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Monthly Archives: March 2022

Drunk from the Dipper

midnight pours the star
in the hole of the dew drop
silent reflection

on the blades of grass
myriad mirrors of water
blink the stellar heights

a sitting thinker
chin on fist looks at the lawn
drinks from the dipper









3.1 8/5
 
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Posted by on March 28, 2022 in haiku, Poetry

 

Juneau’s Camp of the Misguided

epiphanies
overtaxing the lenient mind
accelerating the Midas crime
when sky waves ion forth the rhyme
one tier, the tear at a time,

far-flung in 777 four-four time
so let all bug the jig Hibernian
the catalyst of the perception
for the pharmacology of the limey lemon;

Cesar wasn’t sheared from bony spavin,
osteoporosis then lightning-strike the Olympian
this Pandora congenital from our primordial slime
wedgie the peace-signing vegetarian
who mimics the austere agrarian
in honor of her ladyship,
the august Queen Maeglyn

in kind,
the Limericist has thus provided
a microscopy undivided
with the summarization undecided
where no other tags coincided
here in Juneau’s camp of the misguided
it follows
Marines fancy spam
soup, biscuits, stew, and ham,
all made from salty pork — spam     









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Posted by on March 28, 2022 in Poetry

 

Testing the Limits

‘The only place I feel alive is on the wire.’
-Karl Wellenda

1977, at age 72, walked
a 720-foot cable
about 2 football fields - from the
Miami Fountainebleau to the Eden Roc Hotel,
170 feet above the ground
crowds of people watched
the marvelous feat of balance,
the walk ‘the toughest stunt
of his life’ up to that point

Puerto Rico, one year later,
73, went flying
not from age, or misstep,
but the gust of wind
off the Caribbean
& the poorly strung guy-wire

live TV,
dropped 120 feet,
hit his head on a parked taxi,
& five minutes later
pronounced

no great surprise
Karl, the founder of
The Flying Wallendas
wanted to finish the journey
in the same way
he lived - no risk, wasted life

disclaimer
foolish risk?
life wasted





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Posted by on March 28, 2022 in Poetry

 

African Queen

Lake Victoria
the source of the river Nile
watered papaya

the Nile river coils
like a snake through Uganda
plantain and peanuts

fishing for Nile perch
along side of crocs and hippo
fillets for a year

Nilotic people
tall well muscled large boned
gleaming like the river

Lake Victoria
the queen of fertility
for the African









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Posted by on March 28, 2022 in Poetry

 

Metaphysic

the thin opaque skin
consciousness in consciousness
the hairs on a root

the river tree tap
drinks freely from its source
green and translucent

mind body switch-back
the body or the spirit
which is more real?

spring summer and fall
winter killing all green things
the skin grows thinner






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Posted by on March 28, 2022 in Poetry

 

Tsultrim Dawa

the tea stall on the border of India
waiting for a brilliant idea
ten cups of chai later, reading a map
almost nodded out for a nap

wanted to visit Bhutan
as a world traveler and the fan
twelve years planned the visit
but on the border without a permit

from Mumbai to New Jalpaiguri
the Gitanjali Express didn't hurry
crossed India from west to east
the train ride was a visual feast

arrived at the north-east gateway
connecting four countries within a day
just sat in a tea room now stalled
sweaty with the squirts and appalled

had been there all alone
a man with a bald head like a dome
sat for some chai and rice
a friendly look on his face

ask if he spoke English
but he could only speak a bit
yet understood my plan
offered to take me to Bhutan

being a Buddhist lama there
he even paid my bus fare
to enter by the city Phuentsholing
the city of Bhutan's queen and king

passed through the Bhutan Gate
festooned with dragons paintings
high up on a Himalayan foothill
the monastery like a jewel revealed

he took us up in a Suzuki van
the elevated view was like heaven
visited his Karbandi Monastery
the beginning of a new story

Buddhist lama & Christian priest
are likewise the earth's tourist
tuned together by the universal sign
no wise person could malign











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Posted by on March 27, 2022 in Poetry

 

