Rock and Rain

On this last day in April

rain gives the look to rock

that it could grow things

Midnight Snack

Up from delta depths
hallway lightswitch shuffle -
your thoughts on the screen

The Other Side of Sunset

Gazing to where

prestellar penumbra

rises and fades

evening rust

caresses

Chicken Wild Rice Soup

After this head-stretching day
complete with rollerskates
I read about 1940's physicists
and have a second bowl

Outside the Gate

I think I'll wait

right here

take your time

Time Dependent

The joy of not knowing
leaves me exultantly typing
x's and y's everywhere

And then the bill comes
finding the roof still leaking
and the cat looking up
beside an empty dish

How crazy and careless
when I was younger
to think that I would know
at some later time

Fresh Paint

I reach for sky blue
short on oxygen --
burn the brushes

The Gig

I arise at four,
sort all of the black cables
camping style, in bags

The first big speaker
and the next, and two others
and take a short break

out to the blue van
forth and back and forth and back
lug the amp upstairs

PA loaded up
grab the dusty gig bags
and away we go

simple two wheel cart
my back forever thankful
up and down the stairs

The gang's all here
noisy tuning, test, 1, 2
how many minutes left

first chords, wailing voice
thunder tune opens, check sound
watch for feedback, please

less keyboard, more bass
don't be afraid to sing out
violin gently weeps

break time, be right back
second set well grooved, smoother
stories in our eyes

they cheer and leave us
which is fine, as we all turn
to tear down chatter

homeward night freeway
mozart on the radio
unpack - tomorrow

Otherwise

A pair of squirrels
scoot about morning branches
across purple clouds

undeveloped skill

There are some things that

I simply have no clue about...

this is one of them

Carry That Weight

Synchronous eye-mind movement

a pause, a reach, a toss

the juggler reaches new heights

(4 min. 27 sec.)

Back in a Moment

just have to

get out

sometimes

Oblivious

sixty million monitors
cannot be wrong...
they simply shine

Bark

evening campfire
incessant bark...
hand me a log

(wouldn't really do it, of course - well, not usually anyway)

Synapse

what I meant to say

from sky through cloud...

lost in the synapse

Day's End

A sight for sore eyes
come sit beside me awhile
sweet companion mine

Easter Sky (20060416)

flying

at cross-purposes

The Researcher

Arms awave, he smiled
and they let him continue
for another 5 minutes

Blue View with Horizon

There is always

a horizon

5:23 PM

Where you are
and whether
and each day
reaching, reaching

If I could hold
could hold
would never
grow old

This melody
arises without words
or knowing
or thinking twice

Last Night, There Was A Sunset

> 98% of the human genome is said to be junk

noncoding intergenic introns

...last night, there was a sunset...

The Last Minute

Quiet drive
classic Cinderella music
my post office is closed

Guard Duty

Ground-hop gently
mother squirrel
and carry your burden softly

pause long
to look
at me

hold your young
by the nape
and squirrel-climb the maple

jump -
all the way over
to pine branches

your young in nest,
keep guard
at the branch

Choices

A or B

A and B

A and/or B

B and then A

B and not A

B or not A

B or not B

The Next Gig

Here's a scary one:
we were on firm footing
I thought

Know that plans
can change, rearrange
into unfamiliar shape

Gravity always works
and so do lots of people
with inversely related power

Increased future uncertainty
diminishes hope and focus
by a path negatively exponential

While energy is conserved
entropy rules secondly
and action calls for reaction

The experiment is over,
time to write it up
and move on to the next

they say
you're only as good
as your next gig

To Brother, With Golf Club

Do you remember that time
that you chased me around
the harvested corn field
with a golf club in your hands?

The late afternoon sun
cast slanting shadows
and you meant to give me
a piece of your mind

Living in daily proximity
has its challenges
and thankfully
I could run

Now you live
several days by car
on a hill

I look at an old golf club
and think of your birthday
today
and how proud I am of you

my brother

A Few Simple Questions

An inquiry into poetic tendencies (courtesy of Carol):

1.Where do your poems start? What causes you to sit down and write a poem? Is it a certain emotion?

They typically start with the question of whether I have anything to write about, and I'm usually curious to know what it is. It's also typically a 'want to do' break from a 'have to do' day.

2.Do you have different stages to your poetry? Can you see how you've matured or changed over the years through your poetry?

Been at this for a good couple of months, and so far find that I do lots of second guessing. It's a learning process...

3. Do you have a favorite poem that you have written? What do you like about it? What does it say about you that you like?

I think so far I like the one called Ripple Effect, which was written after very intentionally reading through some Keats poems on a day when the ice melted from a nearby lake. I like how a moment to be shared develops and the turning to look and find that person.

4. Do you have a favorite that someone else has written? What does it do for you? Does it give you an answer or cause you to think a certain way? Does it motivate you?

Somehow I gravitate to Frost's 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening', likely because I memorized it as a child at my father's prompting (I think there was money involved) and I later made & published a version called "Distilling by Drops on a Friday Evening" which is heavily adapted to the chemistry lab world where much of my life has been spent. I like Frost's simple, clean ways of evoking an image - at least that's how it seems to me.

