Bureaucrats bully
Bullies for being bullies
Bully, bully boo!

gentle streams of water
leave the melting snow
over sand and pebbles
higher land to low
tiny ripples sparkle
along the sidewalks slow
under warm sun beating down
gently, gently flow

little currents spread the sand
picking up debris
tiny specks and particles
headed towards the sea
pushing forward, pulled along
water running free
gentle water makes its way
moving on like me

The winter sand that still remains
Along the walks and streets
Makes a sweet, seductive sound
Underneath my feet,
Like a lover clears her throat,
When about to speak...

I
Drip
Drip
Drip

From my
Tip
Tip
Tip

Like a
Tooth
Tooth
Tooth

From the
Roof
Roof
Roof

In freezing weather
I grow
Long
Long
Long

When the sun gets hot
I'll be


Gone
Gone
Gone

Outward beauty:
A passing breeze--
Stirs the drapes
And its gone.

Inner beauty:
That shines through
Whatever you have on.

I see their tanned and weathered skin
And wonder where your hands have been.

I see the gray streak in your hair
And know it wasn't always there.

My heart before I met you
Was desolate and cold,
With gusts of howling wind
And shifting drifts of snow.

Now, the wind lives in your hair,
And your eyes my shelter are.

The best part about falling in love
Is just when it begins,
And the best part about making love
Is just before it ends:
The ecstasy surrounds us, then
We sail away on tide and wind
To do the best parts
Over again

Wisps of blown snow,
Ghosts of bygone summer days,
Cross an open field

We'd float like two clouds
Through the sky all day
From the rising sun
'Til its setting ray
There would be nothing
That wouldn't be play
And all things but us
Would just fade away

Mere abstract thought is
Boring to a centipede--
Timeless light he sees

Precious wine-sweet days
Fitting, extended dessert
For a longtime love

They wax and wane like two bright moons
In separate orbits around their sun;
When she nods or holds her head still,
They shimmer slightly, almost full.
She smiles, I see their lunar shapes,
Nearly motionless by her face.  

She shakes her head, they fly about
Twisting, whirling, swinging out;
They settle after much ado--
A final quarter and crescent new
That tremble gently while she thinks
And swing like pendulums when she speaks;
The quarter hides beneath her hair;
I watch for it to reappear.

They jiggle, dangle and attract;
I fight my feelings, holding back.
She tilts her head, and one suspends;
The other lies along her neck:
She's thinking, pondering what was said,
Not quite sure the point she'll make.
She blinks, nods slowly, writes it down,
Draws her breath, then makes a frown,
Turns away, then looks at me:
"No, no," she says, "I disagree...",
And then they bounce and rock and spin
Like wind chimes in a gust of wind.

Cold ribbon of black,
Winding through the ice and snow
Tell me what you know

You are the red sun rising
And I the dawn's warm glow
That's not exactly how it is,
But similar, I know

You are the moving ocean
And I the rising tide
A very hard thing to describe
But at least I tried

You are the pure white snow drifts
And I the Winter chill
That's a close description
But that's not quite it still

You are the mountain air,
And I the eagle flying,
Really, its not quite that way
But I keep on trying

Its like the barriers cease to exist
When bolts of lightning merge;
We pause--the thunder rolls away--
Then feel another surge

We just want someone
To play with they said
Until the lights go out
And they put us to bed

A warm sandy beach
Maybe a bikini
A super cold glass
With a double martini

Someplace to go
Someone to go with
Someone who's nice
Our hearts to give

A quick get-away
Places with honey
Summer on the lake
Winter where its sunny

And we want it now
Before we're infirm
And what's left of us
Is food for the worm

I feel the cold air on my face
And hear our footsteps in the sand,
We've covered all this ground before--
Things aren't exactly as we planned.

You say you're not sure if you'll stay--
You seem inclined to go;
I say things might work out in time,
But then, its hard to know.

A feathery snowflake falls in your hair
And quickly disappears;
It hasn't happened exactly like that
In billions and billions of years.

Our talk turns to philosophy,
We subtle points expand;
Ideas from the depths emerge,
You gesture with your hand.

We walk on, wrapped in dialogue
Of faith and our uncertainty;
With snowflakes drifting by your face
At this point in eternity.

