Sunday, November 29, 2020

It's 1966

Willie Mays in centerfield

Allen Ginsberg writing poems

My father driving his truck

I’m tossing the ball in the backyard

Or

Watching a silly sitcom

American soldiers dying in Vietnam

Or

Losing body parts

Lyndon Johnson on the phone in the Oval Office

Or

Lying about the war

Richard Nixon plotting his next run

The 49ers play at Kezar Stadium

Steve McQueen the coolest

Everyone loves the space program

Marijuana sales increasing everywhere

The Beatles put out a new album

Jack Kerouac still alive and writing 

Or

Drinking

J Edgar Hoover plotting against the New Left

Or

The Civil Rights Movement

Dr. King organizing

My Mom a schizophrenic shouting

Or

Making diner

The Viet Cong winning

England swinging like a pendulum do

The Iron Curtain tall and mighty 

And 

Oppressive

Skirts short on girls 

And 

Young women

Bewitched remains a popular TV show

Motown and soul music a happy marriage

Unions strong

The CIA schemes against legit governments abroad

I hate school but love books

Girls getting increasingly interesting to me

American cars too big

But 

Gas is cheap

Cigarette commercials on TV

More Americans protesting the war

The best and worst yet to come

 

Saturday, November 14, 2020

Fading Light

The fading light of a November dusk

Wet leaves from yesterday’s rain

Cover the garden and sidewalk

The plodding steps of a passerby

The crows are quiet now

It feels soft and warm in the house

Maybe time for hot tea and a cookie

I’m ignoring my book now

Just as I’ve ignored writing

The depth of this moment tugs at me

It is another day waning

They are passing too quickly now

Their haste brings an emptiness

And I try to fill it with fading light

Never

Works


Tuesday, August 4, 2020

Recycling

I pulled the recycling bins to the curb
The trash bin too
A truck will come by tomorrow
and empty them
Then I’ll pull the bins back
to where they sit all week
Gradually they will fill up
As we take out our trash
and recycling
The process is the same every week
I like it
I like that we have so little trash
and so much more recycling
There’s also a compost bin
It wasn’t even half full this week
So I didn’t put it out on the curb
Once a month I clean the compost bin
with a water using the new hose we bought
The compost been gets pretty gross
So much of life is in cycles
That’s the way it goes

Wednesday, May 13, 2020

End of Night

That rugged
That tweed jacket
The cigarette smoke
The wallet full of ones
A scarf dangling
A shirt untucked
Toussled hair
Cynical
Yet laughing
The smell of bourbon
No gloves
Loafers and thin socks
Reciting poetry
Arrogant friendship
It is two men
There was a tall slinky blonde
She blew
The sun is rising
From the stoop
Shiver
Long day overlapping
Friendship
A manicured hand on the shoulder
Rise unsteadily
Time for coffee

Monday, March 2, 2020

I Saw

I saw a dust mote
Hello, I said
No response
I saw a fig tree
Hello, I said
No response
I saw a blue bird
Hello, I said
No response
I saw the Roman Coliseum
Hello, I said
No response
I saw a rain drop
Hello, I said
No response
I saw a beautiful woman
Hello, I said
No response
Finally I saw a puppy dog
Hello, I said
It barked at me
Sigh I sighly sighed sighing
And that's the end of the poem

Sunday, January 26, 2020

It All Belongs to Me

"Everything belongs to me because I’m poor." - from Visions of Cody by Jack Kerouac

I walked this morning and the day belonged to me
because I am not rich
It had rained overnight and the wet ground belonged to me
because I am not rich
The large white clouds hanging in the sky belonged to me
because I am not rich
A dog approached and let me pet him and that moment belonged to me
because I am not rich
There was a cold wind that gently slapped my cheeks and it belonged to me
because I not rich
I was able to relax and not be rushed as I strolled the neighborhood as time belonged to me
because I am not rich
All the pretty houses and their lawns belonged to me too
so did the fences and the gardens and the signs and the sun and the mist and the flowers and the slick sidewalks and streets
It all belongs to me because I am not rich
Do you hear me?
I am not rich!
The rich only have money and property and cars and possessions and stocks and investments and portfolios
They own nothing of value because they are rich
We who are not rich own everything important and it is not for sale
But we will share it because we know how to share
The rich do not
The day and the sky and the grass and the smells and the cool fresh air are ours and they cannot be bought
I am happy today and feel good and healthy and wise and strong
because I am not rich
(Thank you Jack Kerouac for telling me the truth)

Friday, January 24, 2020

At Jefferson Elementary School

At Jefferson Elementary School we used to play dodgeball
We also played a game in which we alternately hit a ball against a wall (I forget the name of this competition)
We also played kickball which was just like baseball only instead of batting you kicked
I remember you could request how you wanted the ball delivered when you were up
I preferred fast and bouncy
Slow and bouncy was another option
The others were slow and rolly and fast and rolly
I was good at all these games
Basketball too
And flag football
I was a very competitive child

