My Poems

unfathomable times

One side or the other wrecked the whole world;
it has to be their fault, not ours! Special times,
unlike before, these times of ours matter most.
The day’s decisions, political postures, military
movements and financial flounders are what’s

Tired old goats enjoy the late afternoon sun,
grazing peacefully while kids frolic nearby.
Mountaintops lit with the same slanting rays
spread their static wisdom and sweeping shade
toward the savanna’s horizon. Children worldwide
improve their swinging skills, mastering the rhythm
of leg pumps and body leans while soaking in sunset.
Undulating, frenzied flight of our fearless progeny!
Middle-aged folks, fed up with inertia, leap from soft
sofas to power-walk a determined mile toward dusk.
Steadfast and sweaty, sated calorie combustors!
Cities of millions, if just momentarily, function freely.
Machines machinate, the vehicular orchestra hums
along, and we safely maneuver rush hour this time.

What a time to be alive! These times of ours,
breaking in unfathomable ways. Crashing as
waves here, but deserving praise over here, too.

unfucked by fire

kindle your fire with care
even if no-one else feels its warmth
others may draw close to the flicker
or maybe they won’t
whatever your course
keep that flame alight
and do what you must
to stoke your glorious blaze
unfuck your life, unfuck the whole world
with a few sticks at at time

running and the rhythm

The running and the rhythm. Heaving breath and smooth hot-stepping. Sweat dripping and fiery eyes burning. Thoughts thunk and muscled miles merging. Hauling and hoofing, uphill steadily steaming. The boom-diggity and zoom-zippity. Hell, even the trudge-drudgery and grinding gradually. The move, the groove, the long-lasting loping. The bad mother… flying freely. Heh! Ain’t it funky now?