though it’s crowding out
the honored pictures
on your mantle,

there is nothing
quite imaginable
that anyone
could ever Tweet
or post
on Facebook,

that even holds
the tiniest candle
to the meekest living, breathing being
or the slightest solid matter
you could meet
the very most imperfect
breath you ever took.

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of sun
in morning,
day one. . .

Invite it in . . .

Breathe the breath
of air
just before your nose–
right now.
Right here.

no matter
you’ve been before,
don’t fret!–
that ancient score–

Those days and hours and moments
are now done.

And, so much more
that’s bright and warm’s in store,
which in your life
will come to land
on any further journey
to new shores–

today’s the very day
that you embark
from your square one.

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Our modern world
is brimming full
of noise. . .

Sometimes you opt
just not to listen to it,
or suddenly find
your senses dulled, diminished
adjusted so to tolerate it,

for everyone,
there is some kind of limit,
even the very toughest boys. . .

unless you up, become a hermit,
there will be times
it drones and hammers on
so loud and long
and infinite,

other than to bristle,
and lose a little
calm and rhythm
you simply haven’t
too much choice,

but do your best to live right in it,
and even as you shrink and cringe,
you still seek the wisdom
in the wonder-rainbow prism
of your brightest, deepest, strongest
inner voice.

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History repeats itself:
the phrase is almost right–

for nothing is identical,
though cycles rule
the realms
of happy order
and of pain and strife. . .

sometimes a circle’s
vicious tendency
makes for vile dependency–
and, at others,
spins our spirits
sparking spirals in ascendancy,
and letting matters settle out
in ways quite worthy of
a gleeful shout,
as is the way
of peace
and life. . .

Much as we strive
to ground ourselves
in sacred rituals,
our toils’ spoils may
shrink to pitiable,
to a puny shape and size
quite vulnerable
to ridicule,

for none of it’s
entirely predictable,
but for the fact of constant change–

if we’re kind of lucky,
day and night. . .

But we of hopes
and dreams and love
that conquer
anger, sadness, fear
must gather often with our peers,

so that
shameful long injustices
dissolve. . .

and a world that’s fair
and beautiful for all
springs from
deep down
where in the ground
lurk hidden seeds quite small,

to start new life
our better angels
can help grow,

so our visions
fruit and flower
easily and gracefully
rooted strong
as we will come to see
as we develop
in our love
and in our deeper sight.

Posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry, Thoughts on Macrobiotics | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment


Pitter patter
sound of rain
that’s come
our so dry land
to water.

Fall begun–
cooler mornings,
lower sun,

living forth
going north
of one eerie
dark blood moon,

the stars
and night
will rule the better part
of our current Universe,

until the dip
when that trend
will do
its annual reverse–

But first
we’ll have to weather
winter soon.

So I wish you all the best,
day or night,
dry or wet,
at no one in particular’s behest,
as with your most blessed life
you do move on.

Posted in Autumn, Medium Length Poems, Seasons, Spring, Winter | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment


It’s Chewsday, Friends!
It’s time to lick those choppers!

Use them
to cut and tear
and mash
your food from crude
to fine,
within your body, now and here,
and coax your mouth to juicy moist,
its liquids happily and tastily
to drench-dissolve your food of choice,

so that
the food and you
do blend,
as that living watery stuff
you smoothly swallow
is slowly sent
both high and low

to deepest gut
and outmost skin,

clear from your face,
soft belly and whole front
through to your upstanding back,
as thoroughly as you could want,

to let your tasting pleasure savor
everything your table
and your life
can put on offer,

so that your spirit fills,
more rich,

and you’ll have more
to share from it
than the biggest miser’s
giant coffers.

Posted in CHEWING, Macrobiotics, Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A PRAYER ON A WING. . . for the sleep-seeking traveler

Now I breathe me down to sleep
I pray the Lord
my soul
and this airplane whole
to keep.

If die here, mid-air,
before I wake,
I pray the Lord
my soul
into Himself
to reincorporate.

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