I like to hear Frank
Sing Adestes Fideles
But Cal was better

Outside my window
Outside my window
Hear the wind blowing
Hear the wind blowing
Where is it going
Where is it going

I wonder, I wonder, I wonder...

Outside my window
Outside My window
Hear the rain falling
Hear the rain falling
Who is it calling
Who is it calling

I wonder, I wonder, I wonder...

Outside my window
Outside my window
I'm drifting on air
I'm drifting on air
Somewhere on the air
Somewhere on the air

I wonder, I wonder, I wonder...

Just where...

A dry martini,
Jobim, and you beside me
On the leather couch

I see a fly
The day goes by
You look at the leaves
Tomorrow is nigh
You stand at the stove
Warm soup in a ***
When you're old
A day goes by like a shot

I put on my hat
The day is gone
You kiss me good night
And its almost dawn
A robin chirps
The sun goes down
We rise for coffee
The world spins 'round

Ironing a shirt
Watering the garden
A week goes by
Then a year
When summer comes
Its almost winter
When winter sets in
Spring's nearly here

He sat on the beach
Alone, watching the sunset,
Recalling lost loves.

I have nobody,
Bad heart, could go anytime,
Really big pension.

A carved-out pumpkin
Sitting on the porch, aglow
With eyes, mouth and nose

Cool gray days
With cool gray rains
And cool gray trees
Along cool gray lanes
With cool gray puddles
Where gentle rain drops land
In overlapping circles
That gradually expand
L:ike chords in cool gray music
From a really cool gray band

With earthy scents arising
From saturated grounds,
Persistent, cool gray dampness
Body and mind surrounds
Like a cloak upon your shoulders
With satin for a backing
A kind of satisfaction,
A comfort when you're walking

And the dampness softly wraps you
In a cool gray cocoon,
Like a cozy private room
Where you sleep 'til afternoon,
And when you wake anew
The gray cocoon is gone
And you spread your brilliant wings
In a bright, warm, yellow sun.

Odds are that compared
To folks on other planets
We are average

Sad, yellow larches
Thought this day would never come  
Late fall upon them

You are the spirit that dwells in my life
And fills me with incredible joy
I am the spirit that joins with your life
And takes you to heights unimagined
Our love has no time, no day or no night
Only an ecstasy unending
Nothing exists on the face of this earth
That can bring us in for a landing

I saw you ugly in a costume
You wore for Halloween.
You had decaying buckteeth on
And the ugliest hair I've ever seen.

I recognized you right away
Though your face I could not see:
Maybe it was how you walked
Or the way you spoke to me.

We went along, you took the teeth out,
To show me they weren't real;
When I asked you if I could,
You offered your hair to feel.

It was oily and matted and looked like bugs
Were living somewhere within;
You laughed and asked if I noticed
The paperclip used for a pin.

We kept on walking, side by side,
I liked you, ugly or not:
Its what's beneath that matters,
And that shines through, I thought.

Beneath the surface I saw beauty
Out on an ugly lark
And me becoming more and more eager
To be with her in the dark.

She's pert and a little bit sharp
I'm mellow and just a bit flat
There's a natural note between us,
And I'm totally fine with that.

We resonate best in high keys--
Jack it all up a few notches
Play hot notes in tempo upbeat
We'll dance while everyone watches.

She's a rock star, I'm her groupie
My tattoos are all about her
When she's on stage I'm attending
And high as a kite, that's for sure.

There's more to her than meets the eye
She's a dream of a special kind
I know she won't evaporate
She's there, and not just in my mind.  

She puts on a fantastic show--
Crazy dancing, extremely loud
The mob catches on, going nuts,
But she's there for me, not the crowd.  

Later, I'm back stage to hook up
(ID, special pass--all that stuff)    
Party like there's no tomorrow
Whatever we do's not enough.

The best ideas are always there
Round, yellow lights in a shifting mist:
Sometimes clear,
Sometimes blurry and obscure.
Steady, like stars in the sky,
But sometimes seeming to move,
Like stars do when the clouds drift.
They are always there, but always silent:
They never speak,
And words never come near them,
Almost never.

