Smell That?

Tear through the distortion,

Rip through magnetic fields.

Come back to a proportion that

Will show you what is real.

Don’t “get a grip,” release it!

Remember who you are -

Who you were before they taught you

To be selfish, “smart,” a scar.

If there’s a lump in your throat,

It’s because there ought to be.

For what lies have been forced down it,

When you could’ve been living free.

Self Similarity

A forest in the crook of every tree

On each petal, a garden

Is the whirl of earth and universe,

Acts we’ve truly starred in?

What’s the smallest spec of consciousness?

Inspect it with temerity.

Dark matter’s truly ominous,

Viewed in self-similarity.

Where’s the center? Where to start? 

The Hub of Light? The axle?

Doesn’t matter much, which part,

Since everything is fractal.

In sum, in parts, a statement

About all that is and was,

A poem with no abatement,

Just because.

Real Sounds

I love it when the TV’s off

And no one’s even speaking

No music needs to fill my ears,

No bass, midrange or squeaking.

Now I can really hear real life,

When there’s a break from words.

Soft fan, soft traffic, humming fridge,

Footsteps, dogs and birds.

Old Things

Every second of the past, rusted, antique

How they pile up when they are counted!

Closely observed, it’s with their texture that they speak

Clutter! We’ll judge to what they’ve all amounted.

What piece, to me, seems like just some old junk

To someone else, it may seem gilded porcelain

Depends on thought, or rather, what was thunk,

(Which is the sound past moments make when you have

 dropped one!)

Night II

I will sleep, grateful

For words that keep me floating

Across seas of stars.

Meditation Bell

A pebble meets a pool

Stone meeting liquid glass

(The freshness of damp grass)

The splash, a liquid jewel

The stone is smooth, yet rough

Water’s surface is abrupt

They meet, and touch, erupt

Now, inhaled, is enough

Yet, on the timbre rings - 

Concentric circles, softer, wider

Wave of sound and form get quieter

Breathing, breath, consciousness brings

Irrelevant Misstep

Sweet mistake majestic,

Error most imperial,

Wakes of the sleekest, swiftest boats

Disappear, no longer real.

So life will close above you, too

And painlessly, congeal.

Breathtaking misjudgment

And all effects thereof

Seem permanent in consequence

But are dissolved by love

We stumble down our rocky paths

To a miscue-free above.

I Know This One

I will pay attention

In the stillness, way up close

I will find the metaphors for

Things that matter most

I will mark the answers

And remember them as well

So that when the questions come to me

I’ll have answers to tell.

Goldfish

Swaying and weaving

In a soft and liquid world ...

Goldfish are lucky!

Get a Cat

If you want to write a poem,

Get a cat.

If you want to read a poem,

Take a nap.

If you want to write a poem,

Write it flat

If you want to ride a poem

Then, get sat.

And if you want to hide a poem

Buy a map

But if you want to buy a poem

Sell your hat

If you want to trade a poem

Trade for rap

If you want to poop a poem,

Eat this ...  Crap.

For My Urn

She’s done with this life’s body;

It served her faithfully.

And, though she did enjoy it,

She did, its end, foresee.

She died, then looked down on it

Without the sigh of breath,

And hoped that those who knew her,

Would know she’d not regret her “death.”

NaNoWriMo

Errors

I made mistakes today, in two’s

I made them in my walking shoes.

Though imperfection isn’t news,

Tonight, atonement is my muse.

So I admit to being a fool

To being wrong by my own rule

Errors, the search for wisdom fuel,

And I was not, on purpose, cruel.

So, I see flaws, to my own sorrow;

I won’t make those mistakes tomorrow.

I’m sure I’ll make their foolish brothers!

Just like my neighbors, friends and others.

Dream’s Message

Tired from the miles she did,

Her lashes met her lower lid

And in the blackness of sleep’s skies,

Northern lights behind her eyes,

Dream said, “I give you all the lessons.

