20211231.0430

Here it is, at last: the end.

More than a decade after I started this webspace, I feel it's done what it needed to do for me--and, I hope, for at least a few who have read what I have written here and have followed along with the changes that have taken place. I've gone from occasional notes to more detailed commentaries to bits of poetry that are likely not even as good as I fancy--and that's not a high bar that I fail to clear it. It's been a decent enough thing for me, and I appreciate having had the opportunity--but it's time to shift over, to let it end, to focus my attentions more narrowly so that I can do better work and not be spread around quite so much as I have been.

Thank you, dear readers, for sticking with me. If it's the case that you've liked what I've shown you here, I hope you'll come over to ElliottRWI.com, where I will continue to write. Admittedly, I think I've got a somewhat different voice there than I've had here, but I hope it's a better one.

And whether you do follow me or not, I hope the next year's better for you than this one!

20211230.0430

A hopeful forward look there may
Yet be for some who greet this day
But many more have gone away
Than at this time last year
I do not look with happy eyes
For the coming year's surprise
And I will offer no surmise
For the response I fear
I know what I intend to do
I know what tasks I should see through
I know that I might well still rue
What may well happen here
There is no choice save to advance
Though it remains an awful chance
For those whose ragged feet must dance
Carry them to the clear

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211229.0430

The cadence repeats itself
Neptunian fading in Holst's then-new way
But I will not echo the mystic in this
A firm cut-off coming rather than
A dwindling away

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211228.0430

Both saddle and yoke are cast aside
The bit still irritates
And the grass gets caught on it all too easily
Tantalizing green closeness inaccessible

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211227.0430

Images flicker over her face
Glazing her eyes
And I chafe at the sight for a moment
Before my own vision hazes
Moth to the lamp
Of projected pixels

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211226.0430

I have never studied the sweet science
Never been in trunks in the ring
Ringing others' bells and hearing my own rung
As another marks the minutes out
And I suppose I am the weaker for it
Less a man than I ought to be
That it was hoped I would be
For that and other reasons

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211225.0430

The armistice is signed for another season
But the battle will be said to start again
And always by those who want to think themselves attacked
Hoping that their entrenchment may find some justification
Although the few who rise against it are no army
Scattered ragtag band of partisans in the woods
Cut off from support except what they extort and steal
Although the same could be said for the fortified

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211224.0430

Still she seeks out the delight
Promised by the coming night
That is marked by twinkling light
Set on trees and burning bright
And I find I cannot decry
What I know to be a lie
When I look and see her smile;
Let it last a little while

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211223.0430

Boreas may well still bluster
And I may struggle to muster
Strength to brace against the blast
As I have done in the past
But the day is brighter now
Than yesterday, and I, somehow,
Will force my way back through again
Not willing that this be the end

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211222.0430

The fires dwindle
The fuel that had fed them running low
And other sources of warmth and life beckon
Calling for them to huddle around
Who had before focused on the limber red tongues
Not whispering but not speaking loudly
Saying secrets yet long known

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211221.0430

Shall Boreas be the herald of this day
Blowing boldly bitter blasts to say
White-robed Jack appears at last
Taking up his time-share
He is less seen now than many times before
And he seems to know his lease is coming up
Not to be renewed by those who seem to hold the note
Because last time he came this way he left quite a mess
The cleanup from it long and still not fully done
But for now his name is on the paperwork
And he holds the keys

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211220.0430

Again, I sit with sun upon my face,
Although I am in a far different place
Than that in which I once did often pace
And far removed from where I used to be
That place from which I once did seek to flee
And which has left its deep mark upon me
A deeper mark than ink upon my skin
As I well know who, whene'er I begin
To take up pen, will find myself again
Bemarked. Yet that with ease will wash away
As I have found with nearly everey day
But that so much is true I cannot say
Of home now lost to all but visits brief
That give no ease and offer no relief

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211219.0430

The dog curls up on her bed
Stays there, nose to tail amid her blankets
That are still rucked up from where she left them
In haste at my bidding
So that she could go away
And I envy the hound
Not least because she cannot speak

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211218.0430

The baking began badly
Misshapen and not fully flavored
But has since risen to a better texture
Still
The cake left too long in the oven
Burns that no one loves it
And slices from even the best baking
Crumble

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211217.0430

Their chorus remains
Who had thought themselves sons of
The one-eyed one who drank from the well
Cacophony
Drowning out the sweeter songs
That are heard more gladly
Because they cannot stand not to be on the stage
Applauded
Even as they complain about
The centering of others

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211216.0430

The yellow worms reached their destination
Disgorged themselves on what they found there
Doing so with great fanfare and noise before
Swallowing back up again what had been let out
A cycle often repeated
But not extended so far each time

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211215.0430

Has it been so many years
You have been out in the world
Taken screaming from where I was born?
They seem to have been good to you
I will hope they will continue to

Happy birthday, brother!

20211214.0430

Wending my way out into the world
Faring far away from the ivory tower
Taking a trip from tower to field
Glorious greenness that gathered me in
Made from manure and muck spread thickly
Picked a new path that peril is on
Halting and hesitating but having no choice
Save to stride forward, strength on it gaining
I hope it will be enough

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211213.0430

The meal has run through course after course
Making itself an athlete over time and
Attaining new perfections not foreseen
And still you think your palate the arbiter of taste
Who are content with your overdone beef and
Too-bleached bread

Don't forget: I'll be transferring fully over to Elliott RWI after the end of the year! Please follow me there!

20211212.0430

The ceramic vessel still awaits
What may be poured out from a tap after
The container behind it has been fully charged
With drink of strength or less of it
And what it receives will pour away
Finding its way through piping to pool
Making others deal with it in turn

20211211.0430

The sun shines warm as winter approaches
Grass regreening under the glare
Streams slipping in and suggesting
Whispering in the ear unheard or unheeded
By one slumping in the seat
Melting while others freeze

20211210.0430

Never taking up the mallet to
Beat upon the heads of those
Who fall out of tune with the
Progressive melodies, I
Cannot complain so much at
Discordant cacophony that
Drowns out harmonies

20211209.0430

There ever seems more yet to do
And little time to see it through
Yet failing it will many rue
Though they abstain to staff the crew
That needs be there to do it
So I press on against the need
And call out warnings few will heed
Rejecting them as but a screed
And soon I will say "Screw it."