Doctor, Doctor
I've trouble with my eyes

Then take these blue pills,
That's what I advise

Oh Doctor, Doctor
My bones are all sore

White pills I prescribe
They'll hurt you no more

But Doctor, Doctor
My heartbeat is waning

Take red pills for that
You'll soon be regaining

Please Doctor, please
My mind fades away

For that I have gray pills
You'll be sharper today

Its quite shocking Doctor,
My ***** is murky

Take these yellow pills
They'll clear it by Thursday

I mope around Doctor,
My mood's really flat

These rose colored pills
Will take care of that

You must help me Doctor,
In bed I'm a flop

Then try these long capsules
They'll liven things up

Tell me please Doctor,
What's inside these pills?

Why medicine, of course,
To cure all your ills

I went out early and saw the sunlight
Dive on the breast of a mountain;
Then I watched the firs and spruces
Poking through the fog.

I ground their words into tiny flakes
And smoked them all afternoon;
Then I succumbed and floated up
Way up, like a balloon.

When I woke, the flames of dawn
Were raging in the east;
Nighttime left my roof and lawn
And crept off like a beast.

I was fixing the flowers
When blue-eyed morning
Stopped and came inside:
We visited over coffee
Until the dew had dried.

Beneath my feet, leaves
Fallen on the woodland path,
Souls of summer past.

There was an old snapping turtle
That she thought of as a pet;
It might have been older than she was
(That's how old turtles can get.)

One day he crawled out of the pond,
And she fed him fish from a can;
"Isaac" came back on occasion
To eat right out of her hand.

One day, he crawled to the road
And was almost hit by a truck--
The driver, being a kind soul,
Stopped and picked Isaac up.

He carried the turtle to safely,'
Setting him loose on the lawn,
Then drove away in his pick-up
As the old woman looked on.

She hobbled down to her Isaac,
Keeping steady with her cane;
When she finally got there
She pointed at him and exclaimed:

"Isaac, this time you were lucky,
You know I've warned you before:
That road is very dangerous,
You might get his by a car!"

Summer leaves
Know the secrets of the heart
And tell them to the wind.

Autumn leaves are Love's
Memory, glowing and
Cherished forever.

Winter's bare branches
Reach to heaven
And suffer for their sins
In silence.

With Spring come buds
Of Hope and Joy and, from them,
The leaves that know our hearts
So well.

Those halcyon days of yore
Lost forever like Lenore
And Leda and her godly swan
Forever come, forever gone.
Rough beasts in their hour slouch
But to flop upon the couch,
While memory mixes with desire
In the soul's broke-down empire.
Behold the smile of Ozymandias
(Do you wonder who he is?)
The preserver and destroyer?
Or maybe an ambitious lawyer?
Or the fearful handful of dust
That we wish we didn't trust?
Meanwhile the ominous moving finger,
Of truths unalterable the bringer,
Writes and then moves on,
Bitter tears to spawn.
Then there was the heel weak
That didn't get dipped in the creek
And anger over loss that prods
Both loving men and watchful gods.
The skull you hold--alas poor who?
Keep it cool, I knew him too,
Him and his considerable jest--
Some among us are so blessed.
Now in his grave he rests indeed
Where all our paths, alas, must lead;
Except, perhaps, for Humbert Humbert
(Remember that salacious old pervert?)
Scheming to get with his nymphette
In ways impossible to forget?
Outside at night J.J. compares streams
One more sibilant, or so it seems
And discusses Plumtree's potted meat
Ending up with "Yes, oh Yes my sweet".
Aroma from the petite madeleine
Reaches to where recollections begin
Of magnificent asparagus spears
And lesser events of long past years.
But for all that, for every bit of that, Stan
A man is still every bit a man
So get it together and get off the can
And make yourself a brand new plan:
The glowing time of midwinter spring
Has always been its own kind of thing
Don't be a gentleman in that good night
Get down with the program and put up a fight.
Come out strong like a red, red rose
And keep on punching until it snows.

The flies were buzzing
Like they always do
Out at the dump
In the afternoon

The wind was blowing
Like it always does
When the rain
Will be falling soon

People were shopping
All over the mall
Like they do
Every day of the week

And at the debate
Politicians were lying
Like they usually do
When they speak

Our love is like a bottle of wine
We've been drinking
A very, very long time--
What a joy it is to be with you,
Lifelong love of mine,
To bask in those glorious, blue eyes
And to know that I am thine!