Answers come before the questions!

I am life’s livelier extension.

Wake to dulls dreams, but pay attention!

Answers come before the questions!

Remember this to learn your lessons.

Knowing what you would soon ask

Is daytime’s most important task.”

Dagger, Cursed (An Italian Sonnet)

Sorrow in a wet, grey hood

I saw him from across the square

No honorable weapon, there,

Cursed dagger in his hand, he stood….

I knew him, and his heart was good;

His passion, deep, his anger, rare.

But revenge has slaked his deepest care,

What happened to me in the wood.

Gray drops from sky, red from the steel

Tip of Gaio’s dagger, cursed.

Gray. Despair. He stares. I reel.

Pale, his face. We face the worst.

Candles

(

Take this candle

Here’s another

Take a blue one 

Take a white one

It’s all over

You’re so sorry

Take a green one

Let me light one

Take this small one

Is that your penance?

Watch the wax run

Over, all done

Too many to hold?

Take this white one

Paid up, in full,

Cleansed, Right? Undone?

Just one more, two more

Hard to handle?

Bathed in light?

Would you like a candle?

Six more, Four more,

Four, for, not right. 

But somehow, you can still sleep at night.

American K-12 “Education”

Unschool me, please.

I will unschool myself.

Not from what little good I gleaned

From the garbage on that shelf,

But from the real point of it,

Designed by long-dead creatures,

Those foul “captains of industry”

Who took control of teachers

Who must now, to keep a soul-less job,

Convince their tender charges

That they’re unimportant, 

Wrong, and must conform;

Obedience, the archest goal,

Honing intellect? Not vital,

Just don’t deviate from norm.

Schools are

Obedient worker factories,

That really teach shopping and scorn.

Southwest, Star

In the sky of night

I must be someone’s shooting star

So comfortable in flight,

A tiny light, from earth, apart.

Plus Minus Plus

Plus, minus, plus minus, 

Plus minus plus,

The math of the substance

Of moments for us.

Things added, subtracted,

Throughout life and ages

Plus events, minus memories,

Inverted at stages,

Plus toys, minus toys,

Plus people, and feeling

Minus neighbors and classes,

Times glances worth stealing,

Factored coefficients of 

Variable moods

Grouped, simplified, and

Divided by food.

The unscribbled triumph,

A career binomial,

The elegant terms of your

Social trinomial,

By the great common factor

Of secrets you keep,

Completing the square by

Exponents of sleep

While the starlight properties

Of prime numbers, gleaming,

Orders your operations for you

While you’re dreaming.

(From the soon-to-be-published A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 2 )

A Bit Of Strange

Announcing the unveiling of Vol. 2 of A Loop Around The Sun, which is soon to be published. This is the first posting of a poem from Vol. 2. (Kind of exciting!) I hope you like it.

A Bit of Strange

Turn the seasons inside out!

That May is dark and cold and gray

No reason to the cycles now

Perceptible, it’s just that way

Will trees bloom red, in autumn dress

And starlings hatch at harvest time

Will bees do dancing less and less

Will Winter flower the creeping vine?

This cycle now we have not seen

And can’t predict, or comprehend

A longer cycle’s edge has been.

A strange loop to begin again.

NaNoWriMo Update

So far? Crushing it. Like a beast! More importantly, I'm having fun. Word count is at 23,614, officially, here on day 10, with "miles to go before I sleep." The story is really good, too, albeit very rough. NaNoWriMo: an invaluable exercise in word surfing, and an incredible confidence builder. I'm loving the ride.

May I present ...

my short short story, (four and a half pages) in pdf format, suitable for printing or downloading for  your ebook reading pleasure ....

-*-  Reprehensible Day  -*-

Thank you. 

Purple

Purple marches on,

Red hearts in a box

With bits of magazines

Kittens on her socks

Facets become assets

Before it breaks, it stretches

Bleach and long eyelashes,

Gifts, gifted and wretched

Check it out, and chase it

Red shoes, paper rabbit

Eye it, back it, face it,

Can’t see it, it’s all habit.