20211208.0430

She goes today to try her hand
At some new task, and she will stand
For judgment in another land
Where blue topaz abounds
She goes with hope, she goes with skill
She goes away, and I will still
Sing her praises, come what will
Where blue topaz abounds

20211207.0430

Plunging in I
Find myself sucking at
What others dispose of
Trying to dislodge it so that
More can flush away

20211206.0430

The little dinghy drifts aimlessly on the waves
The foghorn sounds again and again and
For a time
The dinghy moves under power
Going at a decent clip
But not for long
And it drifts again

20211205.0430

Remember, remember
The fifth of December
But I cannot bring to my mind why
I know no reason
This day, in this season
Should merit some strange battle-cry

20211204.0430

Daily striving to harvest
Just one useful thing from the 
Irregular rows planted and tended
Furrows graven into the field
Watered once and let to sprout
Rarely growing green

20211203.0430

Days dawn later and die earlier
Lights come on sooner and linger longer

The brown of grass and bough and bush
A different dun than summer's due

Yet green still grows upon the ground
Promise and proposal of plenty

20211202.0430

A pair of chickens scratching in the dirt

Pecking away at the seeds they see

Eggs to come whether the rooster visits or not

Either way will make a meal

20211201.0430

Those few who read this consistently--and I thank you--will know that I've considered before the idea that I should leave off this webspace in favor of other projects. This year, I'm doing it; I'll populate this month with material, and in 2022, I'll let it stand without further amendment. I'm not looking at deleting the blog, though that might happen, but given some shifts that have recently occurred for me, I need to streamline and consolidate my work.
I'm not leaving off writing. Indeed, I'll still be maintaining the blog for the Tales after Tolkien Society as well as continuing to work (and advertise, let's be honest) on ElliottRWI.com. And I'm doing a fair bit of freelance writing, as well. Some of it even pays decently. But with all of that, it's getting to be just a bit more than I can comfortably handle to address this, too, and this blog has served its purpose for me. I've used it to refine my online writing voice (an ongoing process, I know) and to demonstrate to myself that I can keep a thing going. It's just time to have something else going, instead.
I hope you'll join me, or continue to do so, at the TaT and ElliottRWI blogs noted above. I've appreciated having you.

20211130.0430

A smaller flock
Less diverse plumage
A quieter murmuration
Yet still the birds do flit and swirl and dance lightly
Still a source of smiling

20211129.0430

Again
The metaphor of fruit arises
Fertile product of a union that may well grow abundantly if it is not eaten up
Implying good soil and better tending
But the rows tilled are all too ragged
And neglected
Hoed once and not watered again
Some farmer

20211128.0430

Shallow roots struggle to find purchase in the stony soil
A newer shoot more suited to the scant dirt grows in its shade
Though it still suffers the shock of being stripped from the banks
Of a cypress-lined stream where bass are born
Being watered now by a flint-flavored flow
Whether it will toughen up the root and stock is yet to be seen

20211127.0430

I once again sit and stare at the screen
Thinking how to capture what I mean
In pixelated words upon the page
A task that grows no easier with age
And sitting, staring, makes me feel the years
I've not much lived, wrapped up in my fears
Of what might go wrong, what rules I might well break
Instead of what I gain if I might take
A chance

20211126.0430

Swollen with the
Deeds of the night before
Staggering on to the next ones
For though the day was a happy one
Still there is more work to do
And less time to do it than should be

20211125.0430

For the day
For the days that have passed
     And that they are passed
For those who are present
     And those who should not be and aren't
For those who have been
     And should have been
For the roof above
For the food within
For the clothes on backs
For the chance to work to make things right
For those who do that work
For those who support them
For other things yet...

20211124.0430

Full many tools the Stupid God does wield,
Has many agents working in the field,
Such that it seems that fate is long since sealed,
As those who wrongly act are proclaimed right
And held aloft as heroes in the sight
Of those who think themselves immune from plight,
Emboldening those who would repeat the deed
Despite the cries of good they do not heed,
Think that they will never have the need
For things that they in joy have overthrown,
Things whose benefits are little known
To those whose near concerts have ever grown.
Perhaps for they themselves they have it right,
But those who come will shine a brighter light.

20211123.0430

By what measure do we tread
The dances we are all supposed to do
When those who step out of the line
Are not left behind alone but praised
Cheered for how their meant missteps
Knock others from the ballroom?

20211122.0430

She is with me this week
Released from other tasks to celebrate
And she is not yet at the point where I have been
And where I still am
That the work does not stop
Or long pause
But shifts instead to another task
And I seem to feel a spring as I think upon it
Though I should not
But should instead
Appreciate the brightness of her bloom
Oh
It is bright, indeed

202111121.0430

I know
Because I have been told
Again and again and again
Over these many years
That I ought to do some things today
But I will not do them
Have not for long
Being taken up by other tasks
And even if it's not some
Sheep in a ditch
I still have to put my hand thereto
And yank it out from
That moist divot
Where something white, something fluffy
Has fallen

20211120.0430

The lights will pass by in review
Driven on by the labor of many
And I have struggled to see them before
To not frown and rant and decry
The expense in material and time
I will try again today
And maybe I can smile
Amid the sea of smiles in which
I will immerse myself
Once more

20211119.0430

The flower I have tended these years
The seed planted in warm, inviting soil
The first shoot springing up too early
The blooms brighter than could have been expected
And more fragrant
I have again in my greenhouse today
And I will show that bouquet about

20211118.0430

I have not seen the cypress standing here
Beside the banks of a different river than
The one flowing through my youth
A lesser thing that never finds the sea itself
But must be borne along by others
To reach that surging end

20211117.0430

Pen in hand, I
Remain Laertes in supposed prayer
Though I am bound to more than doubled business
And my brother had no wife that I would want

20211116.0430

I am still treading
The laps that have been marked out for me
But I have slipped my leash and
Run at my own speed now
It feels good to stretch my legs

20211115.0430

Sitting as the
Music swells around me and I
Find myself carried along again
Fingers working over keys even though
No saxophone is in my hand this time
And while I do not add to the song
That surrounds me I still
Add a strain
Enriching the chorus as it plays

20211114.0430

There is a seed that needs planting
Even if it's the harvest season now
And I need to tend it
Make it grow
I've tried to do so many times before
But the fruit I've harvested has not often sold
And I've no stomach to eat what I have fertilized
Myself

20211113.0430

Huddled under her blankets
She looks so peaceful and
I wish I had that for myself
Even though I do not move in sleep
Waking where Morpheus finds me each night
I do not wake refreshed, and
I must ensure she wakes,
Refreshed or not

20211112.0430

Picking up things that had been dropped
Against the thought of other weights to carry
Assumes a humble posture
And I have needed to bow my head

20211111.1111

Again and again
I give the refrain
Would that they had been right
But we don't abstain
From working that pain
On ourselves and increasing our plight

20211110.0430

A sixty-second time today
The sun will rise upon him
And our own orbits will remain in place
Held by his gravity
We speed onward even as we fall
Because he has been here to help us along
Even if the paths have sometimes been erratic
Which we have all of us taken

Happy birthday, Pop!

