The To Do LIst

Where did I put it
my to do list
was missing
and here I was
in the middle of the desert
with a ball-point pen
and no paper
but that was the least
of my worries
as I watched the thunderstorm
off in the distance
and only my rucksack
on my back
filled with enough jerky
to hold me over until
I tired of trail mix
and water enough
or so I thought
for the autumn day
was cool with only hints
of what could come
if I continued to hike
beside the ancient dry river bed
in search of petroglyphs
that I imagined
from the distant storm
would hold clues
to a raging muddy river
that took ancient lives
and those that survived
scratched on rocks
of a river that came
without warning but for
a roar that stopped
hearts in their tracks
and in my cargo pants
I searched again
and lo and behold
the to do list
was in hand
as I read the last
of the scribbled lines
and it said
in case of flash flood
disregard
all
of the above.

Bees

Listen
to the buzz
in the breeze
on a warm
summer day
when blossoms
fill the air
with hints
of honey
on winter toast
to come.

Wrestling

Wrestling for me
has always been
a tiring enterprise
the childhood skirmishes
on the front lawn
usually brought on
by perceived slights
the high school match
strength versus strength
is why I found chess
more to my liking
until I met my match
when my mind struggled
until it had no more to give
then I began wrestling
with words
and soon like Jacob
I would awake exhausted
from wrestling with angels
or God?
I still do not know
yet daily I arise
and so far
I do not limp.

Values Are

Values are 
what I think they are 
or let others
tell me 
what they are 
some believe God
planted inside each mind
conscience
the arbitrator of ought and not
while others believe evolution 
created 
by the process of elimination 
when oughts survived 
and nots 
died.

Before Books Became Bricks

They no longer read books
long ago 
they were used as bricks
to build shelters
and some still stand
although the dwellers 
have long disappeared
without a trace
as to who they were
yet the brick ruins
hold inside
the complete history
of all those that lived 
before books 
became 
bricks.

Comb the Web

We
the secret revealers
comb the web
gathering clues
to those long forgotten
that once faced cameras 
recording slices of time 
that once were real 
an old man reciting poetry
to a hidden audience
countless landscapes 
cityscapes
animals 
with all too many
people
frozen in time
silent minds 
with stories
never to be told.

Fair or Not?

And yet
life is so fair
that one 
can imagine 
what truth is
and with imagination 
live life 
from beginning to end
just as the mind
imagined it 
would and should
be.

Summer Winds

Summer winds blow
to caress
young maidens
walking on seashores
as waves
ebb and flow
and sandpipers dance
to the sweep
of white foam
and seagulls cry
in shifting winds
while young men
everywhere
dream of young maidens
with naked toes
on wet sand
dreaming of days
that will
never
end.

The Poet

He was one of those
who squeezed sentences
until all the unneeded words
fell to the ground
and what were left
were carefully arranged
until silent words
spoke up
and sometimes
even
shouted!

Comb the Earth

We
the secret revealers
comb the earth
gathering clues
to long forgotten
brothers and sisters
that placed stones
one atop another
carved trees
into looms
and cared
for sheep
and sheared their wool
and sometimes
bits of woven cloth
found beneath
a charred stone
and once a white
clay pipe
and a button
crafted from
an abalone shell
an arrowhead
of black flint
looked at closely
and imagined hands
chipping away
and minds
with thoughts
never to be found
lost to the winds
the stories
too many to count
and we breathe them
in our imaginations
right now.

Summer Night

Here,
summer in the air
the night
oh so slow
yet moves
with me in tow
together we await
the coming day
outside the window
dried blossoms
silently
preparing seeds
as if
they cared.

One of Us

One of us
the good one
the kind one
the wise one
the one that loved
the one that helped
you and me and those
I don't even know
and he was the one
that we used
to construct
our God
the invisible one
that dwells 
but in our ancient minds
we bring to life
make visible 
the invisible
with the chosen one
our example
of how 
we all should dwell
in a world
without guidance
from
the unknown.

Matters of Matter

Nothing matters
until babies dream
of imagined worlds
that become real
constructed
inside minds
and we live
in two worlds
where everything matters
until the very end
when dreams vanish
into mindless matter
where
nothing matters.

Hungry Eyes

My eyes are hungry
and unlike my tongue
that easily
is overwhelmed
with too much
of a good thing
my eyes delight
in full portions
of beauty
and even then
tire not
but demand
more.

The Dream

In my dream
the stream ran swift
and swirled about rocks
that seemed to stair step 
down the narrow canyon
in near darkness 
the pine and cedar 
towered with blue daubs 
of sky
trout hidden in a deep pool
near a giant boulder
and atop that granite
I was writing a poem
on a scrap of paper 
and the next minute
I adjusted the scope
on my sniper's rifle
while I waited 
for the dark meeting
that was a mission
for good
I was told
yet it remained
frozen in time
as I awoke
on a train
taking me home
in the light
of day.

Soul Man

He searched high and low
looking for his soul
until it dawned on him
that his very thoughts
those ghosts inside his head
invisible and immaterial
alive for but a flash
always right now
never before
never after
yet some saved
in memory
most vanishing
into darkness
were his soul
and without memory
even he too
would never
know.

The Cycles of Life

It was another of those cycles
at the bottom
the fever doing a number
on the inner monologue
with himself he fretted
wild thoughts
but since childhood
it was always the same
just wait
time will bring the cycle
around and like
a slow motion movie
things would improve
and the hope of normalcy
would in fact be within reach
and more time
as feverish thoughts
faded into the unknown
simply things
like a glass of cold orange juice
or the warm breeze through
the open window
just confirmed
that hope was
still alive.

Time and Place

For years I was lost
in thought about everything
until I found a wooden ruler
in the back of my desk drawer
that I used to measure space
to such a degree that
on graph paper
I could map my entire life
with the help
of time
yet couldn't find
exactly where I was at
until I broke the wooden ruler
and used words
written on the back
of that graph paper
to describe how I felt
during numerous moments
in time
and I found each moment
had a place
that I soon discovered
was much more interesting
than those places
on the other side
of that piece
of graph paper.

He Tried to Imagine

He tried to imagine
how far away were those stars
that forever twinkled overhead
since he remembered
a late night camping trip
a child before a camp fire
mesmerized by dancing flames
and glowing cinders swirling
to the late night sky
and stars overhead
more than he could ever imagine
but now imagining not
they were real
and forever more
in their rightful places
always right there
following him
through the ages
until at the other end
the old man
no longer imagined
what he knew
was really
real.

Rigged From the Beginning

The universe was rigged
from the beginning
with all its just so
and filled with just enough
so that one by one
everything fits
or doesn't fit
but when together
things happen
big things
cooking inside stars
with the beginnings
of you and I
with right-now
thoughts
the result
of everything
fit together
since the beginning
just so
you and I
are filled
with wonder
before
our very eyes.