A collage, a broken mirror.

Bit of puppet, or a flower.

A view that becomes clearer

And more deadly by the hour.

Tucked into a box to keep

In ribbon, chains and wire.

Buried deep beneath a heap

Of invisible fire.

Mitch Hedberg

If funny were a 

flavor, I’d sprinkle you on 

everything I eat.

Infernal External/Internal

Pale blue swath

Of radiation

Death head moth

Of my frustration

Isotope weather

And personal climate

A poison feather

With rage behind it

Disaster and

An accident

Much faster than

Attack, descent!

It comes down, in

And out. No win.

( From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 )

Time

My death is done, and done, and yet to come;

My life is now, and  now, and yet is past.

A moment’s not the bounce of stick to drum,

All occurs within the temporal morass.

I miss someone I haven’t ever met.

I’m proud of something I have yet to do.

I’m sleeping though the sun has yet to set;

Our dream, tonight, in years, may come to you.

( From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 )

A Little One For The Oceans

Waters are churning.

                The sea is brimming with life,

      And shining like diamonds.

From ( A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 )

Obliterary Shifty-Foot

Can you write the tapping rain,

Or the cool and quiet gray?

What you forgot, that’s yet to come,

Or the eloquent refrain

Of the wheels within wheels

That make a world, a year, a day?

I can’t write the strength of hands.

Nor can I write the truth of will,

Nor the broken point of being.

Words are not for barren lands

Once in the heart but slowly spreading.

Yet I can’t help trying to roll them up that hill.

From (A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 )

Visuals

Drawing veins and wasted, vast empires

I learn about the nature of the edges

Of the steep dissatisfaction, and desire

To observe affecting wedges of satire.

A landscape or a portrait of the inside

Of a moment or a feeling or a story

Brings me to a point, a line and, then, a landslide,

Drawing fine, or stroking paint, 

For wine or glory.

(From A Loop Around The Sun, vol. 1 )

Pasenture, or Aum

Here’s to the unknown peace,

The unrevealed contentment,

To future attachments’ release,

To acceptance without an amendment.

Here’s to the moment that is,

That rolls throughout all, and all time;

Here’s to being, to this.

To the fall that is also the climb.

Here’s to perspective of past,

To wisdom that grows on it’s own,

To the role we exceed when we’re cast.

To, before we were born, how we shone.

(From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 )

Arrangements

I must pick a color, flower, song

For when I’m laid to rest;

For those among the living

Think I’ll care for how I’m dressed.

The mournful need direction, and

To believe the dead are pleased;

They’ll make arrangements fitting,

So their consciences are eased.

“It was just as she wanted,”

Is what they’ll say with pride,

But I’ll pick which color, flower, song

Their pleasure would provide.

(From the first volume of A Loop Around The Sun. )

Shameless (A Villanelle)

None of us are blameless.

All dance the villainelle,

And some of us are shameless.

Each creature, truly nameless,

Injured, sick or well,

None of us are blameless.

The fortunate are painless;

Shiny, dancing flappers, drinking...

Some of us are shameless.

Delightful fires, flameless,

Mistakes that fizzle, sinking...

None of us are blameless.

Like overcoming lameness,

Laugh at every threat of hell.

None of us are blameless.

Reject both cruelty and sameness,

As well as prude, judgmental thinking.

None of us are blameless -

And some of us are shameless.

International Relations

This twig will be my flag

This sky, my constitution.

The articles, my dress tag,

Each button, a resolution

And every dream, a theme

And every step, a statement

My whole life is the map,

And its border, its abatement.

Its lakes are all my curls and rings

Its rivers are my sleeping

Its mountains are my wrinkled sheets

State secrets, yarn I’m keeping

Houseplants are vast forests

The teapot spout, great falls.

Vast nations yet to be explored,

Neighbors, behind their walls.