20211109.0430

The Stupid God again has worked its will
And in so doing occasioned more ill
For me, and doubtless found its own cheap thrill
In doing so. So much the less this day
Can be done to its ill effects allay
Than could before it would itself betray
As working once again in the fair land
Where I have lived and thought to make a stand
For spread of knowledge and the mind’s command.
Yet that is not to be, is not desired,
No more than those who thought they had been hired
To reach in, pull out those who had been mired
In ignorance, the Stupid God’s foul touch;
In doing little, I have done too much.

20211108.0430

Pressing on
I step away from what I have known before
The walls behind which I had long hidden
And strike out
Though there are no pitches thrown my way
Yet

20211107.0430

It was nice while it lasted
My sojourn through greener fields
But they are browning with the changing season
And I still must pasture my flock
So I return again to other places
Where I have trod before and
Hope to find some forage thereupon
Or else to buy some of what others have harvested

20211106.0430

I had meant to hammer this out earlier
Other things got in the way
It seems a thing I often say
It seems a thing often true

20211105.0430

My stomach clenches again and
Although I was ill a few days back
I know it's not the sickness that
Churns my belly so

20211104.0430

As it happens, today's my thirty-ninth birthday. It's worth the note, although I've not got much, if anything, planned in the way of celebration. It is, after all, a school night tonight, and since I'm a teacher again, such things matter. Too, I have stuff to do tomorrow evening and after, and there's always work that needs my attention.
But there are some traditions I'm sure will hold. I expect I'll be yodeled at before too terribly long; it's something I look forward to, certainly, strange as it may seem. I also know what I'm getting for dinner tonight, unless something goes terribly sideways. (I acknowledge the possibility, although I hope it will not be the case.) So that much is nice.
Aside from that, though, it's not worth much more than the note that it happens. I know I "should" take more delight in it, but, really, I'm not in a position to do much of anything, and I'm not really desirous of doing much of anything. It might be nice to get a bit of rest, but, again, there's always work that needs my attention. I'd not be much if I didn't apply myself to it.

20211103.0430

All out of order, I
Set myself to my tasks at hand and
Find that they are many again
As is no surprise
It is ever so
You'd think I'd be used to it by now

20211102.0430

Briefly resting
Refreshed and moving forward again
The work is yet to do 

20211101.0430

Lying awake
Her beside me
Sleeping
The dark spangled curtain rising
Stage lights shining pink and blue and gold on
Limestone floors and oaken pillars
And cedar and mesquite
Only a spreading blue carpet could make it better
And such will be laid out again

20211031.0430

As children gather in their joy
And youths as well
I remember a story that
The Good Doctor would tell
And recall that today is
Precisely equal to
Another holiday that
Seems to escape me
As the war about it looms again

20211030.0430

A day remains

I take no pains

To celebrate

Or to berate
For though all glee

Does tend to flee

Away from me

I do not see

Why I should say

To others "nay"

That they find ease

While I cannot

20211029.0430

One last push should take me through
As I have seen what I can do
And I make ready to renew
Myself for work to come

20211028.0430

Scrambling to get slightly ahead and
Doing so on occasion
Taking a breath and
In the moment of indrawn air
Falling behind again
Somehow

20211027.0430

Much as I may want to sleep
I have a schedule to keep
And if I hope good grain to reap
To the days' tasks I must yet leap.

20211026.0430

Again, the test presents itself
Again, the students fear
Again, I have outdone myself
Again, the grades are clear

20211025.0430

A scant two months remain
And some will try to explain
That they must yet sustain
A war, an old refrain
The lie of which is plain
Yet they cling to a pain
Unreal, and still they feign
To feel oppression's stain

20211024.0430

A week remains
I take no pains
To celebrate the day
Though others will
I find I still
Have little heart to play

20211023.0430

Plodding along with heavy legs
Feet more sore with every step
Unable to halt for long or sleep
The distance must be crossed somehow

20211022.0430

The day fast approaches again
When a grading period reaches an end
And the students will sit for a test that they chose
And as to results--who knows?
How many students will puzzle it out
Figure out what the text is about
That confronts them in days, I cannot yet say
But soon enough will; it's soon exam day

20211021.0430

The little thing scampers and scrambles about
Pawing at anything left laying out
Around the house by chance or design
The kitten's the girl's; it's damned well not mine
I don't have to clean where the kitten relieves
Itself or to feed it--at least I believe
It's true for the moment; I don't know how long
It'll be until to me that task will belong
But I'm the girl's father, and I know my role
And I will fulfill it; it's no heavy toll
Though if that fool kitten goes after my feet
Again, then that kitten's got something to meet!

20211020.0430

Strangely quiet in the moonlight
There are no clouds across the stars
And no winds blow
But still I wait for something to come
Uncertain whose hand strokes what

20211019.0430

Already
I am on the run again
Barely caught my breath from the last spring
And another stretches before me
But I have to run the race
I chose
So my sciatica will have to wait
And my arches collapse just that much more

20211018.0430

The dreams are coming again
The voices speaking of their problems
Seeking help as they are bidden and
Complaining of the same
And of the costs for seeking it
I had thought so much was done and gone
But I have too often been wrong

20211017.0847

It would seem to have happened that I have run out of the buffer I'd built up on this blog. I have no excuse for it, really; I've had time to write that I've not spent well. Even now, I sit, trying to write, not knowing what words I should put down and leave where others can find them, and it bothers me.

It bothers me a great deal.

I may be able to get back on track in the next few days. Maybe. I'll try. For now, though, I can only apologize--and, again, try to do better.