At Jefferson Elementary School I had teachers named Mrs. Allison,
Mrs. Holmes, Mrs. Hughes, Ms. Canino, Ms. Phillips and Mrs. MacDonald
One of them I had twice but I’m not sure who
I remember that Mrs. Phillips was — or seemed — quite old
I remember that Ms. Canino and Mrs. MacDonald were young
I remember that our principal’s name was Mr. Wilde

At Jefferson Elementary School I was eligible to be in the traffic patrol because of my good grades and fine behavior
But I didn’t want to wear a stupid uniform and march and hold a big sign
So I declined the opportunity -- real rebel without a cause stuff
When the traffic patrol had drills I stayed behind in the classroom with all the boys who were ineligible because of bad grades and poor behavior
They were all my friends so I was happy
I don’t know where there girls were at this time
Probably doing some home ec stuff

At Jefferson Elementary School I had many friends and a few sworn enemies
One of my enemies was a kid we called The Choker because he would choke innocent kids with his big beefy hands
One day I’d had enough so I mustered up my courage and hit The Choker in the shoulder with a karate chop
He never bothered me again
My friends included Mark, Brent, Georges, Phillip, Lindsey, Thornton, Douglas, Stanley, Joel and Royal
There were others too
I know, none of them were girls, girls came later
We also played army which kids did a lot back then

At Jefferson Elementary School I learned to read and to write and add and subtract and multiply and divide
I learned some things about history and science
I did some art and some drama and some music
I liked learning but preferred to do it on my own
I liked reading books but I preferred to pick my own books to read thank you very much

At Jefferson Elementary School I was the class clown
I liked to make people laugh
I was good at it
The attention was nice
Teachers liked me but sometimes had to tell me that enough was enough with the funny stuff
I never thought there was such thing as enough but I didn’t want to get into trouble

At Jefferson Elementary School I discovered The Beatles when I was in the fifth grade
The day after they were on the Ed Sullivan show Ms. Phillips opined that they were just a passing fad
She was wrong
My life changed because of The Beatles
Suddenly music was really important
Long hair became desirable
I learned about being cool
My favorite Beatle was Paul

At Jefferson Elementary School I did a lot of growing up
I started as a kindergartner and left as a 6th grader
I remember it fondly
The school still stands today and when I walk by it memories come back
I visualize my old classmates and teachers and recall incidents
Maybe I’ll walk by there again soon

I like my memories of Jefferson Elementary School

Monday, January 20, 2020

The Creeper

Death crept closer today
Again
It never steps back
It never stands still
It creeps toward me
Until one day we shall meet
And I will lose
It might bound toward me
One day
And take me down suddenly
In a single attack
Or it might continue slowly
Methodically
I run
But it follows
It does not lose ground
Maybe someday it will be so close
That I will sense it
Or smell it
Or even see it
Or feel it
Sad but inevitable
So today I must dance
Today I must know joy
I must hug a person
I must love people
I must find meaning
There’s simply no other choice
Because death closes in

Saturday, January 18, 2020

Please Let Me See

I want to see something supernatural
I want to see a ghost
An apparition
A poltergeist
At least an extra terrestrial
Bigfoot would do
Anything that no one will believe
(Seeing is believing)
I want to be shocked and awed
By the inexplicable
The unexplained
The mysterious
-- I’ve seen so much of real life
All that reality
All those things that are empirically verifiable --
Anything that baffles or astounds would do
How about a talking dog?
A hiccuping stone?
A flying saucer or a flying cup
Please let me see the truly bizarre
The weird
Let me be in a state of disbelief at what I’m seeing
Just once
Please

Tuesday, January 14, 2020

From Lollipops to Wills

Had my annual physical today
I have it every year
Was queried and probed and poked
I’m fine and dandy
I like being dandy
But not a dandy
Got a shot too
But no lollipop
Have outgrown them
I suppose
Instead I was encouraged to write a will
Well, that’s a switch!
Time has flown by and someday I’ll be dead
But not today
Today I got to walk home from my appointment
Meandered through Berkeley streets
So much green after the rain
So much blue sky
So many white puffs of clouds
Colors everywhere
And houses and cars and some people too
No cars struck me as I crossed busy streets
Or as I crossed quiet streets
Before my appointment I browsed in a bookstore
In my favorite bookstore
I wasn’t looking for anything in particular
I bought two books in particular though
I love bookstores
So full of books!
My room is full of books too
If I can stay healthy I’ll be able to read the ones
I haven’t read yet
Maybe not all
Because I keep buying knew ones
Never enough time
But always time for walks
And for smiles
And for hugs
And for writing words like these
Still wish I’d gotten a lollipop
Oh well

Monday, January 13, 2020

Angels in Poems

I like writing poems because it allows for angels
to exist
Wonders can abound in poems
like angels and talking mannequins
Characters from Hamlet can cavort
with the Marx Brothers
Dancing pink roses can listen to carolers
Sing about the Queen of Cleveland
And mermaids can talk to sailors
While washing porcelain dishes
But most of all angels can exist
They can make us smile and glow
And be prettier than we are
But only in poems
Like this one