( From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 )

Peaches

Peaches!

Oh, what a prize!

Each is

Made of sunrise.

(From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 )

Ode to Pure Wisdom

By so few am I sought

That I don’t try to be elusive.

And if seeking, (as you ought)

But with pride, I am collusive.

I’m born a seed in every heart,

Not fed by praise, or schooling,

And I always have a home, (I hope)

In every judge's ruling.

I’m rare in youth, I grow with time,

I’m exercised in patience, and

To Tibetan mountain tops they climb,

Just to glimpse my poor relations.

(From A Loop Around The Sun, vol. 1)

Feels Like Fall

      Cool Air

And wind chimes,

              I kick through dry, golden leaves

                        Piled on the sidewalk.

(From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1)

Let's hunker down for NaNoWriMo!

I'm slogging through the Scrivener tutorial. I have No Plot? No Problem! checked out from my local library. I'm well stocked on coffee. This should be fun. No better time than late October to start building a skeleton, eh? I just have to remember keep up with the writer's stretches. I'd hate to get a NaNoWriMo related injury ....

Pulled Muscle

Why surprise me so?

Connective tissue,

Sneaky and sadistic.

(From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1)

NaNoWriMo Badge, & A Poem About Architecture

Architecture

Shapes. All seem to have ninety degree angles.

I hunger for forms that aren’t squares, or rectangles...

Must be by design there’s no “abstract” complexity.

I have to be honest, Frank Lloyd Wright quite vexes me!

‘Modern’ should be ancient, organic, like Gehry
No fibonacci or nature in buildings, makes weary! 

Architects, change! Awake from your stupor.

Stop pulling your boxy ideas from your pooper.

Human Uni-Cycle Race of Karma

Brainstorming for NaNoWriMo is well underway. And now ....

From A Loop Around The Sun:

Human Uni-Cycle Race of Karma

Oh, feather of Ma’at, soul’s too damned fat.

Oh, crazy monkey,  you dance so funky.

Oh, artichoke heart, such a tiny little part

I need third eye drops. My ajna’s dunky.

My highest self is my inner wookie.

It’s a cosmic school, but I want to play hooky.

I drew a little fool and said “That, thou art.”

And my karmic wheel is a chocolate cookie.

My “speak-a-spell” is a joke, and spoke

Of  the gears on my cycle of time, that broke

On iTunes, I listen to the baktun chart

While chugging on a Vedic cherry coke.

So, when Orion is hanging upside-down, 

Zion is a booming gold-“mine” town, and

The Gemini twins tarot world apart

I use prayer cloth to polish my chakra crown

I once had a jaganath but I lost it, so 

I keep my ox-(Mc)Cart(ney) in my Lennon closet

‘Cuz Jesus and George, both “Hari’s son” are,

 And a Ring? O, infinite, nothing flaws it.

So, off I go and here I am

And Aleister Crowley’s on the Lam, and

Mother Hubbard and Jack Sprat went too far

Says the letter to Roman’s merry baby pram

So, read the pyramids by Braille!

And blow into the menhir’s sail

Asura nikandana, Rama dular!

I mistletoe the line with my crook and flail

At crops I have reaped, and which, now I sew

On the garments of enlightenment, with alchemy I know.

From each tiny grain of sand to each shining, distant star, Oh,

Like the mighty Anjanaya, I shrink, but then I grow.

Ferns and Spines

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

Ferns and Spines

Ferns. Spines.

Vertebrae and spores.

Curls and leaves and flanges,

Roots, stems and spinal cords.

Ferns made of bone

In the forests of the May,

Bones, green and supple,

In the bodies of the fey.

A Repost For A BFF (In my Imagine-nation)

A Response to your Alphabet

(for John Lennon)

Z is for Zimmerman, which we can plainly see

Y is for fork 

X is for Xee- xaw which we can plainly see

W is for Emily

V is for Vishnu

U is for you.

