Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Zoom, zoom, zoom

Zoomed in I see craters of sadness, fissures of delight, caverns of deceit, canyons of truth

Zoomed out I see galaxies of opportunity, constellations of fear, universes of wisdom, systems of ignorance 

It's all there 
I'm all here

Zoom, zoom, zoom

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Christmas Inn - Vermont


Christmas Inn - Vermont

Tennessee was grating
Really, it wasn’t good
I won’t be relating
But I was in a mood

The means were there
So here we are
Snow in the air
Gifts in the car

The Inn is remote
By a peaceful lake
The décor will denote
Nothing here is fake

Out of office reply
Christmas Inn - Vermont

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Uncle Jim Looked Like a '49 Ford


Uncle Jim looked like a ‘49 Ford
Spoke a southern drawl
Kept his yellowed fingers busy
Rolling cigarettes
Slowed his worried mind
With Pabst Blue Ribbon
Said he was nineteen
At seventeen and joined the marines
Gained medical release
Down in his back
Took a hitchhiked car
With the man’s pistol
Spent time in a North Carolina prison
Lost half an ear
In a pickup wreck
Withstood gospel peddlers
Laughed at heaven and hell
Swapped women like shirts
Made the roundest ball
You ever saw on an arm

One sunny southern day
He said
It’s too hot
To go in swimming
So I swung on his muscle
Granny played
On top of ole smokey
Mama cut watermelon
And that night
We all put
Ketchup in our oyster stew

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Let's play: find the easier question


What is the meaning of life?
What meaning of life can I most readily comprehend?

How should I live my life?
What do I enjoy doing?

How did the universe come to be?
Which universe-origin story do I prefer?

What happens to people when they die?
What do I want to happen to people when they die?

Does God exist?
Would it be best if God existed?

What is right?
What is?

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Peace Be Still


I think I’ll be a soldier
Fighting marauders
After my booty
Slogging tundra
Braving desert
Knocking on heaven’s door
Drawing my blade
At any provocation
Until you appear and say
Peace be still

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Old Friend? meh

See if this holds for you

When I feel good about me
And then I think of a long lost friend 
I wish s/he were here and we could talk into the night
But when I feel bad about me
And then I think of an old friend 
I'm like, meh

Friday, September 27, 2013

The Book of Revelations


On rainy days he’s reminded of the weather beaten front of his wooden house
The crown over the windows cracked, twisted forward and down
Threatening to fall off on one side
At the bottom of the doorframe the paint is flaking off
The wood split and curling up
His thoughts run to what the neighbors might think
That he bought a house and could not afford to keep it up?

Soon enough the entire house would need painting
The gray siding and pink shutters faded 
Driving into the cove people might see the siding joints 
With a fresh coat of paint, he could make this go away
But he fancied himself a poet and poet's houses tend to deteriorate over time
Unless the poet was Robert Frost or maybe Wallace Stevens.

Poetry stops with words for some people
And he was one of those  
For others, beneath oddly-arranged associations
Were schema for cabinets, templates for household repair
Patterns for decorative arrangements
When people read his words was it like driving by a rundown house? 
Did they cringe at the damage done by the wind and rain?

Houses stand as testaments to those inside
In disrepair, it’s the book of Revelations
Driving through the neighborhood it’s plain
No other house has sunk so low 
A pocket of money should be thrown at the insult
And the house restored, reclaimed, to its once proud state.
           
Inside the walls lives a family with hopes and dreams
Spitting in the sinks, sinking into bubbly baths
Lounging on sitting chairs
Snug with the note paid each month
And the promise of future months taken care of 
Lowering themselves onto soft sofas
Singing sweet songs of solitude - little family hanging in there 
Little family expecting more, but settling for just this much.

Come back another day salespeople
Those of you who call on the phone
For while this era may be one of desire
It is not for material things you’re dealing 
No, the paintings are on the walls
The rooms furnished well enough
The family is busy and will take a number of rain checks
On attending to the drip of time

He knows his poetry and the house stand for something
But he’s not sure what
He’s inspired by the days and wrapped up in the nights
Downstairs, beneath the family room
He lies beside his wife and they sleep knowing
Soon enough something will literally fall off the house
Or it will be swallowed by a sink hole
After all, there are cracks in the ceiling and walls
And why does the master bedroom door only shut in summer?
           
