Category: Poems

Poem: At the Pig Races

If you were made to run around a wood-chip track, where, at the end, in your barn, a snack reward awaited, would you run faster than you do? Would you pause for a porcine moment to consider to muse: For what am I running to? Or, what am I running from? When you win and have your...

Poem: Henry Done Good

When you can make old men remember childhood  In suburban glades — it’s the trees that do the trick.  What a trick!  The stain of rape, washed away by acres of fruit trees and mown lawns.  Even birds from Central America want to visit, and then stay. For who needs to go  When all is...

Poem: The Tree Regarding Himself

If there is nothing so lovely as a tree, what, in idle moments,  Does a tree gaze upon for pleasure?  The bird, yellow and daft?  The squirrel, dancing from trunk to branch, a ballerina on the bark?   Modesty, Mommy Nature says, is our greatest virtue. Recognize how small and insignificant your roots and branches and...

Poem: On Being a Bolivian Monkey

Rain that slickens the sturdy palm,  fruits that aren’t yet ripe,  Harpy eagles intent on digging talons and razor beak into  simian livers — these are the concerns of a brown capucin, dancing in the canopy, high above the mud of Pachamama, who bequeathed the trees and  everything else  to those who dare to climb ...

Poem: Target

To not be the object of scorn, Ensuring that like the wren flitting from branch to bush one never stays still enough To be hit squarely Where it hurts forever. That, of all things, is the vaunted ideal Professed in halls of academia and glossy sheaves of luridly illustrated imagery. Experience tells us so. But...

Poem: The Unsaid Part

The luxury hotel is dreadful. Of course. Between sips of crisp white wine and sideways glances at the predator who tonight might consume or adopt, the mind dashes madly to that certain thing that always Gets a laugh. Do not show weakness. Do not need anything or anyone — and they will need you and...

Poem: Measuring

A cup of solace, blended nicely with a pint of remorse  Stirred together with a whisk made of weathered telephone poles Like the ones we saw as children, driving across the Great Plains In the back of a too-small car — never wondering if we were there yet because the counting and the waiting and...

Poem: Much Ado

Should the gratuity be fifteen or twenty per cent? And does the fixation on such matters say something Deeply troubling About the man who would care to cogitate The difference in dollars, paper money, symbolic trinkets — when, in a hospital and upon A battlefield, and in a classroom filled with yearning minds, and somewhere...

Poem: The Activist

Reserved for the privileged. Frustrated. Grass roots effort. Personal journey. Workshop. Access to resources. Conscious eating. Nurturing your nature. Community-based. Dialogue. Facilitating. I’m passionate about… This society. Holistic. Our own truth. Left behind. (You know, you know.) Access to information. Access. Healthy joyful life that radiates. Support our local Farmers. Businesses. Reframing. Impact. Wellness. Low...

Poem: Desafinado

Life is a melody played repeatedly By millions and billions of musicians All trying, with various levels of success, to make the song sound right. The normal hallmarks of practice — repetition, interminable repetition — don’t apply here, for there are no second chances, no do-overs at the beginning, no opportunity to return to the...