T is for intersection

S is for swerve as we can plainly see

R is for Paul

Q is for smoking as we can plainly see

P is for cannon

O is for Yoko

N is for San Francisco which has the crookedest street.

M is for Emily, who lives in San Francisco.

L  is for Dolly

J is for monkey

I is for icicle

H is for castle, which we can plainly see

G is for horse

F is for fork

E is  for binoculars, you’re right.

D is for dentist

C is for sushi. Not plastic.

B is for love.

A is for, A is for All the Above.

An Artist, Inspired

From A Loop Around the Sun, Vol. 1:

An Artist, Inspired 

Above his head, the sky opens

He has shown his heart, with portal eyes

Beneath his feet, the earth trembles

He has asked, and watches for replies

That come, welcome, and no surprise

As sure as ripening fruit

Just as textured, and with such a weight

A gift is pushed on through it

All, a word, a stroke, we anticipate

Without knowing we have been, and it was late.

I love short poems the best

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

A Brief Request To History’s Great Poets

Oh, don’t be so long winded, please,

You greats, whose works are so inspiring.

Words that weave and braid and tease,

Drag tight, wet knots that I find tiring.

Just make them dodge, and wave their banners, 

Colored ribbons, rippling, fragrant

But pity me, and mind your manners;

Some of them wear out their welcome, flagrant!

NaNoWriMo & Colored Lights

NaNoWriMo: I'm IN!! (I say that every October, but this year, I signed up.) It's very exciting, and I am fired up to do the prep. While you are patiently (THANK YOU) waiting for the serial blogging of the Blunderland sequel here, and for "Reprehensible Day," here is another tasty treat from my year-long poetry project, A Loop Around The Sun:

Ode To The Reflection Of Colored Lights On The Wall

Motionless, we pirouette,

Not clouds, but just as subtle.

We’ve glowing, wordless etiquette,

 Tints, vivid. Shadows puddle.

We blend; we are self - similar,

Not trying to be admired.

Two dimensions, yet calicular

Ungraspable glass, cold fired.

Ten Miles North

I love this one. I'll consider entering it in a poetry contest someday. From A Loop Around The Sun.

Ten Miles North

I remember, on the palace grounds of paper, finely 

lined,

Arcs of grass, small, bright birds, and a deep 

whirlpool to wind.

With a candle, in a floating tower,  I claim my liquid 

prize -

Fifth or fourth, I’m ten miles north;

I work, I’m alder size.

I remember, near the path of stars and formulas, I 

find

A silent quote, a wordless note, a lens that must be 

shined

With a gesture in my empty hand, I laugh to I realize

No smoke or sword defeats the hoard,

I work, I’m alder size.

NaNoWriMo

This may be the year.... (I say that every October.)
Stay tuned for info about an upcoming short story: Reprehensible Day.
Here's another poem from A Loop Around The Sun, Vol 1:

The Ablest 

Lightness, strength and fun and truth,

Innate wisdom born of youth.

Intelligence and confidence,

Knowing what they want from this,

The four of them, like beacons, shine ...

Then lose their way, these friends of mine.

"Stair Keys" Monday

From A Loop Around The Sun:

Stair Keys

They laid secrets on my soul

Los, I’m not stair keys, Dale. Lathe.

Secrets mean that we are old.

I had to do as I was told

I judge myself and buckle under

Then forget, look back and wonder

How it happened that I lost it

When I had it, baked and frosted

While consequences barely pricked ‘em 

When they laid it on the victim 

Los, I’m not stair keys, Dale. Lathe 

And for what they did, though I forgave

I’m still paying, though I focus

Elsewhere from their hocus pocus

The world’s afloat in it’s unfairness

In its keys and in their stairness

Los, I’m roof, I’m only feral

With  limes,  low and in my barrel 

We all buckle for survival

Press a knuckle to your eyeball

Press your head against your bible

Or whatever is your idol.

I know secrets.