This house is moody - subject to age and decay
A brick and mortar one would have been better
But this deal could not be thrown away for another 
Anyway, there is nothing wrong with the house
So it requires upkeep and a little money here and there
Can the same not be said for those living inside?

He knows his fear is not the decay of the house but his own
And he wonders why it’s difficult to transform a head of ideas
From a misty state to one of pouring rain
But he tells himself if he can keep the house up another line or two
He may write enough to pay for a brand new house
One that will last forever.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

I've figured out life


Finally, I’ve figured out life
It is me here
A blank page
And thoughts of you
Or is it me
A full page
Of blank thoughts?

Anyway, I’ve done it
I’ve figured out life
So I will gather laurels
And take my rest

Hoo-ah


Every third Christmas
For three consecutive
The factory of my parents
Produced early-fall loin fruit
All alive today
With offspring
Populated
Populating
Populatable
Hoo ah

Monday, September 2, 2013

Labor Day 2013 Haiku

Grow up bitter poor 
Love a few people for life
Die in sweet riches

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Shout Out

This shout is out
To the patient
The compromisers
The persevering
Facers of odds
The uncomplaining
Good-soldier type

Tomorrow I might
Holla at you others

Don't pitch a fit

Today it's props
To my suck-it-up homies

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Free-verse Sonnet: Hero Story

Like the stranger
I feel no loss
Nor real gain
I find I'm here
That's all
Does that ring a bell?

I watch the papers
What's left of them
And it should be said
The news trickles 
How're you?
Is everything well?

I'm no hero in any story
But I'm working on yours

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Where He's Been

Do you ever see people
And wonder where they've been
What they've seen?
I assigned myself a case

We'll come back to where he's been
But for now let's think of him here
Without others who could join him
Who have loved him
Have taught him
Buoyed him up somehow
He'd be surrounded by blackberries
Waving curtains
Nasal speaking voices
The smell of pine sol

But this is he on he
Unless, of course
She wanted to suddenly appear
No longer afraid of being her mother
Or losing her father
Or whatever that was

No, he's here at the beach
Looking at the ocean
And people he doesn't know
Passing without a glance
As if they fathom
He is to be left alone
That he has been in exile

