20170731.0430

For in that town lived an old man
Against whom the Scald could not plan.
He had there retired,
But he had conspired
To provide a defensive plan.

20170730.0430

Until the Scald came to a town
That before never had known renown,
But in the days after,
It was said with laughter,
The townfolk brought Scald's swelling down.

20170729.0430

The Scald burned its way 'cross the land,
And some thought against them to stand,
But every and all
Who tried would soon fall
And perish, or under command.

20170728.0430

The Scald was as one might expect;
Where they went, they left the place wrecked,
Homes all in disarray,
Struck by an ill melee,
And their violence did long go unchecked.

20170727.0430

Now, this group of foul people was called
By a name that left hearers appalled.
The word's impolite,
And so to spare the sight
Of the label, I'll call them the Scald.

20170726.0430

To begin: There was once a fair land
That was long ill beset by a band,
Not of players all poor
Who could not read a score,
But composed of the kind called brigand.

20170725.0430

I know limericks oft get used
In a way that makes some feel abused.
They often show sex
In a way that some vex,
But I think my use can be excused.

20170724.0430

I think that I should try my hand
At a project I know few will stand:
A cycle of verse
That events rehearse
Of importance throughout some strange land.

20170723.0753

My writerly ambition grows,
To what extent, nobody knows,
But there's a thing that I propose
To do, and before too long.

That I can do it, I'm not sure,
But I will try to doubt abjure,
My timidity to cure
With this little page-bound song.

20170722.0925

I slept in this morning
Woke late
Showered
Dressed
Got breakfast tacos
For me
And for them
And we ate them together
And it was good.

I just needed to tell somebody that.

20170721.0457

I should find something to say
Other than to rhyme of pay
As I am wont to on this day--
But I've got nothing.
The money that I've earned will flee
As I know I'll shortly see,
So, again, I say of me,
I ain't got nothing.

20170720.0436

I have in my head songs from two decades or so ago.
I do not know why; I didn't really listen to many of them then.
I was not swimming in the main stream then,
But rather paddling along ineptly in a back-flowing eddy.
I think I still may be doing so, although the current differs.
I have never been a strong swimmer.

20170719.0436

Each ball flies up, hovers a bit,
Then falls back down. I make to catch it
And toss it again or set it aside
Gently on a shelf, in a box just beside
My feet. I am standing in place just for now.
I'll need to move soon--soon's I figure how
To do it and keep aloft the balls I throw
And catch again. It's all I know.

20170718.0436

I should work harder to be thankful.
I should not have to work at it;
I should simply be so,
For I am given much.
For some of it,
I am grateful,
But not all of it is to my liking,
Not all as I would prefer.
It never will be, of course.
It cannot.
But I should still be tankful.
It could be much worse.

20170717.0445

In bringing things
Out of boxes
Out of wrapping
Out from where they have been hidden away
For years
The past emerges
As if from mist and cloud
And things once known
But forgotten
Return again to the waking world
Reminding us what we have been
And what we now are
And I
At least
Consider the exchange

20170716.0751

Where do they go, those things that we value?
We look around for them, find them nowhere,
Go out to gather them, grasp them in vain,
Brush ourselves by them, bend to take them,
Maybe a moment might we hold them
But they pass away, and we seek again.
No thing endures. Never content,
To gather up goods we go out again,
And other look on at our departure,
Asking where we go, we whom they value.

20170715.0933

Something I have known would come has come
As I sought to
And she sought to
Another she did so
But in a different way
And neither the first she nor I did

20170714.0439

It seems to be payday again,
That to which my work's an end.
I may from penury defend
Myself a little longer.
Some food I soon can go to buy,
And tools, perhaps, with which to ply
My skills--if I have time to try
To make them a bit stronger.
But before then, I'll work again,
For my tasks do never end,
Nor do body's needs off tend
To lessen as life's longer.

20170712.0439

I looked in on my daughter as she lay
Asleep in bed, the sheets in disarray,
And she, lying sideways, all exposed,
As if a doll some collector posed
To show a sudden stop amid some time
Whose focal point denies all acts of rhyme--
Except she breathed n slow, deep rhythm. I,
Too, breathed deeply in content and drew not high
For fear of stirring her to wakefulness
And disturbing her growing progress--
And since I look for her to grow up strong
And brave and wise and true, and those take long
To burgeon in a person now quite small,
I let her be and walked back down the hall.

20170712.0428

Thoughts of what I might well do
Bubble up within me,
Rising to the surface of my mind
And popping into the open air.
What of them remains?
Only the occasional chunk of stuff,
Stirred from depths by currents unseen
Remains to be found
And played with
By the rare child who comes traipsing along
And pokes it with a stick.

20170711.0448

One of the cats is standing,
Staring,
A breathing canopic jar filled with
Something
And I have to wonder
Who provided the pulsing fleshy bits
Housed inside it.

20170710.0447

Today, I'll be at work long,
Not because there's something wrong,
But I hope still to be strong
Because I'll surely need it.
I have to think I've seen a sign
That folly is this task of mine,
But, for now, I'm feeling fine--
It's not like I would heed it.

20170709.1454

The summer sun drives many things,
Including folks inside,
For they know what the sunlight brings,
And they would from it hide.
I know I stand among them. I
Have known the sunlight's kiss
Across my flesh, under the sky;
I do not it miss.
Unlike many, I will act
When I have sunlight fled,
An offering to seal the pact
I have with daylight made.

20170708.0453

I want to write more, but discipline lack,
So I often find that I wander off track
When I start to write, and to find my way back
Is a challenge that too often defeats me.
I scrape out some verse in the hush before dawn,
But the scrapings are thin, and I dare not spend long
Getting together lines of verse or song,
For, each day, a list of tasks greets me.
I know it is thus for most of the world.
Living's demands keep those banners furled
With which folks would show their hearts' and minds' pearls--
And why we endure it beats me.

20170707.0453

Payday has come again,
But so has bill-pay day.
Their long dance has no end,
And I am in their way.

20170706.0447

It feels like just another day,
And I know what comes my way,
For I go to earn my pay
By helping others get theirs.
The tasks arranged before me now
Are simply done, and I'll somehow
Get them done and so allow
Others rewards for theirs.
The work that's mine is good to do,
Although it never is quite through,
Which, for me, is something new.
Such work is mine and theirs.

20170705.0444

Now that folks have had a blast,
The celebration in the past,
The fireworks' strange spells all cast,
It's time to get to work.
Work e'er endures, as e'er it must.
It is a fact in which to trust,
Save for the thin social crust.
Now I'll get back to work.

20170704.1519

I suppose that I am free
To be what I am told to be,
Fulfill a vision others see,
So I should not complain.
I know others fare far worse,
Living under heavy curse
While I sit and peck out verse
With often-writ refrain.
Still, I hope to better see
And, better yet, to better be,
To better be the thing called free
And freedom to explain.

20170703.0450

I'm trying to get back to normal,
Finding myself strangely formal,
Not polite, but bound to do
Some certain things, to carry through
A pattern nearly every day.
Now, I am back on my way
To doing so, and so I go
Back to what I used to know.

20170702.0744

Again, we will be on our way
Back to where we'd like to stay,
And we're like to find delay
Because some roads are poor.
The drive will go on long, I know,
For many miles, we must go,
And some of them will go too slow,
And yet, we'll travel more.

20170701.0726

Today, my wife has lived another year.
Today, we gather for one who has not.
I know not to weep, or else to cheer,
Or perhaps both, given what we've got.