5. Do you only write poetry or is it a part of a vast array of writing methods that you use to express your self or your thoughts?

Most of my writing is carefully worded emails on technical work-related items. On rare occasions I work some haiku-form bits into the text:

These are wonderful
I wish I could write such things
but not enough time

The Monday Race

this one needs to be sent back to the kitchen!

Just think back
on all the marvelous Mondays
raring to go
chomping at the bit
pawing the ground
and wild-eyed

There's the bell
and they're off!
round the first turn
it's Green Tea by a nose!
over on the backstretch,
Bacon Bagel closes in
it's scrambled legs (***weak line alert***)

Hoof thunder
well-leaned profile
crop at the ready
there you are
fighting for place
ever edging forward

Home stretch
give all
don't fall
there's the line
camera flash
the Monday race

Ripple Effect

Borrowed sun-distant form
seals over half the year
clearly congealed and smooth

Long day edge-wise remover
reveals the rippling melody of light
a fluid dance from farther shore

Such brightness freely taken
I turn and look for you
and all that it can tell

Guitar Man

From the all night focus on getting the sound
to this morning as I'm thinking about how to get that
Carlos Santana flow out of my effects box
and "should there be any delay?" -

I remember Jimi and how he didn't make it to the hospital

stricken words

"Take a hike!"
such cruel words
I have not heard
but feel

so I put on
my hiking boots
check the pack
pack some meals

trail head here,
it seems
and leads -
let's not worry

set a pace
"study as you goes"
from rock to rock
step carefully

with others on the trail
speak,
but don't complain
and do not be surprised at rain

take care of feet
rest when needed
signs and warnings
should be heeded

scheduled for removal

Owie Zowie

this one was written upon waking up with a toothache on a Saturday morning and not having a very clear idea of what to do next - it doesn't hurt so much now, which is inexplicable. I was going to delete this one, but here it is anyway.

"Get thee to a dentist chair!"
the weekend is begun
a painful tooth begins to flare
this is not fun, I do declare

what have I done
to earn the right
to twist and turn
in bed at night

but surely this
is not amiss
or so I think
after her kiss

meanwhile
I will sit and write
and on that tooth
try not to bite

10 second poem

what was that?

that was breakfast flying by
on a returning goose

what a weird thought!

Change

Enough of self pity
Enough!

what's left then?

about fifty-three cents

Dealing With It

The train of news
pulls into town
this time letting
everyone down

cries of "what will it be,
and what will become?
our plans are all ruined!"
our ease is undone

"give us this day
our daily bread!"
are more than words
just idly said

my daughter cried
like someone had died
her grief is real
and too new to heal

but evening comes,
and morning too;
putting 'deal with it'
on my list of to-do

Sharp Distance

Through cables of light
your word reaches me
with a point to make

to challenge the distance,
question intention
and inquire sharply

I awake and think
about whether I've made
a real mistake

a genuine fake
would not lie awake
to think of sharp distance

A Fine Man

(in 12/8 time, if you please)

Oh, I want to be a very fine man
an' live in a boat with a hat and a pan

an' when the rain falls, I'll hold the pan up
an' when company calls, use the pan for a cup

(an' nothing to do with the book I'm currently reading - "Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman")

Racing Along

an aside...

Mozart's "Abduction from the Seraglio" includes a chorus by the Janissaries. These guys were typically 'recruited' from captives of the Ottoman empire (starting around 1330 - it's amazing how easily this type of thing can be looked up!) and given a kind of elite training in customs very foreign to the land of their origins. In a way, this created a new race of sorts, which grew to a point of revolting and later, control. And they made a type of marching music.

There's an essay about 'Race and Language' in the Harvard Classics by E. A. Freeman which explores the question of what defines people groups. (A great line from that essay: "We may thus seem to be landed in a howling wilderness of scientific uncertainty")

Just wanted to park this here for reference.

poetic scraps

perceptive perspective
repetitive reception
inimitable intidimation

we don't expect anythingless messages
but sometimes that's all we get

Chocolate Chip

freshly baked and warm
"not for you, leave them alone"
later -- cookie jar!

Click

Seriously now.

Everyday the whiskers grow
and get cut off
rinsed thoughtlessly down the drain

This done with the same care
as picking a shirt with not too many wrinkles
and remembering the belt

The same tired, hurried traffic shuffle
on and in through door upon door
switches flicked by the automaton

I've become.

One Chilly Evening

amid bills. tax forms, and feeble frenchifications
poetic pretension raises its twisted face
and ekes forth a half-sounded note
(it were better to practice with a mute)

personal fog drifts through his words
leaving listeners wondering why
or simply leaving

but still he makes eyes at the stars
not seeing the ditch into which he soon will fall
heedlessly, headlong and hard

this one is so strange
but so are bats echolocating dinner
and deer that run right into oncoming cars

Le Jour Du Poisson

today is April 1st,
April Fool's Day

my son drew a note -
'Kick Me!'
and stuck it on his mother's back

they love each other