I know, I should have
Introduced myself

Monday, August 5, 2013

Awesome God

Most of the people I know
Serve an awesome God:
Mindless entertainment

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Oh Raymond Carver


Oh Raymond Carver

You and your divorces
And recovering alcoholics

Always calling the sheriff

Someone dying in a car
A car that keeps going
Through a building

Taking a few months
To see if things can be worked out

Horses heads in the fog outside

Children caught in the middle

Oh Raymond Carver

Saturday, August 3, 2013

Hamer on the Web


Lloyd Hamer on the Web
Up at the crack of dawn and down to the office to surf
the internet for hours without end.  
Jesus may come today, says one
particularly memorable page.
He will come back for us
and take us to his big home page in the sky
The page offers a bit of insight
into Jesus' thoughts as he hung between two thieves.
The dramatic scene is animated right before your eyes
as the Lord and Savior writhes in pain
and has his now historic conversation
with the thief on the right.
"This day thou shalt be with me in Paradise",
says Jesus in his best Marlon Brando voice.
It was the twenty first century,
Beginning badly as it did
Lloyd Hamer was born after bitnet became
The internet in the eighties
technology was on the throne,
Jesus worked now only behind the scenes
Lloyd’s little northern family was just hoping
to be able to keep up with it all,
no delusions that it was going to perfect their lives
or replace their faith in the New Testament.
Lloyd Hamer was so named
because his parents had an ironic sense of things
and they liked the way it rhymed
with the country pianist’s name, Floyd Cramer.
They had no way of knowing their son
would become a famous pianist himself
and that he would travel the world,
playing before auditoriums filled with loyal fans,
who yelled for more when he was done.
His style a blend of Joplin (Scott),
John (Elton), and Lewis (Jerry Lee).
Sometimes the music would get so tasty
he would begin to sing lyrics made up a few days before,
and the audience would turn delirious.
The music was rapturously pastoral and American.
Reminiscent of riding across the heartland
on a trainful of boozers and gamblers
who alternated between celebrating
the birth of the savior and mourning the death of a president,
That would be as close as you might come
to the level of emotion without actually being there.
If you walked in during the middle of a set,
you might not understand immediately
the raucous reaction of the audience,
but once you had been there a few minutes,
your synapses, dendrites, axons, and so on
would begin to groove to the melodies and
there was no siren on earth that could draw you away.
Lloyd’s concerts were sent in streaming
Video to local computers…
Lloyd was not a tall man, in fact
he was only 5 feet 8 in his street shoes,
but he could make a grand piano live up to its name,
with his own compositions, or sometimes
renditions of the works of others.
Meanwhile back home in Duluth, Minnesota,
George and Ethel Hamer would wait in the snow
for another recording he had released and
his visits which came less frequently
as the years went by.
Emails, clips and video calls
They did not know it, but they were destined
to live well into the twenty first century
and they were going to see some things
that the loving parents of a musical genius
should never be forced to go through.
The country they loved and the one he traveled
were worlds apart.
In the world they had known,
you should be sincere and not sarcastic,
successful and not stressed out,
and if worldly, not folorn.
But back then they had not had their MTV.
Lloyd's first video included a couple patterned after them,
almost to the point of the old lady and man
in front of the barn with the pitch fork,
but not quite.
Most of it was shot in Georgia,
a state where they had never been,
and had no desire to be.
The state where Roosevelt had died
and a few other things had happened,
like Jimmy Carter.
They lived vicariously and electronically through Lloyd,
although as he began to stay away,
call less often and write almost never,
they talked about the weather,
about the Twins, the Timberwolves and the Vikings.
You should sit down for a few minutes
with them sometimes
and say the name Lloyd
and watch their faces light up.
“Lloyd lives in a different world”
They like to say

Sunday, July 28, 2013

4 pm phone call


She asked him to watch her purse
Went to the bathroom
And did not return right away

He sent a lady to check on her
He said her name was Evelyn
The lady returned and said
Evelyn was sobbing

George left a tip and walked out
Into the high desert sun
He carried a Belk sack
They had been shopping

He repeated the words
Screw her under his breath
As he walked to the valet station

He had seen through her
She was going to break up with him
That was why she wanted to have lunch
But she had lost her nerve

His car was brought around
He smelled rubber
The young man had loved the Lotus
He did not tip him
But he did not scold him either
No more confrontations right now

George made the tires sing himself
As he left the parking lot
He weaved through traffic
And out to the freeway

He was halfway to Vegas
Driving at over 100 mph
Before he called her apartment

He wanted to leave a message
Rita her roommate
Was the voice on the machine

This message is for Evelyn
I know why you went to the bathroom
I am ready for whatever you say
I am a big boy, you know

Don’t treat me with gloves
Break it to me straight
I’m heading to Vegas
I’ll call at exactly 4 tomorrow
If you want to talk
Be at home then
And I’ll hear you out

He laid down the phone
And floored it again
His speed rose to 180

Damn women anyway
Why were they necessary?
He drove at top speed
The remaining 65 miles

His vigilance at staying on the road
Kept him from thinking of her
He had selected Leonard Cohen
From his playlist
And turned it up loud
But Cohen’s attempt at depth
Began to wear thin
So he had turned it off
And listened to the
Throaty engine

In the Four Seasons
He took a long shower
And saw himself in the mirror
As he came out of the steam
Big bags under his eyes
Blue pockets of unrest

The TV was on 54
When he turned it on
Before he could change it
Some evangelist shouted
God wants you to be happy!
You never knew
What might be on the TV

Down he went
In the channels
Nothing caught his eye
The Dodgers and Giants
Sunday night game
John Miller speculating

How many current Yankees
Would make the Hall of Fame
Joe Morgan concluded none would
Forget baseball

What about E channel?
Nothing but Sex on Sunset Strip
Not too exciting
Since the strip was just down below him
He picked up the phone
And asked for shows and times
In his hotel

Then he made up his mind
At four p.m. tomorrow
He would be
On a plane
Or a boat
But he would not be
On the phone

Monday, July 15, 2013

Two Cool Jerks and a Health Nut Walk Into a Hospital


Try to stop me if you don’t want to hear this one

Two cool jerks and a health nut walk into a hospital
One of the cool jerks says to the others
Can you believe the size of this place?

