Monday, January 25, 2010

"Call It-"

Perfectly captured-
Of my soul:

The thoughts and dreams
I suddenly rediscover
Within my heart and mind-
While I am here at rest,
At the end of this winter's day...

Yet I will not quickly arise-
And compose an essay:

It's not negligence...

It's simply that this feeling-
I know,
Is far better in the substance
Of verse,
Than prose:

Call it poetic common sense.

Sunday, January 24, 2010



Astronomer royal-
Who might have read
Keats' "When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be":

A refugee from a trance.


Yet no doubt,
For a poet probably-
As to where eternity might be:

Like an aerialist-
Who has remained
Above the clouds,
And so has not-
Descended into tragedy.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

"Routinely- (Western Diplomat)"


Western diplomat-

Cat in a hat-

Business as usual-

Illustrative of-

Not exactly love:

"Mars Attacks!"

The international community,
And what remains to be seen:


Can you say, "Guerrilla Insurgency"-

Played upon like a laser beam?

For you must realize,
To realize anything at all-

That nothing is as it appears,
Let alone seems...

But ask yourself:

"How can it be any other way?"

What with so much routinely-

Western diplomat stalking-

And the same old
Cat in the hat
Doing all the talking-

Upon the grass they go walking-

(And well, you know, many other things like that....)

"And Eight Is The Number"

To wait patiently
For the opening up
Of a door-

Even though
You may have already
Been through it
Seven times before-

Which would make eight...

And eight is the number
That if toppled onto its side
The symbol for infinity:

God's love...

Without abandonment:

Unlike the skill-
The expertise-

Yet do not call the police...

Because you can count on it,
That it's all just so much arithmetic
With those various forms of government:

Your name and number-

You are a number...

Very peculiar:

The smell of money-

Strange scent!

Yet it has to be used to pay your bills-

Pay your rent- ha!

"Your Vision Projected Wonderfully"

You project your vision wonderfully,
Even if it is totally lacking in what so many
Perceive as the basic concepts of reality-

But I wouldn't let it bother me...

For what is life indeed,
Without some degree of fantasy?

I would myself say,
That's part of its power-

So go on right ahead,
And let it flower-

Gaze upon a moonbeam-
And dream:

Ah, and be just like a child!

Even if only for a little while...

For I do truly believe,
And it's a belief I'll never leave-
That laughter in sheer happiness
Can sometimes begin with no more
Than a little smile:

So let me see you smile- smile.