20211016.0430

Strike up the band once again
Lead them marching into the field
Roaring and thundering
Waving their banners and blowing their horns
Beating their drums all in time together
Striving each to stand first in the eyes of their peers
And of those looking on
Down from on high at those
Who have followed after them
The cadence unending as new feet move forward
Still do my own long to walk that path
Though never again will I tread it
Nor should

20211015.0430

The weights get stacked higher and higher
And I have grown stronger
Yes
The challenge giving me reason to improve
But
My arms are still all too slim and
My belly still too flabby for
Me to keep pushing as it seems
I have to do

20211014.0430

The saying is
When a door closes, a window opens
But I have already jumped out of that window and
Fallen into the cactus growing beneath it
Getting poked in the ass quite abundantly
And not in the way I enjoy
I am wary of the window for a reason
And I've already bloodied my knuckles on the door

20211013.0430

Bubbling up to help themselves rise
They will poke at things with pencils while
I look on and remember that I
Was told I could never have the chance
I still feel the effects after
More than twenty years
Forty thousand times and more that
Might have been far fewer had I
Filled the bubbles as they will today

20211012.0430

She stood there
Socks rising out from boots on hairy-legged feet
Baggy clothing not well washed or often
Messy hair cleaned not much more and
Spoke of her artistic dreams
She could make them work
Perhaps
And I hope she does
And I told her as much
But
I also told her to have a backup plan
I almost didn't, and
It did not help
Perhaps she'll not repeat the lesson

20211011.0430

The day is not
So much to be celebrated as
Mourned because of what it
Notes beginning
And while I and many
Would not be here without it
Many others would be
Who are not
And never could be
And it's all because of one misguided jackass
Who does not need praise

20211010.0430

Working to make sure that
Things are taken care of and I
Struggle onward despite doing
All too little
It is good that I
Face no harder tasks
Being barely equal to
What faces me now

20211009.0430

Wearing black
Both suit and tie
For cargo carried and never delivered
The other father uncertain
My own promiscuity known
Because I've taken in so many splatters from
So many sources
And if I haven't always enjoyed myself
I was always willing
But it would be nice for my own such splatter
Once in a while
To take another as I've been taken
I ever hope for such
But I continue to wear black

20211008.0430

Timorous and
Quiscaline and
Gelid and
Lugubrious
Words with little use outside
That to which I put them
Small toys I play with in
My own little games
Rules opaque to many
The league we few form does not merit betting
The wagers are already lost

20211007.0430

Well before the morning sunlight, I
Rise and shower and do the other things to
Put the prior day behind me and
Ready myself to face the new
And so much of what is new frightens me
But what has gone before is no source of peace
Afflicting me in other ways than fear as
I go about the business of the day
Each day
Timorously

20211006.0430

The clothes hang loosely anymore
Ragged and threadbare
Moth-eaten from years put away
But I have nothing else to wear
So I must put them on anyway
And go about the business of the day

20211005.0430

Once again
I make it plain
What I retain
From days gone by
And I still try
Not much to sigh
At what I don't

20211004.0430

Again
I get it
I hear what you say
I know what you mean
I see your point
I understand

20211003.0430

Strike up the band and send them forth
The blaring horns and beating drums
High-stepping marchers and twirling flags
And rifles and sabers thrown high
Lock-stepped procession following after
Where I and others have already gone
Looking back every so often and
Seeing ourselves coming again

20211002.0725

So it seems I'm late
On this late date
And I do hate
To be delayed
Apologize
To looking eyes
And so reprise
My verse parade

20211001.0430

There is never a shortage of things that need doing
There is always a shortage of workers to do them
Even when the bodies number enough
The tasks exceed what any one ought to be asked to do
But which they are always bidden do
By those who seldom bestir themselves to do

20210930.0430

He spoke of the standing stones
Foundations upon which he continued to build
As his family had done for generations
Each laborer in lands where
They had been made to labor making
The footing all the firmer
Though there is much yet to do
And I and far away from the stones laid down
By those who bore those who bore me
Blown about again and again by winds that
Sometimes fair
Still have sent me on an uncertain course
A leaf erratic
Or a small seed that still has not found the soil
Into which to grow

20210929.0430

Still amid the clutter of a home
Uprooted and transplanted, I
Struggle to make sense of it all, but
The scattering of things has let me
Struggling to find myself amid the mess and
That means there's not a lot I can do but
Struggle to make sense of it all

20210928.0430

Each time I think the race is run
They show me there's another leg to the relay
And I've got nobody to whom to pass the baton
So I keep hold of that little stick and
Hope someday I'll find someone
To whom I can give it
Maybe with force

20210927.0430

I linger looking at the laurels
Praises from the past once packed away and
Brought again before my bared face to see
What I once did and won in years now gone
Lauds for the late that linger on
And I do not know how to feel

20210926.0430

Forget not that the Stupid God remains
Within the world to give unthinking pains
To those who struggle valiantly and strain
To make the world a better place for all.
That still the Stupid God remains recall,
And work to help them go on, not to fall,
Who press ahead with work done to redeem
The fall to folly that too often seems
To choke out hope. Listen as they scream
Their anger and their anguish at the plight
Of bringing darkness into showing light
And help them; do not hinder them. They fight
To make the world a better place for you;
Do more for them than the least that you can do.

20210925.0430

Ninety days alone remain
And soon will some sound the refrain
At thought of which they often claim
To feel some great oppressive pain
That not all their holidays proclaim
And by not doing show disdain
For words they themselves don't explain
Through the examples of their lives

20210924.0430

The first span finds and end today
And for a time, the students play
While I will toil this next day
And the one that follows
I must see if they've passed the test
I put to them; I may not rest
Until it's done at school's behest
Perhaps it'll be tomorrow

20210923.0430

The Stupid God has ever found a field
Of such sort as a fitting crop will yield
Among those whose potential's not revealed
And sows it with the laziness some praise
While they enjoy the springtime of their days
And youthful voices sullenly upraise
And while things ever have gone on this way
They confront now, not in earlier day
But now, and now is when they will allay
The hopes that generations yet to be
Will be at long last able to be free
From grip of Stupid God, unless it's we
Who work now to redeem the wayward youth
However much they seem content uncouth

20210922.0430

I and all the lands around
Have lost our footing, stable ground
Yet shifting winds can scarce be found
Though darkness more and more surrounds
The balance day is come once more
As it has often come before
The game goes on, but now, the score
Sways as the teams go on tour

20210921.0430

Today
Come quick to see the last performance
On this tour, at least
Of the radiant Aestas
Dancing over limestone hills
Demeter will soon sweep in, and
Braciaca from more northern climes
And if we will miss the one
Is there not delight in the others' attentions?