Yes I can, says the health nut
Given the poor diet most people eat
I wonder that it’s not even bigger

So, says one of the cool jerks
You will never get sick, right?

The health nut replied:
I did not say that, I said…

But the second cool jerk interrupted

No, you were saying people get sick
Because they do not eat properly
You eat properly, therefore
You will not get sick

Okay, said the health nut
Yes, I probably will not get sick as often

Well, said one of the cool jerks
When I am admitted to this hospital
I want to be sick
I don’t ever want to be lying in one of these things
Dying of nothing.

Ha Ha Ha, said the other cool jerk.

The health nut shook his head.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

The Dr. Together



We went to the Dr. together
Not one supporting the other
Both being seen
Technically my appointment
Was a half hour before yours
But they called our names
Paul and Tang-a
Incorrectly
You mumbled, they’re not here
Who wants to be weighed first?
I did, warning her
My clothes weigh five pounds
I registered 145
I whisper to you
I warned her
We walk by the height
Ruler
And as we are seated
I say, I guess you are assuming
Our heights have not changed
Instead of saying yes,
She said something I’ve forgotten
She read from her computer
Our numbers from before
From January for you
From September for me
Your glucose was one number better
Than mine, but you are medicated
She took your BP and it was low
Lower than mine
She wanted to know
If you usually ran low
You said no
And that you had been getting dizzy
Not something you had told me
My pulse was 48
She wanted to know
If my rate was usually low
I said I run marathons and stuff
You grimaced at that
Pretending to care if I saw you
Your pulse was almost as slow as mine
You whispered something like
I run too
She said she could use the old numbers
But the NP said no, she needed blood
I was glad to show off my veins
You began to worry
They needed blood for my prostate
She joked you had no prostate
You said something like,
It’s a well-kept secret
I suggested they might do you first
And let you get to work
She wanted to know if we
Needed notes to take to our boss
I said, no I don’t work until…
You interrupted and mumbled
He does not work
And I said until tonight
I was going to say until my
Class tonight
But I gave up
She drew mine first
No problem
And then I told her you
Had almost cried before
When they gouged you in vain
As she felt your arm
I leaned against the wall
And turned my head
She got it on the first try
I thought you might pull it out
From joy
She measured our waists
Gave me a script for Mobic
Gave you a reduced BP med
Because of your secret
Dizzy spells
She went to ask the Dr.
What to do
And came back and said
The Dr. said hi
You said, tell her
We said hi, too.
They decided to send me to PT
For my back pain
You got reduced meds
We checked out
You getting your six-month
Appointment
Out in the hot morning sun
We told one another to drive
Carefully
And we went our separate ways
Me to Walmart
You to work
Can you believe it?
We went to the Dr.
Together

Monday, April 1, 2013

It's hard to gesticulate

I jerked my head
To tell you which way to go
And when you mocked me
I barked:
It’s hard to gesticulate
With your hands full

Laughing Uncontrollably


She almost hit me with the bathroom door
And you could not stop laughing
We giggled too
Watching you keep going
Your face turning red
You not trying to stop
The way you usually would
Me knowing behind your laugh
Was a force she and I could not know
Perhaps something to do with me
An explosion I had caused
From times I had been unkind
Or days you had wanted to laugh
But had to hobble around the library
Getting people off porn sites
Or making ID pictures
Of people with funny names
Things laughing at
Would be frowned on
It’s me and you still
And her
The three of us
Full of reasons to love
Wanting so much
To say how we feel
Unable to control laughter
Any more than we can
The tears

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Radio Silence

As far as I know
There are three kinds of silence
Complete
Total
And
Radio
With complete and total silence
You do not hear anything
With radio silence
You wish you had never heard anything

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

The last thing I wanted to say


The first thing I want to say
-After a close encounter
With a dark-hued tomb-
Has its own joy de vie
Its Joy de le veda
And it comes out thus
-Emerging from the labyrinth
Of my fear-
“I can make it on my own”
You surely know though
That is in fact
The last thing I wanted to say