World on Fire

World on Fire

 

Several states in USA

Bear fire uncontrolled;

 

Persons have died—

Rampant destruction

Unrolls.

 

UN and news services

Cite the number at

Sixty-five million who

Are refugees, another

Moving blaze.

 

Venezuelans break

Into stores for food—

Don’t tell me poverty

 

And want do not burn,

For they are always

Afire.

 

Politics burns as well,

Violence in discourse:

 

No civility here, thank

You—we’d rather talk

Through bared teeth;

 

Unseasoned anger is

A flame as well.

 

In extinguishing the

Fires, cooling help that

Even overwhelms

Then washes is virally

Needed to calm soon-

to-be charred, hollow

Hearts:

 

Water of

 

Hope, strength for the

Mind with all our literal

Muscle that can

 

Rescue a planet and keep

It safe, even joyful in a

Future (how about later

Today?)

 

Dewy and thankfully

Damp day.

modest gathering

modest gathering

 

Here is some verse I’d like to share.  First a few haiku, inspired by the natural world.  Then a poem about pie.

 

(1)

Over northern sky

Aurora Borealis

Amazes our world

 

(2)

Over southern sky

The Aurora Australis

This locus astounds

 

(3)

Horses are aware;

They don’t care who wins because

Horses want to run

 

(4)

Horses who stand still

Are wiser than we, for they

Know quiet learning

 

Pie Outside Can’t Hide

 

Crimp pie crust

Not too hard, ‘cause

Dust to dust

 

Enjoy the crimp

With elf and imp

 

Like will-o-the-wisp

When fall is crisp

We bake our wares

To cool on stairs

 

Steam sprite-rises

No surprises

Wafting dessert:

Magic food alert!

 

(Gradmama the other day used a couple of words I like, so I added them in here.  Kind of like trying new ingredients in a pie.

https://mumbletymuse.com/)

Life Goes On

Life Goes On

 

The name of a television

Show, I think,

As well as an old saying

 

And it does—

Life does go on, that is

 

Like one, unending sentence

Written and read

Throughout the years

 

An Edgar Poe-like sentence;

He could write a sentence

That would take up a page

And be no less fascinating

 

For the length and, what

Turned out, the breadth

 

A single-sentence life,

Broken up with punctuation

 

A question mark when

There is doubt, an

Exclamation point when

And where

Something needs affirming

 

Say, a celebration

 

A period when things must

Stop for a while, tragedy

Or wonder of accomplishment

 

Today is a comma

A pause

Red Sky at Night

Red Sky at Night

 

Retiring into the deep

Colors of the day

 

We come to the end

When light must give

Way to night

 

We sigh and with

Misty breath, exhale

 

Into the coming dark

 

No more arguments

To make against the

Day

 

Maybe a farmer’s

Understanding, for

There are evening

Laborers

 

Whose cycle will

Reverse the colors

 

Sorry, perhaps, for

Those who cannot

Read the final

Message in the dusk

Of dying day

 

Well, look to new hues

In the tellings that

Arrive, whenever

 

Daytime and

Nighttime meet, alive

Quiet

Quiet

 

Moment is quiet

Inside everything

I am thankful

 

For those who

Have no sanctuary

In time or mind

 

I’m sorry

I wish for better

(I’m Irish—wishes work)

 

A moment to breathe

Without impeding

Mortal noise:

 

Wish for rest

A pause for

Absolute or take mitigated

 

Quiet

Penultimate

Penultimate

 

Where do we go from here?

Life on Earth diminishes

 

Human life, animal species

Extinct, genii of plants within

Which might have served

Chemistry for fixing disease

 

We look for life out there

And why not: that’s what’s

Next

 

But for today, while we’re

Still here,

 

Build a world that someone

Else might want to visit, work

With us, share

Means and Extremes

Means and Extremes

 

Today I feel sliced

Crossed factors no longer

Adding up

 

My friend, my counselor

Is gone

A singer is gone

A songbird wayward on its

Path

 

And fifty and fifty more

Are dead and wounded

In one place

 

Forty more in Bangladesh

Killed by the kind that

Above turned ill

 

Who took our celebrations?

 

Thirty years ago

My mother died today

No wonder, then, with

 

All that’s now divided

I cannot find my way

 

A time to dance

A time to mourn

A time to play

A time to play like children

A time to play music

Like children

Simply with easy

Spirit-suffusion

 

Solomon sings true

For us

When we lose our beloveds

 

A time to pray

A time to cry

A time to take what we have

With what we know

To open onto the good path

Another way

 

To take down barriers

To walk together

Lifting those who can’t

 

To multiply our source

And have it all, recourse

Losses

Losses

 

What are we doing

 

Shootings in a night club

In Orlando

A home of amusement

Parks that invite many

To play-worlds

 

What kind of patterned,

Surrender of sanity

Are we about, call it

Terror or derangement

Or “just a family thing”

 

A singer shot

The other night

In the Florida

City, too

She might have

Been smiling

As a blessing,

Flush from

Performing,

Just before

 

We lose and lose

Blood and life and ground

The earth of reason

Climbs away, above a

Plain of misery

 

I watch and read the

News in my small

Region

 

Where grown-ups

Are shot and children

Are abused, as if

By grinning devils or

Their supplicants

 

The Eumenides must weep

They do not demand

Or negate choice—they

Simply weave our

Threads of fate from

 

Which we have co-opted

Furies-cutting

 

We do these things,

And is there such disparity:

 

A world of who-has

Living behind a barrier

Of wealth and fantasy

And hired protection

(So to say)

 

Until distance is broken

Through

 

Fear, isolated penury,

And vacuum-thinking

Shooting, burning through

 

Shattering separation

In a final, violating way

 

Until from lives

Destroyed, death layers

Everyone on a field

Of weeds

 

Weeds for mundane death,

For funeral-attending

 

We are all equal now

Loss

Loss

(for my friend Sanford)

 

Love pitches

And slides down

No purchase for a hold

All last moments gone

 

You

Are friend sitting beside

Me, sometimes

Walking with me here

And there

 

You moved so slowly

Through the world

So that love might

Permeate, a message

In itself

 

Go slowly, the Buddhists

Say—you taught me

That

 

A righteous challenge

For those who move

Too fast, a badge

A sign that virtue

Is in rapidity alone

 

Rather what we do

While on the way

Is what makes the

Difference

 

And the love we leave

While on our way

 

Where you are

Is good, is right

Is healing, and is

Love—

 

You loved us here

Thank you for that

I cannot say good-bye