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Monthly Archives: July 2021

Do, or Do Not

The balcony porch overlooking the trees and golf course
provides solace for meditation for me 
and the pit bull lying next to my chair. 

I read, and the dog soaks in the fresh air and warm rays.
Then the nuisance of the electronic probe called a cell-phone
horns in on the scene. For all of the convenience they provide,
they are an infernal nuisance. Robocalls out the wazoo.
 
This time it's my friend again. His breathlessness communicates
that it's another life or death drama. That is his perception
of his world. He is gloating that he caught his girlfriend
offering favors on the internet, and he has the screenshots.
He snooped on her cell phone while she was asleep.

It's apparent that she is playing with several others, but
he's known this for a long time. It isn't fresh news.
He wants her and despises her at the same time.

He already knows my take on the whole issue.
So I take the opposite approach and suggest
he marry her. They seem to be made for each other.

Another morning of reading derailed by a conundrum
that isn't one.


 
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Posted by on July 31, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Time’s Up

On the porch again with trusty pitbull
sprawled out. It's overcast today
but comfortable. I'm starting to focus
on my reading when the cell ring-a-dings. 

It's a friend who is undecided whether
to keep his girlfriend or break up. He regularly catches
her cheating but always makes
excuses for why he hangs on. He describes
her as a user, a manipulator who needs a place
to live - so she appeases him with sex. He cools off
for a while but continues to smolder within.

He calls for guidance but usually does the
exact opposite. 

Times up. Dog and I go in. Reading
will have to wait because of a wasted
conversation.



 
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Posted by on July 30, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Fill Up

My morning porch watch incorporates
a book and a chocolate-brown dog
idling next to my c spring chair.
She always runs out first to do
her morning duties; 
then she joins me as I read.
The sun benevolently warms me
but gets too much for the dog, 
quickly absorbing the heat
beginning to pant. She gets up
and stares into my eyes with her
Murphy-expression saying
eloquently, "Time to eat."



 
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Posted by on July 28, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Varieties of Green

Sitting on the porch, reading scripture, I noticed all the green
surrounding me. Everywhere I look, there is green. Black-eyed
Susans are below and purple-flowered bushes straight ahead.
To my left, my eyes focused on a tree I have seen for years
but never understood. It is a maple tree, but you would never
know it because ivy has overwhelmed it to make it unrecognizable.
I remember Buddha taught that two phenomena
make humans unhappy: Clinging and aversion.
I almost felt like I want to take shears and cut the ivy off
the maple because the poor tree cannot express its true
nature. Still, it would be a fool's errand as with many people
in a similar predicament.


 
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Posted by on July 27, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Roots

While I was sitting on the porch, reading
under a canopy of maple trees, looking out
at the golf course next door-- I realized
how thankful I am and should be. 

The neighbor with a protruding pot belly 
always comes out and sits by the fence 
with a Labatt Blue in hand.
He is like clockwork, drinking his morning
away until, by evening, he's boisterously
drunk. 

Humans without 
a consciousness of their spiritual roots 
are like brutes awaiting
the razor of reality 
to cut their existence short.



 
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Posted by on July 26, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Befriend





"Maybe it's time we stop trying to outsmart the truth
and let it have its day." --Alfred

Even though we might imagine reality sucks, 
it always has a habit
of leaping up and biting us in the butt. The facts
are not our enemy. If you can't whip them - work with them. 
We can never outrun the truth. When we strive to outwit it,
we only end up opposing ourselves & our best interests.
But be careful of spurious "facts."






 
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Posted by on July 25, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Much Ado

While I was sitting on the sun-drenched porch, reading,
a squirrel fracas fomented on a tree branch overhead.
Who discerns how these things get incited, 
but it shook the limbs and leaves with its frenzy.
Seven or eight incensed critters were squeaking
ferociously at each other and chasing after one,
then another, very dramatically because
of some squirrel infraction that would be
ludicrous to determine. The uproar reminded
me of human politics, which are often much ado
about a whole lot of nothing, but full of sound
and fury.
 

 
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Posted by on July 25, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Drama Kings and Queens and Everyone in Between

Jethro was a bull around bone china,
the racket of smashing followed him.
He never figured out how to move on,
clinging desperately to his broken experiments, 
trying to force the unfeasible to clank along.
At 35, he had had several aborted relationships
that permanently terminated with
emotional and physical mayhem.
He feared abandonment and couldn't
comprehend how his partners could so glibly
disconnect from him without
any necessary protracted drama; his addiction.
So, he felt the urge to harm them,
to pay them back for their ruthless rejection.
Like some dogs who will let you
into the house but snap at you
when you try to leave, be careful of
the Jethros and Jethrenes.



 
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Posted by on July 23, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Love Has a Name

The human condition clips on;
hubris dogs their every step,
everyone neglecting their source.

Love sees
involved invisibly in our regular suffering;
vivifying our very existence, and yet,
ignored by the masses.
No one, it seems, is paying attention,
going their own destructive ways.

When the fact remains;
One is tapping on our heart now, so willing to
recreate us from the inside out. Love
died, resurrected, and reigns. Let it in.


 
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Posted by on July 22, 2021 in Poetry

 

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Craven

Three hundred fifty years ago, Milton said, 
"Craving is never satisfied." 
Contemporary media perceives this
and leverages it to empty our bank accounts,
to commandeer our bodies,
set the agenda for our opinions,
to titillate our desires until
the appetites enslave us.
Our wills are molded by 2 of the 5 
gates, inundated with the flickering
of looking-glass screens flashing subliminal
messages to eat, eat, eat, or hate or lust 
We are their patsies-- 
reprogrammed every minute.





 
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Posted by on July 21, 2021 in Poetry

 

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