crimping clouds ripple in reflection the day contracts as memories reseed in refection
Innocent life obedient to God
Poise without violence, greed or hate
Or any other sin of fallen man
These remnants from the Garden of Eden
An infinitude of cells covering the Earth
Making food from sunlight and water
Every day that the sun shines silently
Thankful beings open coloured smiles
Just being themselves forever fulfilled.
Talking to the plants and trees
Is like talking to God, to the air
Yet they do not understand nor care
But I receive responses from them
About longevity and strength
Patience and acceptance
Flexibility and abundance
Continuity and cyclic change
Constancy and calm
Solitude and stoicism
And the rewards of care and love.
Gardening is a religious experience
continuity
is synonymous
with what seems
as separation
as conversation
as story
surprise
may seem to
defy continuity
and suggest
its absence
Step outside for a second.
A second goes by the way a second does.
The house behind me.
When you look away from something,
The person comes around.
He changes things.
Eat a sandwich.
Play a game of golf.
Swim in a pool.
The way activities go by.
Seems faster than a scattered thought.
Eat a plate of pasta.
He follows me.
Predict the future.
Then predict another future.
Bouncing a basketball.
Wouldn’t it be funny if I could score?
Again and again.
Wouldn’t it be funny if I could…
Step outside.
Feel around.
The way antennae do.
I’m not a bug, I don’t think.
But I am forgetful.
Step outside.
Remember that you are a bee.
The beehive is far away.
But I will meet him there.
The present requests advice from the past,
because he knows little of the future...
The future asks the present to be born!
But this one still cries
the mourning of the dead past...!
Such pipedream regarding
winning bucket loads of cash,
would make monetary woes
in an instantaneous flash
mine dentures no longer
will futilely grind and gnash,
cuz I would undergo oral surgery
and simultaneously acquire
mush sought after gumption,
where dental implants
could offer million dollar smile
mastication boring full force
while I monstrously, yet easily mash
the most unpalatable pop slop
made with tender loving care
courtesy the missus.
Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors
play key role to alleviate paroxysms
debilitating bouts of anxiety and panic attacks
wracked these lovely bones
during their roaring twenties
severely impinging potential to relish
joys and sorrows present within mein kampf
vast stretches of life sabotaged
courtesy mental health challenges,
thus I acknowledge miracle of modern medicine
particularly prescription medication
(iterated within first line of this verse),
which allows, enables and provides
blessed escape illness noggin tortured.
In that calm before the storm
tranquility’s bittersweet,
though, no two tantrums are alike,
nature self-defends;
Never staid,
she rides her tides hanging ten
and reaps her reward.
The prize is not always golden
but the fight is necessary.
The wandering breeze locates her
opponents and she’ll throw down
the gauntlet;
accepting the challenge,
we weather the storm.
How Audacious, I, to think: “I’ll make a book…”
To think that some will love to read my rhymes.
Approval’s a path I long ago forsook…
But still, I love to share my words, sometimes…
Because I hope the anguish we all feel,
By being read in me, helps some feel heard…
Because Joy is a Leaven in the Meal,
Because I hurt, and cannot heal – absurd?
I lost my wife, and never brought her home,
And I am broken, sundered… my hope is shed,
And so, I write, and hope I’m not alone,
That I can make her Live, still, though she’s dead.
And so, I think I’ll make my book for HER,
And to God’s kind Judgment, I will defer…
NOTHING IS ABSOLUTE, THINK FOR A WHILE
The Beauty of the End, is, It's Beginning!
For Aspen never rise, till fire is still,
And all Endeavors, Loves, and Lives are Ash...
All that is product of the Human Will
Persists, till not a stone's upon a stone,
And every outbreath lifts the dust to motes,
Upon the Light that shows a Pilgrim Alone;
Gone far to see what's left -- dust chokes the throat...
So, Ancient Empires fall, but, 'apres le feu'*
The Aspens grow, and someday, gild the slope.
And Life and Death there dance a 'pas de deux',**
And Life gets the Applause, lets go Death's rope,
Death fades and bows and then... was never there...
And leaves a Scent of Morning on the Air...
*'apres le feu' - after the fire
**'pas de deux' - a duet dance in a ballet
Continuity
Inside the greenhouse
I laid out dead roses
And the smell of spent
nature made it clear
no waste of tears
as the sun bore down
on sterile beds.
Only the beauty of dust
sparkling
in a shaft of light
danced a promise
of continuity.
The men are not made by war,
But our Kingdom is always tore.
Why must we always hate?
Can we not have a different fate?
Revolution of the young,
Will bring about change - sure to come.
O where is the next silver tongue?
When they be found beat the drum-
Philip Sembert II
A bleeding fire drop reflected
framed within the edge of my view
It yearns to change the world subjected
by continuing to sway merrily
through the tender life’s bitter chill
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