My mind a cave of favorite characters
And greatest hits
A life time of connections and sidekicks
Frank Zappa plays the soundtrack
In a tumble of tightly compressed acoustic riffs
A genius long gone, but ever present.
When he’s done he says,
In tightly compressed electronic bytes
“May we burn it all down.”
And I wake refreshed
To another day, another dawn.
(9/17/26)
Chi Chi Rodriguez made golf fun to watch
He’d sink a crucial putt
Then throw his hat down over the hole
and do a spirited dance around it
A smile overspread his face
a silent tune flowed through his veins
His dance inspired fans to cast off their inhibitions
and join him in joy unrivaled
Taking a sport of fiercely guarded emotions
blowing it wide-open
laughing in the tense face of tradition
37 Tournaments wins
First Puerto-Rican inducted into Golf’s Hall of Fame
~ put his uptight compadres to shame
Oh man alive, at sixty five
I’ve something to confess:
I never thought I’d find myself
such a befuddled mess.
It started out so innocent
inviting her to lunch;
the convo stayed mostly on track,
but then it swerved a bunch.
See, feeling coy, this stupid boy
thought he’d get cute and flirt.
From winsome one to two left feet,
a face plant in the dirt.
As I hit send, the doubt set in:
were those the proper words?
Whoever thought I’d be like this?
A grown man, how absurd!
The seconds pass like hours
as frets bloom full regret;
she’ll likely think the worst of me,
what do you want to bet?
And so, confused, I sit and stew,
increasingly perplexed.
But wait! I hear a joyful noise:
in came another text!
It doesn’t matter what it says;
she ended with a smile!
Thank goodness, I‘m still in the clear,
‘least for a little while!
Wish you had someone better,
So dreams wouldn't shatter —
Of holding your desired moon,
I hope I leave your life soon.
So when I leave, don't call it loss,
Call it the tide that had to cross —
I hope I leave your life soon,
And you still get to keep the moon.
All the fireflies of the town
Have gathered in front of
The Town Hall.
Being mere sources of light
Not worm
Nor life.
Mere sources of light -
The way sometimes
Humans become
Mere genitals.
I can't look at their light
Are they brighter than the Sun?
I can look straight into
The sun, Day and Night.
Still, I can't look at
The Fireflies
Like the people who
Look at the genitals
Can never look at
The Eyes.
September is busting out all over,
leaves with pretty colors,
fill the cool air.
A new sweater for the cool morning air,
will keep me warm as I pick up pretty leaves over and over.
I love the red and orange colors.
Birds of many colors,
are singing as they are flying through the air,
they keep going to the bird feeder many times over.
September will be over with new colors to fill the winter's air.
There was a time when I truly thought you stole,
everything from me
The intense pain reached deeper than anything imaginable
There were so many losses
There were so many lies
There was so much that I couldn't do anything about,
as you went on and on with hurricanes of manipulation and control
It took a long time to learn that this would never change
It took a long time to learn to find my own peace
It took years to overcome the baragment of guilt you put upon me
But I am here now and I will never go back
I see everything that I have, everything I am grateful for
I didn't need you to do a thing; I did it all myself
9/12/26
Heidi Sands
(C)opyright
It’s All About Perspective
How would you feel,
If you went home today
To find a strange creature
Had entered your cave
While you were away?
You would you feel,
If you looked in your bed
To find sleeping there soundly
A wee human head?
Would you be angry?
Would you see red?
How would you feel,
If some golden-haired brat
Had gobbled your supper
And shattered the chair where you always sat?
What would you do?
How would you handle that?
How would you feel,
If the door to your cave
Had been kicked in by a kid
Who just could not behave?
Would you rumble and roar
Or just rant and rave?
No one would blame you,
If you got really mad
With a dimpled-faced terror who destroyed all that you had.
That’s how many would feel, but
Isn’t it sad
That no one had taught her
How not to be bad?
As this room, Earth life's, dims more
Leaves us, piling up
With too much things boxed, besides
This, junked, abides
In the mind's own storage place.
Old. Wilted, washed out.
Sentiment! Flowery phrased.
Dream world's. Since rased.
The blue waves smack the shore
Outlined by the oaken door.
Stand beside the cypress tree
Throw your arms out to the sea
On a mossy cliffside you can spy
The wheeling curlew, hear it cry.
Smell the cedar in the grove
See grass wave where rover's rove.
Hear the sea gull, feel the wild
White sails on silver, be beguiled.
So far from madness of the city
Cell phone rings, no longer free.
You run inside the cottage door
Find your backpack on the floor
Dig the phone out, as it plays
A ringtone singing "yesterday"
Its Chase bank, with a suspect charge
Ten thousand, that's awful large.
Text message comes from your landlord
Rats with fleas came in a horde
Your boss says he's needs you back soon
Work has come like a monsoon.
You leave the cottage bitterly
But you can't eat the scenery:
Can't throw the cell phone in the sea.
At least you have the memory...
DEEPHEARTED
By Frank Daub
Softly told –
in the manner of a wedding vow –
“I am going home”.
Said in the morning light sitting at my side.
I saw the Bride
that she had been. The GIRL
that willed to give all –
And DID.
I write it now – to help my soul
ACCEPT the fate He sent.
Belief comes now in waiting
And
Holding tight the Sacrament –
of living as He told us
So.
Sojourners all
We must fall
Here today, now
No morrow, how?
We fade away
Slowly, if I may
Out of limelight
Not out of sight
It all falls apart
Ere your body, they cart
To the grave
Home of the brave
Everyone is fond of the summer season
some just can't get enough of that sun
they travel worldwide to gain its rays
but the other seasons are required as one
Now here's a thought to ponder upon
what if summer lasted all year long
just imagine having continuous sunshine
our hearts would be filled with joyful songs
Children would want extra long holidays
even they could have classes held outside
more fun to learn about nature
sometimes summer rain keeps us inside
Now what if summer ended for good
and worst of all, winter lasted the year
nothing but cold, snow and ice
perish the thought, for it fills with fear
The heavy coats and gloves are on
never to take off at any time
well, maybe we'll stick to the four seasons
so ideal really, to keep us in our prime
We were not built to sleep.
Or stay. Or slink in the shadows.
We were forged in the fires of primordial nebulae
To seek, to search, to know.
Born longing, we grow reaching.
First faces, then here, then out there.
As did the ancients, we look to our stars.
Stars of wonder, light, elsewhere.
As centuries pass, so too does the torch.
We stand upon the shoulders of giants.
Still we climb higher, held up by our histories.
To fear, to dark, to standing still; we are defiant.
We ask-
And from neurons that mirror that nebulae,
Knowledge is given.
We seek-
And from the wonder and the beauty,
We do find.
We knock-
On doors from the abyssal sea to the distant stars,
And they open to new horizons.
We are no cosmic accident.
We are stardust.
Longing, reaching, seeking.
Returning to celestial skies.
Faster, higher, stronger, together.
For all humanity,
We rise.
I feel so good.
Finally I live in a world
Where crazy is accepted
As the norm.
A mom who strangles
Her three babies
Likely will walk free
Which means it’s open season
For every psychopath
Who wants to rape and murder
Anyone they please.
After all it’s up to us
To control ourselves
But if and when we can’t,
Oh well.
I feel so good
To finally live in a world
I can relate to.
It’s almost like being free.
(9/2/26)
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