One of many flowers in the field
She does not bend and wave in the wind
But stands more stiffly than a sapling
Though hers are never oaken limbs

20210521.0430

Once again
I watch her
Dancing in delight
Distracted by herself
And I wonder what it is she has wanted me to see
The many times she has asked me into the room
To sit and look upon her
Distracted by herself
Dancing in delight

20210520.0430

The tape is not rewound
But played both sides
And started the one again
As has happened before
But the day will come when
The tape will suffer
And a pencil will not be enough to fix it

20210519.0430

There is a golden flower
Rising above the newer blooms in many colors
Firm and full of stem
And I am sure its nectar is sweet
Though I shall never taste it

20210518.0430

She is putting away the blue blanket
Beautifully woven and picked out
The one that I love to see shaken out and spread
Each spring
But the red and yellow one that she lays out now
Even if it's thicker in the growing heat
Is pretty too
And I wonder if I can lay out on it

20210517.0430

The song repeats an assassination order
Specifies the weapon destined to fail
Because kindness itself does not make a wound
Though it may push a person to do so

20210516.0430

I would not compare her to a rose
That flower whose blossoming I watch closest
Hers is a different bloom altogether
But it still somehow grows new thorns
Sharp and biting deeply

20210515.0430

She begged today to have me sit and watch
And I know she wants me to be proud of her
But every time I do, it seems,
It distracts, and I am not sure how to be proud
When she does what she should not do
And knows it

20210514.0430

I may be in line to get apples again
A traditional offering I have to refuse
Because there is another adage that applies
And my doctorate is ever the older

20210513.0430

Their eyes wander and I wonder
That anything ever gets done
But it somehow does
The petals twirling in the breeze

20210512.0430

The Stupid God yet prowls about
And works on those who know no doubt
But should not so certain be
Doubt is not something one should flee
But face instead and thus resolve
No rigid shout that problem solves
But steady study and concern
Makes the lamp of wisdom burn
And though the price of fuel is high
As Stupid God draws yet more nigh
The cost of darkness far exceeds
The price of meeting wisdom's needs

20210511.0430

The seat of knowledge does not admit of leaning back
Even when it is not a hard and backless bench
But it is better to have a bit of cushion
Shielding where many think

20210510.0430

Once again the time has come

And the old hitchhiking bum

Has wandered through with his same speech

That it's certain will soon reach

Whom he celebrates today

And I know I'll with him say

Happy birthday to my mom;

We look for another one!

20210509.0430

Not all mothers deserve praise
On this or any other days
But those I know have done quite well
And my regard for them I tell
Them often 'cross the year
And here, again; I hope they hear

20210508.0430

Sturgeon notes nine-tenths of all
Perhaps optimistically
The questions for the remaining part:
All at once or spread around?
At beginning or at end?
And, for the whole:
What divisions to be made?
But recall what fertilizes
And think perhaps the nine make the tenth
Better

20210507.0430

Whom my own master studied
Looked long into his mirror and
Practiced looking like others
Caught up less by cares
And we seem to follow that lesson
Both more and less than he
Who left pawned his doubts
And may not have redeemed them

20210506.0430

Do not stalk the fawns of David's son
Prefer instead the full-grown deer
Not least because they are more abundant
Let the quarry grow before the hunt
There is more skill therein

20210505.0430

Let me pen an ode for you
Trace the stylus that I have across the page
Leaving its liquid long behind
On that smooth weave that sits sometimes in drawers
And for which I often gladly reach
Delighting in its smell no less than in
The feel of it under my fingers
Show to you the love I make for you
In as many lines as you can read
And I can write before I can no longer grip
My pen

20210504.0430

Many heed the Stupid God's command
And seek to claim for it again the land
Where others, thinking, find they must yet stand
And had had hope that they had slipped the yoke
That, placed upon them, soon did make them choke
As some do celebrate as they provoke
The rising voice and, soon, the rising hand
That seems to be what these events demand
As a response that they will understand
Who think the still-done struggle is a joke
And think themselves but jesters to evoke
Old foolish hate: an egg, and they, the yolk.
Perhaps it is the pan now growing hot
That shows itself as their deservéd lot.

20210503.0430

Zephyrus sweeps cobwebs away
And they flee from some places but
Push into others and
What they have bound up
Disgorge
And we
Baby birds waiting for a meal from their mothers

20210502.0430

The fields are in bloom again
The flowers dancing in the wind
Blowing through the limestone hills
But other slopes are calling
Looking over colored waters
Instead of at a virgin flow
Will the shoot transplanted there from here
Continue to prosper?

20210501.0430

If I often backward look
It is because I know
I am not moving forward
And so run no risk of stumbling