We'll have our third glass together
And after we've finished it all,
We'll look at the bottle we've emptied
And find it again still full.

Little gray birds chirp
As sweet as maple syrup
On their flight back south

When I see you walking towards me
It is as if someone is filling my glass with wine,
And I am filled with pleasant anticipation
Watching it rise in the smooth, curving crystal,
And I am freed from space and time
And from the world of matter
To drift above us both in the music that I hear
And to spectate on everything that happens
As the pour approaches the brim,
So beckoning and so clear.

Oh let me sink to the depths of sleep
Where no birds sing and no bugs creep

Let me drift through that endless ocean
Feeling neither pain nor emotion

Let me tumble through that abyss
Craving neither wealth nor a kiss

To sweet oblivion let me sink
Where I still breathe but do not think

Where eons pass like before I was born
And there is neither approval nor scorn

Oh let me to the womb return
Where all my knowledge I'll unlearn

Please let me like the sunset fade
To where I was before I was made

at first an unrelenting green covers everything:
the trees, the lawn, the hillsides, the marshes, the windbreaks,
everything is completely and totally green, the deepest, truest green,
so green you might even forget that it wasn't always green,
so green you might not stop to think that it won't always be green.
school children look out windows during their exams,
longing to be free amid all that greenness,
lovers sit in parks near the water, under perfectly green leaves,
listening to the wind, watching the stars come out
and making their wishes, forever joined with that unrelenting green.
artists dip their impressionistic brushes in the green and dab on canvas
pictures of people gathered at picnics in dappled, green shade,
joined with the greenness, enveloped and absorbed by it,
becoming green themselves. they paint pictures of leafy trees reaching beyond the canvas with patches of sky showing through, a perspective of endless summer that you have to look at a long time
to see and feel, but once you find it beyond the greenness, in the
blue beyond the hill, you will be part of it always: through the fading mid-summer and pale, yellowing late summer, even into the multi-
colored fall and the stark, grey-white winter, and you will know life, and hope and love,  and nothing will ever seem the same again

Maybe I'll write a poem
That totally rocks
Like maybe one about
Pick-up trucks
And good-old boys
Who drink and make noise
And ogle the girls that sashay by,
Leering and giving them the eye
For nothing but tosses of their heads,
Snarky sneers and icy "Drop deads".  
Or maybe I'll write of high society,
Given to extravagance more than to piety,
Dressed in their finest, parading the street,
Deferential to all, light on their feet,
Dancing through life toward their urns of ashes.  
Or maybe about old men wearing galoshes,
Smoking cigarettes in the snow,
Maybe there's more future in that:
Some things you never know.
Or maybe I should write about lovers and haters
Or apple pie and mashed potaters.
So many topics out there to choose:
The seasons, bananas, fantasies, the blues...
But maybe its not the subject you select
But how you present it that has the effect?

Sound of a single,
Falling leaf hitting the ground,
Like life, very brief

Crickets that chirp all day and all night
Looking for love in their season
Fields of goldenrod that stretch in all directions
The way they did when we were children
Earlier sunsets we notice at mid-month
That make us wonder where the summer went
Cool mornings with fog that burns off
And still air, infused with familiar scents
Bats that come from behind the shutters
To pursue their flights at dusk
(If only we could fly with them)
Apples falling from trees with soft, little thuds,
Reminding us of summer's end and of gravity
Migrating birds that eat the honeysuckle berries
While a monarch lights and spreads his wings
On the white phlox...

That's August up north

Chicken Soup

A bowl of chicken soup hot and steamy,
The clear chicken broth, not white and creamy,
With noodles and chunks of chicken afloat
Its good for a cold and for a sore throat.
Companion in age and childhood friend
Its lunch time and we're together again.
Once I had soup with sandwich baloney
Now, its with unsalted crackers only.
Doc tells me I have to watch what I eat,
So from salt and fat I have to retreat.
But let me impart this one, little scoop:
I'll never relinquish my chicken soup.