A Two Verse Late-Night Delight

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

Shapes

The fog’s so thick, I barely make out shapes

Of memories, through other people’s eyes.

This life is but a shade of what it apes,

Its colors, dim and vague, although it tries.

I know life for a metaphor of more,

But the specifics are just so hard to pin down!

And that, of course, is just what it is for;

We miss the queen, so dazzled by the gown.

A Bright One....

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

Sun, brushing lilacs,

    Fortune my mornings gently, 

             And daffodil me.

The "Title Track" from the poetry book: A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1

A Loop Around The Sun

Look at her going, the blue one,

Braiding her loops ‘round the sun!

She’s dense and she squeezes the living

Into bodies, each life she is giving.

And she winds and dances and spins...

There are waves! There are stones, trees, and winds.

All who live and ride on her must eat,

And, so, taste of fear, learn defeat.

But there’s green and there’s gray and there’s rain.

There’s a bug on a leaf, and there’s grain.

She grows mountains of rock, she grows lakes;

She grows cactus, seahorses and snakes.

Look at her, tiny and turning

Look how all who live on her are learning.

No perspective on how they are one,

As they dance in a loop ‘round the sun.

A short one from ALATS, V1

Find A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 here.  (Blunderland, here.)

I apologize

To myself for everything

I let slip, unwise.

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

For Lyon (5 verses)

I couldn’t take a drink of tea today,

Past events were swirling in its depths.

They drew me into colors anyway,

In pictures only, not as if a guest.

But I saw us all and kept my vision true -

(In your name, for Tirzah, and Disorder)

A life so brief, yet from heights, such a view!

But fragile flesh is such a faulty mortar.

A time of lives that were a tangled knot

Of colored floss on stone at Clothos’ feet,

Added just what to tapestry they wrought,

When you and Anthropos’ blade came to meet?

Well done, to finish all your work so quick!

And thanks for what I can’t, exactly name.

Those moments, colors, strong, and deep and thick,

Stain my heart with honor, and remain.

Well done, to finish all you’re work so soon!

And thanks for what I can’t, exactly, name!

Those moments into part of me are hewn,

And stain my heart with honor, and remain.

I finished a short story last night. (A real shorty, at five pages!) You'll find it posted here when it's edited, hopefully tomorrow. Stay tuned!

Here's another from A Loop Around The Sun:

I escape at night

            To adventures and journeys

                                      That teach me myself.

Working on a short-story, "Reprehensible Day." More to come on this soon. "Fearless Reader" is still in possession of the Blunderland sequel, in progress. More to come on that soon, too. :)

Here's another from A Loop Around The Sun, Vol 1.  
(This one is a "Fearless Reader" fave, by the way!)

My Problem

I regret my own regression

When you ask me every question

To solve me like an equation

And assert your own persuasion

You don’t do it assist,

But you endlessly persist

To try to get to the bottom of me,

So that you can feel above me.

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

Peeking Out

When we lost the past, we lost the tree line

And we’re lost out in the open

With our gadgets, in our hurries

Oblivious. Just coping.

Distracted, from a pace

That would have horrified ancestors.

Veneer, shattered nostalgia

Worldwide, the present festers

And there really is no future,

And Johnny Rotten knew it.

His non-future is the present

That we could have saved, but blew it.

Sometimes it’s scarier to peek out of the rabbit hole.

Another from A Loop Around The Sun:

Squiggles

If events could be seen in their cycles in time,

They’d be scales of squiggles of fractals that rhyme

In a dance, the way trees in the wind move, to speak.

Although some events would, of course, stand out unique.

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1
(Scroll down ... four verses. An absolute favorite :)

Pimento! More Pie!

I will never again allow myself to feel humiliation,

Or feel enraged surprise at the behavior of my nation,

And I will try to be objective when my ego feels assaulted,

(Though the temple of my vanity is fragile, and high vaulted)

And I detach from corporal pleasures, whose conclusion is forgone;

On every single clock, I read ultima forsan,

But I live on.

