Linguistic Anarchy

 Linguistic Anarchy

when you’re down and troubled

mischievous words elevate 

your spirit

perform random acts of 

poetic graffiti

© 2024

The Last Shall Be First

amundsen 

was the last man

to be the first

to reach the south pole

the moment

i begin to share

a beautiful dream,

it is over.

armstrong

was the last man

to be the first

to walk on the moon

is it an impossibility 

to share a dream

without ending it?

Wrong Direction

as he peers looking with all his might

something unfamiliar appears.

something beautiful, something exciting,

something new

amazed at the wonder of unexpected change,

he realizes the power

of occasionally gazing with all his might

in another direction.

Temporal Three a.m. Thoughts

 

at the 180th meridian 

the international date line, 

an imaginary line

divides yesterday from tomorrow.

walking east,

i lean into the future,

heading west,

i recede into history.

only when

i straddle the line

am i grounded

in the imaginary present

btw 

Fiji is the only place in the world

where one can walk

across the international date line

without snowshoes 

Just Live It!

meager life:

sitting in boardrooms,

occupying living rooms,

sleeping in classrooms,

next best thing to premature burial 

prosperous life:

trudging up mountains,

slogging through swamps,

rowing river rapids,

digging, planting, napping in the shade.

Sooner Or Later

life is short. time is fleeting. don't wait.

love here. love now.

later may come 

(if it is meant to be).

Heaven’s Crying

lightning flashes

zig-zagging across pastel sky

crashes of thunder

rain pouring in great cleansing splashes

natures teardrops beating against window panes 

like heart beating against rib cage

like giant snowbird floating against clouded sky 

like broken love pouring from saddened eyes 

Good News

the good news

is your daughters recital

your sons hugs

blooming sunflowers

your mothers recipes

your fathers poetry

chocolate ice cream 

your brothers jokes

your sisters laughter

a foot massage 

neighbors paintings

sounds of music

purring kittens

the good news

is there waiting

disconnect the internet 

turn off the tv

trash your cellphone

then step outside 

feel the sun

taste the breeze

pay attention

be thankful

for the good news

Drop In Turn Off Tune Out (or, why i don’t always answer my phone)

each time i pick up the phone,

or the tablet,

or sit in front of the television,

my body responds,

briefly triggering

fight or flight hormones.

in itself not concerning,

but multiplied throughout the day

or a lifetime, significant 

going for a walk

or digging in the garden 

has the opposite effect.

so, for my own well being

i’m putting down the digital pacifier

to go watch the sunset.

will you join me?

Mixed Feelings

 don't get me wrong,

i still celebrate my dad

his wisdom, his hard work,

the hours he spent

teaching me to play ball,

to defend myself, to forgive.

but

father’s day

is a sad day for me

remembering good times

seeing the joy in his eye when Joe could

swim and ride a bike for the first time,

camping trips,

bedtime stories, holidays,

his sense of humor.

for nineteen years,

father’s day was a celebration of 

being ‘Joe’s Dad’.

(really, a celebration of my son)

for twelve years,

father’s day has been

a somber reminder of his absence. 

how many years will it take

to learn to celebrate father’s day

without Joe?

© 2024

April Thirtieth

 April Thirtieth

last day

of the month of poetry.

is it time for rhymes?

oh hell no!

rhyme is the crutch

that doesn’t mean much.

rhyme is metaphor 

for those who keep score.

never! more!

never more! nevermore!

forget the rhyme, take the time.

don’t be slime.

put the lime in a coconut,

shake it all up!

save rhymes for a different way,

for another day.

alliterate

don’t commiserate. 

linguistically leverage language 

let’s linger lovingly

today jump into the fray!

sashay away.

a rhyme in time…nevermore!

shake it all up!

last day

of the month of poetry.

don’t be lazy,

be crazy!

is it time for rhymes?

oh hell no!

© 2024