Monday, November 19, 2018

Parkland Florida and Beyond



Seventeen dead
senselessly subtracted
from life’s equation
by a young man
captivated by chaotic circuitry
within a storm-tossed brain,
in a culture where
compassion cannot compete with
allure of profit,
where madness has
ready access to murderous weapons
needless death of little consequence,
where mass shootings have
become mere punctuation
if the grammar of the
everyday.

Monday, April 23, 2018

Planetary Lament



Incipient joy of
each new morning
sunlight impaling this planet
with color and warmth
gift of life
harbinger of possibilities.

Magnificent eagle effortlessly
riding the air in a pageantry of remarkable grace,
engineering its nest
in liberating spring air.

Great hordes of wildebeests
migrating across the Kenyan plains
in the elaborate and relentless
search for sustenance.

Polar bears shimmering in the
light of summer sun,
symbols of both strength and
nobility of spirit
prowling on Alaskan sea ice.

Orcas among their kin
sleek and graceful bodies
moving in defiance of gravity
denizens of the vast oceans
where life itself began.

Evening cry of the owl
perched on a crimson-hued tree
in the light of the waning sun
preparing for the hunt.

Leaf cutter ants moving
in ordered precision
on the tropical forest floor
on their way to and from
their magnificent nest.




All this inimitable beauty
fragile and bountiful
held hostage
by the human penchant
for comfort and convenience.

All these gifts bestowed by nature
threatened by mindless hubris,
the promise of gold,
the possibility of endless riches.

World laid bare by such
trivial pursuits,
world made destitute by the
naked will to power,

Pointless folly of our collective endeavor
to fashion a life
with us at the center
endangering the very soul of existence.

So far removed from the
exuberance and vibrancy of nature,
we risk stripping the future of
meaning.

What is the ultimate reward of
amassing the trinkets that delight us
in spite of the ultimate cost?

If human life has purpose and meaning,
why are we so determined to unravel
the very essence of our collective future?

This vivid blue marble suspended in the cosmos
dancing around a yellow star at the periphery of a
rather ordinary pinwheel galaxy
among billions of its kind,
is our home.

This vivid blue marble suspended in the cosmos
upon whose surface we are mere transients
it is not ours to possess,
it is not ours to devour
it is not ours to profane.

Sunday, March 18, 2018

Welcome to a Society with its Collective Head up its Woeful Ass



So profoundly racist
that chose a leader
unabashedly a pathological liar,
profoundly troubled narcissist,
adherent to the distorted vision of
white supremacy,
known abuser of women.

So profoundly stupid as
to think self-proclaimed right to
firearms
more important than
health and safety of
its own children.

Regards anyone
exhibiting reasoned compassion
to be immediately
held suspect.

Finds
scientists contemptible
science as
inherently evil.

Prefers the big lie
over truth,
proclaims racism is dead
while black men fill the prisons,
democracy is alive
while wealth flows unimpeded
from the many to the few,
climate change is a hoax
in the midst of staggering data that
tells a completely different story.

Welcome to a society
with its collective head
up its woeful ass,
prepared to sacrifice the
future well-being of the species for a
fabulous yet delusional dream.

Thursday, October 26, 2017

Parasites


Some are parasites
who prowl the earth
seeking the living
to feed upon,
who wish to devour
whatever is in their path,
deadened space
within their rapacious wake.

Born of mother
yet conceived in darkness,
bereft of humility,
devoid of compassion,
convinced that no one exists
outside the boundaries of self.

Gliding along a meticulous web
fashioned from a reservoir of
slimy self-interest
that they exude in abundance,
victims trapped within a
fortress of deceit,                                                                                 
consumed by vanity.

Parasites crave indulgence
feast upon lives made hollow
by their own carless indifference.

Parasites are the living dead,
where love is a delightful fragrance
to be purchased and constrained
within the boundaries of acquisition,
where integrity and generosity of spirit
become the enemies of profit.

Some are parasites
who wreck havoc
upon the living world,
consigning themselves to
lonely and miserable deaths.

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Women













Mother,
wellspring of my emotions
indelible imprint upon the
architecture of my
most intimate feelings.

Softness of her obliging spirit,
                        caressing warmth of her embrace
as she nurtured my infant heart,
as she enshrouded me with love,
as she planted the soul of desire
into my new born heart.

Women,
mirror to hidden parts of me
reflecting back and
shaping the degree of my affection.

Women,
teaching me
through the softness of a touch,
a simple caress,
a smile powerful enough to smooth
the most hardened surface,
a look that can pry open the
gateway to the soul.

Women,
propelling me into the
wondrous realm of surrender
to passion’s fleeting and eternal magic.

Women,
bringing me full-circle
back to mother,
bearer of life and
originator of the future.

Saturday, July 15, 2017

To the Morning




My eyes drift towards our spacious window in the front room. It is wonderfully balmy summer morning. The windsock appropriately shaped like a fish responds to a gentle yet persistent Southeasterly. It is a Saturday morning before the neighbors have awakened from their week of labor and responsibility; it is, therefore, amazingly peaceful for a street on this relatively quiet neighborhood. The breeze stirs the many dazzling blossoms as they grasp and hold the mysteries of the solar magician rising in the Eastern sky. These blossoms, however, did not appear by magic; their presence is a product of Julia’s persistent skill and wondrous imagination.

The birds are stirring as they queue up for their turn at the feeder. A squirrel is darting among the aged branches of an elderly plum tree whose productivity of Italian prunes has diminished over the years much like my own. Our neighbor has reported the sighting of a mischievous rabbit investigating our meager offerings.

The day ahead looms with its promise, surprises, elation and potential disappointments. I will attempt to greet it head-on; I am more than a little thankful of the manner in which my lungs masterfully grasp the air and extract from it the oxygen that all my cells cry out for and that my heart still manages to faithfully pump throughout my body so that my eyes may partake of the majesty of this earth as my brain shapes these few words to express my boundless appreciation.

Thursday, June 15, 2017

To the Now


It is this moment,
this fleeting.
this ephemeral
bit of rushing time.

That is it,
clear,
immediate,
particular
now.

On its way
among the relics and
graveyard of the past
to be contemplated in some
future nowness or
simply forgotten.

I live in the moment,
by the second,
not subject to conjecture,
immune to elaborate planning or
introspection.

Future time
may not be mine,
these molecular bits
could be finally heading
to the realm
where Chaos abides,
my ultimate destiny.

It is this moment,
this glancing tribute
to existence,
to certainty,
the rest is speculation.