So, the destroyers of the earth will nevermore inspire my ire.

And, though the greedy and ambitious press world deep in the mire,

Joy and pain, injustice, suffering, pride, are temporary, fleeting; 

This world is not the world, it’s just a book that we are reading.

Yes, the weak are prey and yes, the strong, more often cruel,  

But truth’s moment is eternal, and in the lotus hides a jewel, 

And fires cool.

We’re not our names, not our bodies, not our lives and not our stations.

We’re not our thoughts, righteous opinions, educations, situations...  

And those for whom this world is just a crucible of hurt,

And those for whom it is a trough of blood, and cash and dirt,

And we, those in the middle, who would help with half a chance,

Are insignificant to mighty Shiva’s dance.

We are the ants!

Eternity, immortal, extemporaneous 

In light, every one of us, a point of consciousness.

Everything that ever happens or has happened, happens now;

Time is the whole, vast field, not the line made by the plow.

And we, all of us deluded, play the roles we chose to try,

So let’s keep our sense of humor before we (change our clothing) die.

Pimento, more pie!

Initial feedback from "Fearless Reader" on the Blunderland sequel is positive! :)  This is very promising.

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 :

Wandering, aimless,

My mind will find a

Path through all my opinions.

From A Loop Around The Sun:

Some days are opaque,

Like jade, or pearls, or pewter.

Some, translucent jewels.

I have delivered the "rough" first half of the Blunderland sequel unto "Fearless Reader," (Thanks, Trish) and will be making a decision soon regarding the serial posting of chapters here. From A Loop Around The Sun, in the meantime ....

Glass

The room, the time, what I have on,

Verbs and objects, grinding, hissing,

My underwater lexicon.

I know all this; what am I missing?

Face-value, truth, communication,

Puns, intended. Truth? Omitted.

Asleep, awake, checkpoint, way-station,

Silver.  Glass. 

Measured, 

Well fitted.

News: Re: Blunderland Sequel!

I am considering publishing the draft (what I have so far) of the Blunderland sequel here, in serial novel format, for fun and motivation purposes, as well as to blow you all away on a regular basis. Because I would love doing that.

As promised, here's another piece from A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1.  I like this one....

Little Buggers

Thoughts that swarm and sting me,

No peace do they bring me.

Seeking future is just fantasy,

And memory’s a disease to me.

I should have thoughts, but they molest me ...

Thoughts have me instead, and best me!

They buzz like a shorted cable,

And lap sugar from my table

Where I’ve spilled among the crumbs.

(When swarmed with thoughts, I am all thumbs,

And I’m all feet, and I’m all knees,

But I’m really not just these.

I’m much more, but I forget it,

When my chattering head has hid it.)

Where do the little buggers come from,

With their endless, buzzing hum?

It's been forever! Bad blogger! Bad blogger! Anyway.... 

A Loop Around The Sun, Vol 1, the first bit of my "One poem per day for an entire year" project, is now available for Kindle on Amazon. It's short, and very sweet, fifty or so poems, none of them very lengthy. 

Also... Good news! Hats and horns! Blunderland is now on sale for Kindle: 99 cents! Tell your Kindle packin' friends to come along!

I PROMISE,  hereby, to blog more faithfully. In token, here is the first poem from Loop.

The Stairs Outside

I forgot to sit on the stairs outside today,

And admire pink edges, ragged, high and far,

To sit with naked birches, thin and cold, 

And the fading source of warmth that is our star.

I forgot to breathe in deeply, air that’s cool,

And exhale, slowly, breath that’s sweet and warm,

I forgot to smile, and pause, and to connect,

And take in the mountains’ green and shadowed form.

I forgot to sit on the stairs outside today,

I’ll be grateful for a second chance tomorrow.

I’ll breathe in the edges pink, the air, and knowledge

That my own life is something that I just borrow.