20210920.0430

Rising in time to see Helios ascend
I rarely take the time do to so because
I follow more after Hephaestus despite
Hearing Muses, but I am no Apollo
Tall and radiant and fair
Prone to wrath and rapine and ruin
For all the praise that is received

20210919.0430

Trying once again this faith thing
Because they seem to benefit from doing so and
I support them in their endeavors
They give enough to me
As I do not for them
And that I struggle to believe is
Another way I fail them

20210918.0430

Gulping down the black brew
Breathing it, almost, its bitterness
Flowing through my body from my inmost outwards
Giving life to every cell it touches and
Helping me to face the day each day
And I need to draw another in

20210917.0430

It'll be okay
I tell myself again and again
It'll be okay
I have to keep believing
It'll be okay
I can't let myself not believe that
It'll be okay
I can't let myself concieve of things other than that
It'll be okay
Even with believing that
It'll be okay
I'm close to panic
It'll be okay
If I don't make me believe that
It'll be okay
I know that I will fail
So
It'll be okay
I have to make it true that
It'll be okay
There's nothing else to do so
It'll be okay
And I'm the one to ensure that
It'll be okay
It'll be okay
It'll be okay
It'll be okay
It'll be okay

20210916.0430

Each day I feel there's
Some observance that I'm missing
Some holiday that I should mark
Some occasion worth attention
And I am not paying that fee
An old cliché
About the gift that is each day
Comes to mind
And that might be it
But I do not think it is
Not really
Unless it is that every gift
Comes at a cost to somebody
And I still wonder who
Still pays the prices for mine

20210915.0430

One of these days, I
Will be able to sit with a pen in my hand again
And not be writing what others will not read

20210914.0430

Running and running and running again and
Finding that my shoes are not as supportive as
They used to be but
Not knowing where I can get another pair
Along the way I'm going

20210913.0430

Set to run the races again
Marathonning despite time away from the track
My wind gives out earlier than I had thought it would
Because I have been exercising
But the tasks are different and
I do not have the endurance that I used to have

20210912.0430

Already
I can hear them warming up
Getting ready to play again a plaintive song
Such as I have heard before
With more players of less experience
And some
I know
I know
I know
Are deliberately out of tune

20210911.0430

Twenty years on
And they still say that the world has changed
That they remember the times before
And think that they were good
And there were good things about those days
For some
Just as there are good things about these days
For some
And maybe there are more for more
Which is as it ought to be
But if it is
Why do they look to former days
Knowing that the times before
Drew toward the one day
And these twenty years after

20210910.0430

So
This is how it is
This is how it has to be
This is what I have to see
When I look out around me
And I don't know what it is anymore

20210909

Thinking ahead
Was obviously
Not a strength
Yesterday
Or before
I must do better

20210908.0430

Tigers once but
Chicken-blooded now, they
Hover, rotors whirring
Looking for a landing zone
Filled with bullets and bile
And I worry that I have
Made a clearing for them
Somehow
Already

20210907.0430

All out of season, I go again
Thinking I might harvest apples
But may have more to do to prune errant branches
Give good soil for deeper rooting
And maybe the fruit will ripen sweetly
Nourish those who follow after
I can hope so
Wish me luck

20210909.0430

So
The one man can
Lay out glowsticks as an invitation to a trap
Set a truck on fire
Flee
Fire on four others
Killing a dog
Killing three
One a babe in arms
Another its mother
Another hers
Try to take a cop's gun
And still walk out alive?
But the other cannot have his truck break down
Without making officers afraid
Signing his own death warrant?
Or another cannot have a quiet night at home
Without execution?
Gee, I wonder why.

20210906.0430

Beside you now, I lift my fist
And even if my wrist is weak
It is stronger not alone
As is the case with yours
As we remember on this day
As we ought on other days
Because we've seen what happens when we do
And when we don't
And one is clearly better

20210905.0430

I listen yet to the years-old refrain
I've heard so often it has become plain
And clear to even me; I do not strain
Untangling threads the harmonies will weave
Or picking out the words that I believe
Still speak good thoughts I delight to receive.
I still, though, see that other still rely
On what they think is one voice to get by
Even if it feeds them on a lie
And tells them so-called thought-control abounds
When it itself divergent thought surrounds
And seeks to have it swallowed by the ground
A fate that waits for all, as must be said
But one to which some are more swiftly led.

20210904.0430

The staring blank pages rebuke me
Wordlessly
And I shudder at their censure
But that quivering is enough to
Break me free from
What holds me back
And I begin again

20210903.0430

Today, of course, is the last day I will be working at the Hill Country Council on Alcohol and Drug Abuse, Inc. After the weekend, I will take up my new position at Burnet High School in Burnet, Texas. Here, as I have done elsewhere, I thank the Council for the good years it has given me, and I wish my erstwhile coworkers all the best as they move forward--and as I do!

No poem for today, as might be thought--but I do have to offer the titular dash of lucid prose every now and again...

20210902.0430

Still the sparrows sing together and the wrens
As one among their number gains a new feather in a brighter hue
Promise of fairer plumage and more valuable to come
And the old staring owl looks to greener fields
Whither it will fly off all too soon
There again to vomit out what it has taken in over years
On fields where bulldogs frolic on the green

20210901.0430

Winding out the last few days
Where I have worked and garnered praise
Not yet a corpse yet still decay
But I recall that rot provides
More nourishment for future lives
And so my lingering helps thrive
Those who will follow after

20210831.0430

The most noble span will end all too soon
Following the sun and not the moon
And I cry out, a forelorn loon
Because I have missed my chance

20210830.0430

Sandpaper stares out
Scraping against itself less and less
And I really ought to put it away
But I have to keep it out
Even though I
Do
Not
Want
To

20210829.0430

I heard it on the radio
When she opened her store
There was a line down the street
Standing in the mist
And I thought of Dian Fossey
But I am not sure the subjects are so noble
And I am not sure Sigourney Weaver will take a role
In such a production as could be made from this

20210828.0430

Riding along
She spoke of a squishy cranberry
And my face soon matched its hue
In part at surprise and chagrin that she
Spoke so of a bog-borne fruit
In part because I didn't think of it
Though the metaphor is sensible enough
And maybe someday I will speak of it with her
When she asks me questions she hesitates to ask her mother
Or which her mother refers to me
There are some things I know more about
Few though they are
But it is more likely she will recall
Steel trap mind not rusted shut
And kept from the rain so it will not likley be

20210827.0430

A final day with the love goddess awaits
As I linger in this place where I have spent years
And though I feel the lack of a celebration I had once enjoyed
Surrounded by thousands screaming in delight
Moaning together as faces find turf
Still I look ahead to other days
And the love goddess embraces me now
As she will when I go on to greener fields

20210826.0430

Connected to the world
I once again
Breathe in deeply
Breathe out fully
Empty myself into the world for all to see
Breathe in again
And if there is some stink upon the air
There is also the smell of flowers
Of brewing coffee
Of a crackling fire
And that
At least
Is good

20210825.0430

Only four more months remain
Until the time comes back again
When all the shopping must be done
And many have not yet begun
Though displays now start to appear
Though the day does not draw near
As yet. The early salvos fall
In what all too many call
A war. It only has one side
Though its hawks won't be denied
And call for muster even now--
I'll not buy gifts yet, anyhow.

