Love, Hate, Accommodate

i.

Through life have we slept?

So easily kept.

It’s "Hang in, don’t quit,"

When feeling like shit.

ii.

In Being we must,

Invisible trust;

In God, disagree--

The lost family.

iii.

The primary nurture,

The well-plotted future,

Splits open the suture/

Appeases the moocher.

iv.

The complex, the kin,

The chance of "the win,”

The warring, within

With authority/sin.

v.

So subject to flatter,

For why not I matter?!

So easily thrown--

At last on the throne!

vi.

Seduced by the mask,

The spotlight, the bask;

So urgent, the task--

The answer, the ask.

vii.

Where instinct is lack,

The knife turns the back,

The beauty of others,

Asleep, under covers.

viii.

Indulging the dread,

The ‘we’ in my head.

The notion of “right,”

The fight and/or flight.

ix.

If strong is this strong,

Do I still belong?

The more that I calm,

The echo, alarm.

x.

The more that I freak,

The same old antique;

The more that I seek--

The current, the creek.

xi.

The more that I settle,

The lesser the mettle;

The more that I sit,

The cosmotic wit.

xii.

The freedom of “Go,”

The persistent "No,"

The more that I know:

A fox in the snow.

xiii.

The stillness, the norm,

The limited form?

The journey, alone:

The dog and its bone.

xiv.

The shaking of hands,

The whether it lands,

Perhaps we’re all shamans

With too much in common.

xv.

Despite what we know,

And cover, and show;

Despite what we want--

The solace, the font.

xvi.

Despite what we’ve missed,

The unchecked, the list;

Still, somehow, exists--

A rock in the mist.

The Meadow

As Bambi's mother
Led her fawn
Onto the meadow
And was gone,


So I was shown,
And, thus, exposed
To pastures where
Foreboding bodes.


Without the trees
That hide the sun,
The vast expanse
Belied the gun.


For when the shot
Shattered the calm,
The earth became
A maelstrom.


The moment's shock,
The past forgot,
I ran to where
I had been not.


In foreign forests,
Overgrown,
I realized
I was alone.


And in the absence
Of my mother,
The canopy,
My only cover,


The meadow, then,
Proposed a test
Of fortitude
And mindfulness.


While I still graze
Beyond the grove,
The hand recalls
The burning stove.

Goat Busters

         So the Cubs lost.  It has only been a hundred years.   

         To all you haters out there:  keep shootin' moose from a helicopter.

Back In the Land Of

     Obama and the Cubs...

     Lake dip babies

     Ketchup-less Hot Dougs

     Zambrano

     Deep dish skyline

     White boats on green lake

     Buckingham river

     Daley Trees

     White moths West

     LSD Navy Ferris Wheel

     Green Mill Bean Industry

     

     Lighthouse deep house

     Old Style old school

     John Hancock blues

     El Loop

     

The Shame

For Emily Dickinson

When next you feel the shame

Because you lost the game;

An insult to your name,

Rejected from the same--

Recall that you are you

And others, themselves, too;

So best not misconstrue

Conclusions others drew.

Or those that they will draw

For @*$#!--the fatal flaw

Of interest in the jaw,

Incredulous of awe--

Is when the money comes,

And you still feel like crumbs,

And catch the dreaded numbs

And over-favor thumbs.

For fervor favors few;

And when the justice's due

Is when the judgment comes--

"Do you have change for ones?"

Mis Quince Anos!

  

      Es mis Quince Anos!  Y Los Ositos barrieron Los Sux--Que bueno!  

LA

               I used to live in LA.  And I went there for a visit over the weekend.  And a flood of memories returned.  

               I remember the first time I saw palm trees.  And ate a real burrito.  And saw the ocean.  And the mountains and smog.  

              And the new age flyers.  And the muscle beach boys.  And the cabanas; the year-round outdoors.  And the cults and psychics.  The coyotes and brushes.  

               It's nice to know it's all still there.