let's go this way

let's go this way

the slow way

the way where cars stop to admire

nature, an elk, a wildflower, 

the view.

oh, the view this way is so much

better when we get out of our 

metal box and breathe in the 

mountain air,

where time stops and clouds

hover above us, spitting cold rain

to wake us up to this world,

this most precious world.

let's go this way,

let's miss the traffic on the

highway, let's wind up in the

mountains, let's be thankful we

came this way,

not that way.

in response to Steve's generous comment

I'm not
sure they're getting better.
I still see red down in their throats and
they still cough up phlegm and
sound raspy and hoarse.
these poems are never smooth like the
ones you read in fancy magazines, with
their flights to places unknown but
you know you're supposed to find them
sophisticated and just really good.
I don't read them.
Even if I don't know if these
are getting any better, they lie in their mud
unapologetically and call out what they view
as the truth as experienced by
this particular writer,
with no apologies,
no audiences,
just the hum of a fan
on a hot summer night.

Relax

Relax
he was just kidding when  he emailed
that I surprised him with my negativity,
so like my daughter who equates
realism with negativity.
I call it the way I see it is all.
time is too short to pretend that
it's alright when it's not
no one wants to write it down
because it's a commitment.
I might go back to Utica after all,
flying all day to wrestle with vacuum
systems and eat breakfast in cardboard
bowls.
I can relax on the plane.

out in the forest on our morning walk

he was out strolling as were we

on this lovely summer morning, 

stopping for a moment

to graze on succulent grasses,

then moving on

so gracefully

I watched, rapt, at the shimmer of

his muscles, the elegant rack of antlers,

straining to hear him move

hearing nothing

while Bella wandered nearby,

her nose deep in exploration,

the endless search for the dead or

dying, as if she had no eyes

to see.

dull knives

all her knives were dull so
she brought them to my house to be sharpened
this is what daughters do.
we teach them to prepare pie dough
using miniature rolling pins,
to carefully crack an egg into a
mixing bowl.
her knives were dull so she came home
to drink a glass of wine with me and eat
what I had cooked for her
(my beloved daughter)
served in a chipped bowl filled
with memories of brownies and
chocolate chip cookies.
she will treasure this bowl
 when I am
gone.

the power of not listening

the tone of voice
told the truth even if the words did not
he wasn't listening
she was not hearing the cry,
the anguish, the joy,
he was not hearing the frustration,
the loneliness
their minds were elsewhere
even as their hearts beat in their chest
he carried a gun with a silencer in his heart
to deaden his words
and she, a dagger in her pocket
to sharpen her voice
and this
this is the power of not
listening, a dagger in his heart
a gun in her pocket.

no no no no no no no no.....

no

please not again

marine le pen

donald trump

the Austrians

almost a Nationalist Government

open carry

in 45/50 states

we shoot each other in hatred and fury

blacks are stopped by the police

often enough to lose count

young black boys have to be 

taught how to present themselves

we find love for each other in the 

aftermath of violence,

why not before?

drinking beer with the kids

we didn't use to be kids
we were grown-ups with big ideas,
we didn't even see the pudgy older people
with white hair and wrinkled skin sitting next to us.
they were out of touch, broken and ugly.
perhaps more slender and slightly less ugly,
but with wrinkles and sun spots, I sat next
to the kids and listened in,
not intentionally.
the big ideas flowed easily mixed in
with talk of girls and trips and
mothers.
they're the kids now
they don't even notice me sitting there
I'm old now and I know this
the kids will never see the grown-ups
but we will see them and we will
remember.

The Republicans

paul ryan and his republicans
notice the few women in front,
the token females
in a backdrop of white men in their
clean suits and white shirts.
the 0.1% are so happy in their white club
the lies pour smoothly from their lips
about their concern for the non-white,
the poor, the elderly, the troubled,
as long as they don't interfere with
their tax breaks and gated communities,
private clubs and second homes.
let the poor, the brown, the black, the
white who care, rise up against them.
only then will their smug bleached smiles
fade from their faces.

some day over the rainbow

some day over the rainbow

there would be peace

talk of peace instead of that of fear and war

in Cleveland,

                right now

there's a man called Trump and all his supporters
hardly peacemakers 

the naysayers are shouted down

some day a black man will walk out his door

without fear of being pulled over,

an Afghan girl will go to school

sacred sites will stand for centuries

there's a reason rainbows are so fleeting,

to remind of us what could be,

leaving us a shadow of hope.

Nice Minneapolis San Bernardino Dallas Baton Rouge Miami Paris how many more

how many tears

should be shed

how many for each body lying dead

on the roadway

in the bar, inside a car,

outside a convenience store

how many bullets in this country

scream across space to find a warm body

soon to be cold

how many bullet holes in vests,

truck windows,

the glint of open carry weapons

blinds our children,

destroys our humanity. 

floating pie

floating pie with butter pats

missing wings 

she reaches for the sky in her

new flip flops but her toes are too far below,

she is too short to grab the pie

still unbaked,

the oven broiling the kitchen

in summer heat, she's sweating

and reaching and hoping for

sweetness and butter and berries.

getting serious

no kidding around anymore

no scribbled notes on lined paper

this is serious business

this is an exercise book for flute,

not just any book, but books 1-6.

i never did books 1-5.

much to learn

always much to learn about why

I hear the clatter of forks and knives

across the street as our neighbor we cared for

over her years of misery spends time with

our friends, yes, we who cared

for her during her darkest years

are not welcome.

thank goodness for the purity of flute,

the pure sound of song, 

for this, I am grateful.