20210824.0430

The lilting young voices call
Singing songs that need an undergirding harmony
A root over which to build the chord
How hard it is not to run away
Join them in that verse
Base them in a baritone
Yet that cannot yet be

20210823.0430

Clay dug out from among the cypress knees
Hardened bark kneeling beside the virgin's flow
Beside which bushes grow and white hills rise
Taken to a bank
Whether hands will work upon it
Shape it into some new thing
Or simply change it out for money
Uncertain
But possible

20210822.04130

I once again stand
Where the road diverges
Not in a wood despite the trees around
But amid the rolling limestone hills
And one way is clear and open to me
Familiar from many times walking along it
Hurt is at the end of it
Its pavement is only pain
I do not want to take that road this time
But I fear to go another way

20210821.0430

The words are said
The deeds are done
The waiting is not over
But has instead begun
An asymptotic wearing-out
Until all is complete
A process suffered some before
That I again repeat

20210820.0430

I sing a song not of a tree
So no tree has grown anew
And I sing not of winds right now
That in the branches blew
Nor do I sing of ships this day
As none will carry me
No ship will ever bear me back across the sprawling sea
But all on land I make my way
To where I'm meant to be
A greener field that now awaits
My working awaits me

20210819.0430

A hope long looked for
Mourned as lost after years away
Should have returned
It has not
And life goes plodding on
Because it has to
At least for now
At least for a little bit longer

20210818.0430

The slender-stalked yellow flower
Staring in the back of the eye
Blowing in the wind and
Howling against the unfairness of it all
Its own voice drowning out what
Others have been trying to say
Complaining of being plucked and cast away
Such nectar as it might have had
Long spent

20210817.0430

Laocoön before the gates of Troy
Disbelieving the gift that had been left
An offered end to strife long borne
While those around him cheered
Strangled by serpents for skeptical views
Killed for the truth that killed Troy after
In whose sandals do I stand now
And those who stand beside me?

20210816.0430

She might have thought to
Swim again with dolphins
And she would have done today
Did we remain on the old shores
Where beside the flowing water
Four-point bucks bound
But we do not
And instead she will soar with eagles
Where the baptist's child dwells
In the coming days

20210815.0430

I have been made an Icarus before
Though I thought I had heeded Dædalus well
And it is summer even now
The hot sun pulling close as
Æstas dances across the
Swelling limsetone hills
And the winds blow to buoy me up
Higher although I am dragging an
Anchor of heavy steel long rusted from
Being sunk in salty waters
And I dare not let it go
Yet

20210814.0430

Yes
It is a Saturday
And I might well be in a park
But this is not the Fourth of July
And the ice-cream sellers do not sing
And I am lactose-intolerant
And still too much overweight

20210813.0430

Payday has come once again
But the pay marks out no end
To bills' onrushing as they send
Them out whose pockets they defend
And never mine

20210812.0430

The longer forms of verse
Escape me
The epic Muse will not sing in my ears
And the lyric will dance only a short dance before me
And that is perhaps as it should be
For I know I do not last long or
Thrust in deep
Nor have I the breadth to make a shallow treatment worthwhile
And certainly not a swift one
Of course they move on
Knowing that I do not satisfy
Yet I strive to do better every time
And even those whose stamina is
Stuff of legends
Sometimes come up short

20210811.0430

Despite
The delight
Of the bitter black brew
Only so much
Does its touch
Ever do
To quaff
The pure stuff
Has long pulled many through
Their days
And its praise
Many join without rue
For me
It must be
Much of what I once knew
But I
Am passed by
And I need something new

20210810.0430

No longer where the deer will leap
Warriors fight or pirates creep
Across the limestone seas grown steep
But now where eagles scream and fly
I think about my days gone by
And hope that she un time will try
And better fare than e'er did I

20210809.0430

Of course
She did not mean to show
All that she displayed
But I still looked
And saw the float
That was out on parade

20210808.0430

Fear is not wisdom
Nor yet bravery
Despite an old adage about
Discretion and valor
Because fear is indiscrete
Even when it does not show
It gibbers and raves
Gnawing at the cage that holds it
Ready to leave its leg in the trap so long as it can
Get away

20210807.0430

Little gifts and big ones
Spread all around
Taking up the space on shelves
Lying on the ground
Not wrapped up to hide themselves
From any prying eyes
But still when opened greedily
They yield good surprise

20210806.0430

Once again remembering
Words were spoken in measured rhyme
That had good sense and fell in time
Yet the words have fled away
Leaves in the warm and humid breeze
Dropped unthinking from the trees
Although they are still green

20210805.0430

At least some of the work is done
And I find I have begun
To rest a bit and find some ease
And me my mind begins to tease
With thoughts that strife is yet to come
Rising from depths I don't plumb
Because I know what flows beneath
The sword to Freudian ego's sheath
But if the blade is dull or keen
I do not know; I have not seen

20210804.0430

The carpet is in patches now
And the dust that puffs with every step is not
Because of what was tracked in by
Tired feet plodding along
Daring no bareness for the
Nails sticking up and out from it
Few relish such piercings

20210803.0430

I did not think to sit again
In that space where I'd worked my pen
Before the time came to an end
That I would live at home
But I again find myself here
A place that had grown strangely dear
Where I once wrote throughout the year
Though, soon enough, I'll roam

20210802.0430

Looking at walls made barren
Where once they had been
Not abundant
But full
I ache while I write
Squatting again where
I had been at home

20210801.0430

Today
Once again
They will gather
Who are separated by generations
If less now in area than before
Stand beside the first ranch road
Numbered fittingly
And communing once again in joy
Before it is too late

20210731.0430

Again I long to hear the dice
Roll and clatter among lies
Told with friends as we all fight
The challenges with our feigned might
That others yet to us present--
And that we might actually win.

20210730.0430

Not yet two score
Certainly not more
Yet I am sore
As rare before
I think I tore
Something loose

20210729.0430

The Ides of March
Do not approach
But the Julian ending
Does encroach
And Augustine rising
Comes in fire
That burns with heat
Not of desire

20210728.0430

To say
I told you so
Is cold comfort when
The thing predicted
Happens
And you and I and others are
Fucked
As I well know
Because
Well
I told you so

20210727.0430

Staggering forward though
Not a drop has passed the lip
Of malted barley or pressed-out grape
Nor head-strike suffered
But drunk on something else
Not taken in but given out
Again and again until
Only dregs remain
And soon they will be swallowed, too

20210726.0430

The singer sings
The presence of absence disappears
The paradox resolving in a line not quite crooned out
A tenor never really can croon quite right
But it remains in place
The hole where once there was remains gaping
And no amount of fill really takes its place
Making other holes in other places
And there is no gain

