I’m growing a beard again
I used to have a beard
When it was fashionable
In the sixties
But the beard went,
leaving only my mustache
when I went back to work
Yesterday my wife asked me
to grow my beard again
After 30 years
I was astonished
Seems that when I shave
I miss spots here and there
I just don’t see well
Or care enough
But Nancy does
And she has her solution.
I like it
It was cold this morning
I wore a jacket as I walked the dog
And it’s May,…May!
I thought about going back
retracing my steps,
For an even warmer coat
But I knew I would
end up staying comfortably at home
With an uncomfortable pup
So I kept on wearing
my not-warn enough jacket
and I walked faster
Hurrying the dog,
Which he liked
He paused at one of his trees
Finding the best circle
To position has leg just right
And the woman in the house
Yelled at me to have him pee at home.
I don’t know the rules of pee etiquette
But I felt aggrieved
And still do. Suddenly reduced
From seventy-two to twelve
I pass her house every day
And the conversation replays
Whether I cross the street
Or still use “her” tree
It’s been so long
Life assumes a certain rhythm–
Get used to it this way now
With only sometimes left
of yesterdays…
What do we know of new rhythms;
There are only rhythms
When things disappear
were they ever present?
I stayed up all night
waiting for tomorrow
watching the world change
I saw the tears in Jessie Jackson’s eyes
and MLK’s youngest daughter
as mine dimmed too;
dimmed with the flash of new sun;
The news was grasping to
interpret
a shift too large for them;
their hearts were touched
and they are trained to
resist touching
Tomorrow is here
and we will make the
Great Turning
Man Plans
And God laughs
of course
But after rain, the sun does shine
though all our uniqueness
fits nicely
into God’s daily cycles
and periodicity
unrecognized in its attributed individuality
We take the laws of nature
very personally
Confusion
The clime is in the 80s
The children horde the machine
The car isn’t here
Yet the breeze heals, the future
Heals
I don’t resist; I do complain
To complain brings pain;
The sky is clear; I read in the sun
Warmth heals; there’s nowhere to go
A spider seems to dangle from its web
Why do spiders frighten children?
Who knows? They do.
I just appreciate it all;
I must
It’s part of the tapestry,
Though not so arty;
Part of the patchwork quilt
I call today
I muse.
I amuse
Stan a Musial
Not usual
Nothing is everything;
everything is nothing
I am everywhere
and nowhere
So are you
And knowing that
is no-ing that
Godel’s theorem is
that it contradicts itself
so bet; don’t fret
Is it?
How do we know?
I know so nothing
facts slip thorugh my fingers
I need to learnd new ones,
replacement facts,
new theories
fresh opinions
The world changes repeatedly -
every day; more often than that
I really hate having to die
to find out
and even then, what good will knowing be
How do the stories end?
and what ending will be remembered,
will be recorded
in me
Paying Attention
Thinking of nothing
is thinking of everything
bringing in the universe
meditating;
sitting quietly
and simply breathing
seeing yesterday
and putting it aside
dreams of tomorrow
put aside, put aside
put it all aside
Loving you
in all your ways
and putting you aside
abiding in nothing
in a breath,
in the aum of life
in the arms
of all of it
Do We Know Anything?
Do we know anything?
Not even the air we breathe,
The clouds
This thing called wind
The people we be with
The ones we say we love;
The ones we don’t;
The ones we say we miss;
The ones we don’t
Certainly not these things called facts;
These bigger things
called truth.
Perhaps we only know that laughter is,
what tears are;
that an orgasm may occur
and illness and death,
but do we know what illness is.
Or death?
But do we know anything?
We feel; we think we think
the children say, “why?”
and we spend our lives
answering why
and we say we know,
we have these things
called answers
But do we really know anything?
anything at all?
Do we yet know why?
