Blessed Rain

Rainy  day, dream away

Ah, let the sun take a holiday

Flowers bathe and I see the children play

Lay back and groove on a rainy day

-- From Rainy Day, Dream Away by Jimi Hendrix

Blessed rain yesterday

Umbrella in hand as I walk to work

Chilly 

Wind — but not too much 

Just the way I like it

(Watch those slippery leaves)

Under trees it is pouring

The dirty air getting a much needed bath

The grass is joyous

Flowers are thankful

Maybe

Just maybe

We can finally put a dent

Into our awful drought

Maybe the hills can be green

For months

Meanwhile I’m happy

Nice to have nature back on our side

And I've managed to stay dry

Thanks umbrella

Thanks clouds

Thanks all around

Now if it would only last….

Frustration

That darn tree

It has my ball

The lowest branch out of reach

So no way to climb it

I ask a squirrel for help

But it scurries away

There’s a bird near my ball

Could you pass it down? I ask

To no avail

I plead with the wind

Just one good strong gust

But the air remains still

Eureka! I find another ball

I’ll use it to knock mine down

First throw too high

Second bangs against a branch

Third time a charm?

Nope the second ball gets stuck too

That darn tree

Five Haiku

Smiling young woman

Walked along the rushing creek

A white duck quacked

Wind crackles through trees

Leaves make their descent to ground

Time to get a rake

River’s angry flow

Carries debris and lifts boats

Happy to reach shore

Happy foggy day

Cooler here than the suburbs

Let’s go for a walk

The rain has fallen

Birds chirp through the misty air

Nature has prevailed

Rushed Dreams

I danced by the yawning precipice

Heedless of the vertiginous heights

A fall into the abyss was of little concern

Better to soar with eagles

Dance on clouds

The morning sun obstructed my view

It was turning into a far out day

The caterwaul of angels heightened reality

And the dance of the jet stream lit dreams

Oh to be scaling the heights 

Finding heaven perched on a mossy bank

By the rushing dream

Where everyone was young and naked

And fear was something only in fiction

Tears of joy mingled with the warm rain

While the cold sun hid behind the dark moon

Such a strange and wonderful lunch

Feasting on these words

Lucky I was hungry

The Fountain of Old Age

Time in dreams is frozen. You can never get away from where you've been. — Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin.

Somewhere my youth goes on

Another dimension

Or inside me now

As I go on

And I do

Those days when I was indestructible

When my dreams and future were indistinguishable 

Then

That was but maybe is

And I am still

The fountain of old age

But the search is never ending

But somewhere my youth persists

Still so sure of itself

Still fumbling, stumbling, shambling

But still my own

Me

Mine 

And I’ll reclaim it again

There there behind that dream

Next to that idea

Just to the right of that emotion

Somewhere my youth goes on

I love it

Pain

The sky shattered around me falling to the ground like shards of glass

I wept that morning

Dreams of vanquished scoundrels now forgotten

The lump in my throat genuine

Musings, hallucinations, dribbles of the mind and the endless pain of mortality

Never to recover from my own birth

How horrible to be here facing eternity

As the eggs boil and bask and break and bother 

The gumshoe squealed to the cops despite his silence Having been handsomely paid for

And what do you do when there’s nothing but poetry and your own falling heart diving into the ocean

Never to recover

Always to be a lover

Seems simple

But the pain says no

Pain

Pain is always the theme

So much of it (pain) coursing through me and exiting with every exhalation and returning with every inhalation 

To not breath might be the cure

Pure

Purity

Surety

There is none

Nor fun

Just a life in the shadows of pain

All I can do in response is to create

Never too late

And so I cannot cry

The simplicity of it all

All of it together here and forever and now and then and again and soon

How I strive

Stay alive

Crying in the darkness

Never more sure than when uncertain

Curtain

Not to be continued

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