To the Rescue

off to the rescue shelter on a snowy March day
missed Bella 
the 13-inch beagle departed in October age 15
time for a new companion dog 
the plan was a miniature
breed like Bella was 

jar of dog biscuits on the entrance counter 
harmonies of low and high pitched barking 
a pug 
a collie 
a shepherd 
a poodle
large kennel crates with names 

the tall man & squat wife in puffy north faces
baby talk & pointing
searched both front back areas
the wire hair terrier seemed promising
but not ready for adoption

out to the cold blue van sad-faced
remembered a brown dog 
appearing hopeless for adoption
stuffed in the way back out of sight
back in for another look
but not in the choice parameters
of a miniature

a chocolate brown mix pit bull & Labrador
Staffordshire bull terrier
sign on crate - Molly
written under - mellow with some bad manners
if you don't want a dog
don't look them in the eyes & of course
took her home

seven years
the best dog ever
five months ago
cancer, the vet, held
trusting eyes for the last time

rescue








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Posted by on March 27, 2022 in Poetry

 

Tiger With a Toothpick

( from an ancient parable)

2 Bengal tigers terrorized a village
they were notorious 
for killing goats, cows, and eating even people

a sadhu holy man passing through heard the stories
a pacifist and a vegetarian, he convinced the village leaders
not to hunt the tigers --
he would have a holy conversation with them
persuading them to leave the village alone 
--the village elders nodded

he walked into the jungle where the tigers reportedly lived
after a few hours, 
heard growls behind him 

they were hunting him
he tried to keep his nerve, 
shouting Sanskrit mantras

their shining green eyes
told him they were happy to meat with him
though he would only be a stringy snack
from his much fasting

sprinting, the sadhu
felt the rancid breath from one of them
just before his long-jump leap off the high cliff

whooshing downward, 
reached the hand & managed to snag a vine
which broke his fall --he hung there dangling, 
suspended halfway down

looking up 
saw the tiger that almost clamped him salivating above

looking down
saw the hungry mate waiting with mouth open to catch him

the vine he was holding wasn't very thick
little mice came out of the cliff holes 
& began nibbling the vine
the fibers began snapping, giving way

a strawberry bush grew out of the cliff's side
he picked one of the juicy berries
mashed it in his mouth
the sweetest he'd ever taste










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Posted by on March 27, 2022 in Poetry

 

His Shining

handed down from unknown ages,
a secret locket carried from birth,
an inscribed angelic amulet
–barely noticeable, but
always with him

its ancestral origin was unknown,
dangled above the baby boy,
a spinning mobile before his wide eyes
watching and calling,
the boy cooed at it
and heard an ancient name then,
now, and to come

he rode his tricycle down a big hill,
a dump truck was there at the bottom
he could not stop the spinning pedals
with bare feet.
around his neck, it rested on
the five-year-old’s heaving chest,
as he flew over his handlebars,
sinking deep into the searing hot asphalt.
blood-curdling screeches, his aunt Helen ran
kicking off high heels to extract
his tarred, quivering body, covered
with blisters and 3rd degree
burns.
the locket was there too
soothing him, anointing him
with his secret name

the foolish young soldier raced
through the California desert
in a borrowed pickup truck.
so sure of himself, he gulped
another swig of tequila,
saw double,
and passed out.
the neglected childhood trinket
still suspended against his heart,
–it whispered his name again
as the lights spun wild and went out.
he woke hours later,
sprawled on the desert sand,
unharmed,
he remembered it calling
his name again and again
just before all went black.

uncountable times it flashed
his real name at the edges of
his consciousness, a pet name
known and inscribed
on his shining,
only on his shining

his old gray head
could no longer remember.
his labored breathing
was not expected
to last till morning.
as he passed through the portal,
the silver cord snapped. he heard
his shining name called from the
other side.








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Posted by on March 26, 2022 in Poetry

 

Walkway of the Stars — Haiku Bracelet

nuclear option
the Damocles sword aimed at
earth's blue & green neck

the heinous creature
threatens mother earth's future
finger on button

nuclear winter
anthropogenic forecast
the fires become ice

for the next world war
tipped warheads cross boundaries
total terracide

from a distant star
space travelers find a planet
barren and wasted








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Posted by on March 26, 2022 in haiku, Poetry