20210725.0430

Only five months yet remain
Until the day comes once again
Beleaguered in the red-voiced words
That fall stinking like the turds
Of pachyderms that plod along
To find a place where they belong
And trample places that they go
In passing through creating woe
So stuff and garnish all your homes
For who knows where that one will roam
Who by calling out for more
On the day has declared war
That in five short months will be today--
Or so the squawking pundits say

20210724.0430

O, city of a President,
To you today I me commit,
Entering you once again and
Thinking, this time, not to leave

20210723.0430

So
This is it
The end of things
Little pomp and less fanfare
No tattoo to march on out on
Just shutting the doors and turning off the lights
And heading off into the growing night

20210722.0430

The day approaches when
I will leave what I have known again
And will once again begin
To learn something new
But the journey is not so long this time
And it is easier for having been done before

20210721.0430

It may be that
A tape stretches taut across the road ahead
Some banner suspended above it
But this is at least a triathlon
If not penta or septa
And I think I only trained for the one event

20210720.0430

It is not the sound of
The screaming clock that vexes me
When I wake up in the morning
No birdsong or cock-crow
Nor even dogs' barking or caterwauling from
The horny feral felines flocking down the street
Oh, no
It is yet other noise
Quiet to the ear perhaps
But not less loud elsewhere
And harder to shut out because of it

20210719.0430

What a joy it is
Counting down the last few days until
A joy expected should occur
Yet I well know that
Any drink taken too much
Too often
Makes the drinker ill

20210718.0430

I linger yet where I have camped
The sides of the tent still flexing, somehow
And know the stay has been good
If longer than I had intended
But I look at last to return home
As I thought I never would
And I am glad of it.

20210717.0430

Freed at last
From one long task
I search for another to take
The bond that I wear
The burden I bear
Is one I for me make

20210716.0430

Expatriate that I am
I still travel from time to time
To that country to which I am not native
But into which I immigrated
Went through all the tests to become a citizen
And had to leave again
Finding no steady work
No place that would have me and keep me
No place where I could put down roots
And grow
And I am just now ending such a trip
A sojourn through what might have been
And it was good
But it never would have been

20210715.0430

How I miss the clattering dice
Shining stonelike things singing
Falling from my fingers
Their percussion beating out the tempo of
Adventures in the mind!
But how much more do I miss the friends
With whom I play such music!
The band is often better than the gig.

20210714.0430

They said to me
Both no and yes
But they had not risen
Beside Cuiviénen, so
After just a bit of prodding
I got a straight answer

20210713.0430

I might be thought to wave a banner
From the word that would apply
But it is no pennant of victory I wave
Nor is the pole erect

20210712.0430

They invite us back to
Simpler times but
The times were never simple
Save that the complexity was
Kept from us
Or some of us
And we were sheltered
Some of us
I
Know too many who were not
Cannot ignore their tears
My own have flowed to greet them

20210711.0430

The work keeps going
A juggernaut under the wheels of which
Sacrifices are made
Not all willingly
But not all not
The hulking stone luchring forward
Inexorable
New stones added as
Others crumble off

20210710.0430

The hydra sits and snarls and snaps
And I strike off head after head
Nor am I alone in the blade-wielding
But it seems none of us has a brand
Or not one hot enough to sear the stumps
Even if there's one fit to our hands
That sizzles in the leather's parent
And so more heads arise

20210709.0430

I hate the phrase
I'm here to say
A tired cliché
Used as filler
Nothing more
Because saying where it can be heard
Demands a form of presence
At least
And all of us are where we are
Speaking or silent

20210708.0430

The work goes ever on and on
Though it needs to leave no door to do it
Or I do not
Laboring at home as outside it
And there is no pile of gold
Or shining jewel
A kingdom's ransom
Waiting at the end of it

20210707.0430

The lush carpet that had been spread
Is fading into brown again
As always happens when
Arien drags her boat on by
Drags because
There is usually little water to float it

20210706.0430

For now
Things will get back to normal
Aestas settling into her residency
Dancing the same dance most every day
And her audience will soon grow tired of the show
Though she will sometimes change her
Scanty white costume for
Something more concealing
Heavy and gray
And to those shows
On limestone hills
We will flock
Gladly

20210705.0430

Those displaced
Have ever faced
Great peril and pain
I had not thought
I would be caught
Among that group again

20210704.0430

Many think to have a blast
As they look back into a past
That never was but that they prize
And still perpetuate the lies
That they were told in days gone by
Not stopping oft to wonder why
The tales rehearsed endure despite
The tendency long to benight
Those who would mouth freedom's praise
On this and many other days

20210703.0430

With one thing done
And another accomplished
Yet more have joined the line
To ride me
Screaming in joy as my
Joints and rails rattle

20210702.0430

Not yet in the idyll at the park's back
Still I hold its entry in my hands
Key to a paradise for a lock
I am about to change over.

20210701.0430

Nine to five your work has been
Since the day that you began
And I, glad, join you for yet more
Another five and double score
Happy birthday, Sonya!

20210630.0430

The news has come again
Friends are moving on along their ways
Seeking new adventures and delights
But this time
I am not among those left behind
Moving myself
And I am not sure how I feel
Having been the stolid center for so long
A mossy stone now set to roll
At least a little

20210629.0430

Twin woodpeckers seeking out
The tasty grubs within the trees
Hammering away at the pulpy source
Hoping to find something juicy
Sweet
Nourishing within
And somehow avoiding whiplash on the way

20210628.0430

Five scores of scores
And half again more
The paces trod herein
With some steps broad
While others nod
Only now does work begin

20210627.0430

No matter how much I drink
It is never enough
The dark liquid soap had from coarse remains
Never seems to wash away the signs
Stains upon the face gotten from
Looking too long at what I ought not
Perhaps
To have seen

20210626.0430

Flitting little things
Marked in black tracing patterns
Repeated again and again with variation
Pregnant from the fertilization by
Some strange cylinder
Tracing out in lingering fluid
What it wants to say
They flutter away as soon as seen
Alighting on the leaves
Swiftly forgotten

20210625.0430

You have let half the year go by
And have not bet begun to buy
The gifts by which you think you will find love
From friends and family alike
And now that you've been reminded that
The holidays approach and
You have to buy things for them
I wonder if you wonder if
They really love you
Because you are not sure you really love them
Are you?

20210624.0430

Running as quickly as I can but
Not gaining any ground, I
Pant and heave and go less and less
Quickly with every step
Taking just a little longer than
The last as the
Distance lengthens in front of me

20210623.0430

Not Claudius about his business
Stained with the second sin
Still I stand in pause
Where I shall first begin
And it is far more than both
I neglect

20210622.0430

Again embarking on a quest
To see if I can pass a test
Undertaken at behest
Of nobody but me
I wonder if I will succeed
When I have not yet learned to heed
The long-heard statement of the need
To let myself be free

20210621.0430

Do you do you
The same when you read
As when you fuck
And if you do not
Do you really think
The writer does the writer's self
The same
When the pen is in hand as
When a dick is
And if you do
Do you satisfy as much as you are satisfied
And how swiftly do you sleep
Face falling between the open pages?