Passed out

passed out in the vet's office

her leash still attached, she's not going anywhere

soon

until she can at least walk out on her own 

four paws.

so stoic with a foxtail stuck deep in her ear

no wonder she wouldn't even move her eyes

to look at me

sedation and a long tweezer to pull it out.

now everytime she scratches her ears or

shakes her head, we will worry about foxtails,

we will dream of foxtails

tenacious sticky foxtails

and the poor animals to whom

they stick.

the neighborhood meeting

they all brought a lawn chair
the Secretary balances her laptop on her knees
the police are there with their report
the President scrawls notes in impossibly small letters,
I think he works for the CIA,
he is so secretive and doesn't seem to get anything done
after endless officer meetings.
He smiles with a far off look in his eyes.
Joel is talking out of turn and is reprimanded by
the Secretary,
he slouches away with his dog, Roe.
I think she'd be a good playmate for Bella.
The D family complain about high school students
smoking at the curb, like they always do, knowing
there is no solution but it feels good to talk about it
and Stephen checks his phone for distraction.
Rachael and Mary are yawning, Don is getting ready
for attack mode on his favorite issues.
I admit I disappeared with the excuse to check on
Bella, who really does not need checking,
she's still passed out from her vet visit,
but I'd rather be with her.

my brother the iPhone wizard and general renaissance man

among other things,
he cooks pork ribs all day until they melt in your mouth,
lillies, impatients, ripe tomatoes thrive in his garden,
I listen to the sound of the waterfall flow into
his pond filled with golden, white and black koi,
a drink in my hand, Camembert and baguette near by,
the table set with matching napkins and sparkling water.
don't forget he saves companies and bikes hundreds
of miles without breaking a sweat,
installs skylights and attic fans,
navigates Apps and even
stops floods in their tracks.
uncle, husband, brother, son and friend.
He even has a nice smile.
my brother is amazing.
I love him for all he is.

Seeing through the clouds

he has clouds in his eyes
and flying dust bunnies jump and drift
across his moving landscape
of voltage and current spikes,
an occasional lightning strike,
the crackle of sparks in the dark.
tomorrow the clouds will lift and
the horizon will be flat and smooth,
the world in complete focus,
as sharp as his mind.

Molly

if only the world were a safer place
for such a beautiful smile, so open and warm,
eyes that shine out with intelligence and wit,
i know this about her even though i do not know her
innocence taken, the innocence of a late evening stroll
with two dogs out for their last sniff of the day,
their last pee on the bushes,
all those she left behind against her will,
the world should be a safer place
and in its absence, in her absence, the
world grieves.

a need for something new

something thrilling
that makes my teeth chatter with excitement,
a new passion that makes me get up in the morning
something new.
a new place, a talent still to be discovered,
a new friend, a new adventure, a vacation
with no end date, no schedule and no plans.
something unexpected,
a new recipe,
a different conversation
a different language
a different bed
a need for something new to
dazzle this otherwise fantastic life
so much to ask for
there for the taking

nothing new

nothing new.

my drink ended up in my lap

and I hadn't finished the book.

I might lose all my pictures

while trying to save them, 

it was hot riding home but I learned

that Tony Blair admits making a mistake

but has no regrets so he can get together

with George W and have a drink

I hope they end up in their laps.

nothing new, really

just another beautiful day in Colorado

my tomatoes have green fruits and

the weeds are under control for today

i'll floss my teeth and call it a day

Bella will wake me bright and early,

better to get some rest.

Big Jack

he fills his chair,
leaning back into power pose,
his elbows point east and west
and his large gut stretches his shirt buttons
to the almost breaking point.
the soles of his shoes face me,
he wants me to know he's in charge.
i get it
but i'm faster than big Jack,
he can only move his cumbersome frame
with great effort and mind cannot
escape body.
he'll be struggling out of his chair
as i race down the track
way ahead, never looking
back.

Only Chocolate Milk will Do

on a hot day
only chocolate milk will do,
cold whole milk blended with
chocolate sauce and chocolate ice cream.
only chocolate milk with do,
the ice will froth over with frozen cream,
coating my upper lip with white delight.
on a hot day, only cold chocolate milk
will suffice, and maybe even
twice.

Hello Jupiter

on earth we watched
strontium and calcium,
barium and lithium explode into
blues and yellows, reds and greens
for Independence Day
I hear the band playing in the background,
while Juno spins through brilliant auroras
escaping their clutches just soon enough
to spin back out into space, only to return
again and again.
we will todder home drunken, full of
brats and beers,
Juno will spin silently
around her prey, bands of clouds racing
past one another, daring her
to look below their
veils.

stumbling across the past

a family photo

a teenage girl with braces

beautiful even with her reluctant expression

that teenage girls wear

and the teenage son, as usual draping

himself over his mother

she has both her arms around him

probably to keep him from wiggling

too much for the photograph

she looks content holding her son,

her daugher's head resting on her shoulder

there is no mother who is not

content with a child on each

side of her, no matter

how hard her life.

Say Si Bon

Say si bon

allons-nous explorer

the yummy deliciousness sure to be 

dedans

say si bon

say it again, mon professeur de

francais, je sais bien que tu es d'accord

que si say si bon,

say assez bon pour nous.