20210620.0430

As Aestas dances in today
She dances ever as she may
And I celebrate as I am celebrated
The one these many years
The other fewer now
And for long
I hope

20210619.0430

We gather soon to lay to rest
One whom many would say blessed
And I go at the behest
Of those whom I well love
But that small grief amid the day
Does not much in me belay
Knowledge of the holiday
That was too long in coming.

20210618.0430

Having sat idle long
I stretch to regain my old strength
Stamina and flexibility
But sitting still has rusted joints
That formerly moved freely
And the piston that pushed so proudly
Seems to have leaked

20210617.0430

Jiggling fluid sac
Trapped between the fleshy layers
And the dead
Poked and prodded
But not popped
Yet

20210616.0430

Seated once again in
My accustomed place
I know I will soon
Stand and move
And not return
Fate going ever as it must

20210615.0430

Once again in the hot seat
Sweating it as Aestas approaches
And she is not the only dancer
Showing more and wearing less
As the languid summer comes
Though it is she who will grind most
And others wear down

20210614.0430

How little time upon return
Do older ways take to return
Though we may for other practice yearn
It's no new flame in which we burn
And we are left to smolder

20210613.0430

I am returned from time away

And soon I will have more to say

But for now I must delay

20210612.0430

The long road beckons again
And I will answer its call
Trending after the solar course
Though far slower than the Helian procession
And somehow still less stately

20210611.0430

Facing once again the red wooden rod
I make to cross the Father of Waters
Hoping to be spared his wrath
A more vengeful god than those they pray to
Dwelling beside Lupe's home
The virgin stream

20210610.0430

Where shining sits that jewel
Between the softly rolling hills
That seem to want mounting
There would I plant my seed
And if no fruit would spring therefrom
Still would the sowing be to my delight

20210609.0430

Standing where I
Am part of the very ground
And have left a mark
Others have read
I was eased and
For a moment
The world made sense

20210608.0430

The words are eggs
Laid and harvested
Beaten and scrambled and cooked until
They look nothing like the layer thought they would
And they do not seem so fluffy
Speared upon fork
Shoveled into mouth

20210607.0430

The summer light streams in
Throwing shadows away as it enters
Earlier than perhaps it ought
But I press on towards its home
Ready to break in there as it broke into mine

20210606.0430

There's really not a lot to say
About the meaning of the day
That many went into the fray
And forty years have gone away
Since my parents said "I do"
And have not said "I don't"

20210605.0430

Once again
She begged for me to
Go in
Insert myself into the
Feminine space
She already occupies
A place where I fit poorly
But I know well enough to keep my quiet
My calm
And she has yet to learn such skills

20210604.0430

In wrinkled citrus yet does it appear,
The Stupid God, and many, eager, hear
Its lesser avatars in this late year
Who strut and boast and bellow, squealing sows
Or clucking hens or farting, lowing cows,
And as each, done performing, takes their bows
And stoops to scoop up roses cast on stage,
Floral offerings of glad outrage
That they give who think themselves encaged
Because the heirs of those who once wore chains
Who felt the cracking whip and suffered pains
Therefrom no longer sing the old refrains
But sing instead the songs of its despite--
They struggle, dragging all away from right.

20210603.0430

The shining sun slides westward, dropping
And night falls heavy in its wake
And soon the place where my head rested
These many years I will forsake

20210602.0430

Sitting again in the canopied throne
Looking out over the goings and comings
Blooms borne back and forth
As Aestas dances in visiting Ostara
Teasing the show she will put on
Now that the silver curtains have been drawn back

20210601.0430

Now that May has gone away
She starts to croon, the sultry June
Where wetter April played before--
And still might she show us more!

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

20210430.0430 "Sixth-grade English"

I had the benefit of wisdom as a tutor
And I did try to heed the words
My traveled teacher told me
Though few hear well when they face such days
Too few
And some never find their ears
Too many
And she loved the apple I placed on her desk
But I have never found that type again
Though I have other varieties in plenty
Abundant orchards' yieldings
Tart and bitter where the one was sweet
And if they may make better cider
Still do I long again to
Have that prized fruit to taste

20210429.0430

I know some will seek sometime to pluck
The little Iceland flower I yet tend
That springs up strong and fair in
The stony-soiled Hill Country
And I cannot stop the hands from taking that bloom
Just as no hand could stop me
Plucking fruit from the brown bough and
Eating of its juicy flesh
Or planting seed to grow anew
But I can hope the hands that take it up in time
Are kind
And relish in the beauty of the bloom
Seeing that it has what it needs
If they will not let the dryad free

20210428.0430

Jack
Of course
Has an annual lease
But Uri has gotten himself banned
And will join Katrina who
Years ago
Threw her tantrum at the grand old lady
Dirtied her jewels and scattered some
Because he left such a mess on the limestone floor
Wrecked the plumbing and ruined
So many oak and cypress pillars
That had stood so long
Jack will do well to check his guests
Because it looks like he may lose his place
In the local time-share
If things go on as they have

20210427.0430

Many look for Aestas to come again
Thrilling in the heat she brings
And I do not deny her beauty here
But bask in it when I need not
Labor and sweat and thirst because of it
Yet Ostara is still a better decorator
And if she was not able to spread so many of her blankets
Across the weathered limestone floors
Between the oak and cypress columns
Carved in their ornate forms
It is only because Jack
And his unpleasant guest Uri
Wrecked the place and she
Had a lot to do to clean up after them
Housemother to frat boys so that
Her sisters and cousins and friends
Need not see again their depravity
Unless they pop by while Jack has his turn
And that does happen sometimes

20210426.0430

Ostara drew the curtains down
Lowered the thermostat
Her lease on the time-share is not up yet
And she made sure that we
Temporary guests that the real renters suffer--
We must amuse them with our fretting--
Remember who pays the bills
And it is not us

20210425.0430

Think not that Stupid God has gone to rest,
Retired to its awkward ugly nest
Because one avatar failed in one test,
But know that others of that ilk abound,
And if of smaller voice, they still surround
In numbers such as still may well confound.
The vigil should not now be set aside
Because the wrinkled citrus now does hide,
For subtler things still work, and woe betide
Who recks not that the peril still endures,
A foul disease for which there is no cure
Save one, and that not open to the pure.
Rejoice in that one evil's gone away,
But know another comes with every day.