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Month: September 2022


The winds are blowing’ off the sea,
They’re heading for the shore;
A path that’s sure to leave in wake
Destruction to the core.

There’s nothing much to do but wait,
No stopping what’s ahead;
Flee to safer harbors or
Confront the watershed.

Your destiny’s not in your hands,
So many hazards lie
Outside the doorstep of your life
Beyond your reach and eye.

Buckle up, enjoy the ride,
And hope the carnie’s hand
Instructs a steady bearing on
The route for you he’s planned.
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Simpler Time

The Cat in the Hat
Stands on my desk
With Gumby beside him,
A cartoon burlesque.

In company keep
With a pushier of keys
To elicit expression,
On a mystical breeze.

The artifacts of childhood
Brought into play 
To ground and give footing
In each subsequent day.

To contrast the muddled
That the ages have brought,
Reaffirming the cardinal
With which I was wrought.

Stripped of veneer
The bedrock exposed
By the simpler times 
The icons disclosed.
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Ready or Not

The spots are all gone
From the doe’s twin fawn
As the summer has passed,
Along with time’s cast.

A couple months back
Were a tiny two-pack
That nursed for their meals
With tiny fawn squeals.

As the summer progressed
Their spots have regressed
And they’ve grown nearly tall
As their mother’s lean sprawl.

Now feeding alone
And nearly full grown,
Prepared for the living
In fields unforgiving.

She’ll leave them to fend,
Independent lives spend,
I hoped they’ve learned well
At their mother’s farewell 

She’s done all she can
For her twosome, her clan;
On their shoulders now rests
All of nature’s great tests.
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Quite a day I’m having,
So much it seems to do
Each day upon awak’ning
Upon the morning dew.

Laundry through the cycles,
The wash and dry and place;
A canine that needs walking
Or in his case, a race.

Then cat and dog together
Must have their food restored;
Topping off the water,
Their needs can’t be ignored.

Coffee and the socials
Call out each day out dawn
For postings of my genius
Where on the screen are drawn.

In or out some breakfast
Maintaining the physique
Of once a vibrant body
That now is near antique.

Then gather up a novel,
Embrace the fiction found;
Imagined lives and exploits
Beyond the one I’m bound.

Yoga stretching efforts
Then on to exercise
Upon an apparatus,
My heart to energize.

Then moments of reflection,
Conversing with the Lord
For benediction granted
And all of life’s rewards.

Further in the evening,
A drink to ease the soul;
Relax the walls dividing
Me from the greater whole.

When daylight is diminished,
Sleep beckons to its hold,
I drift into the ether
In dreams the days unfold.
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Triscuits and cheese,
Muenster’s the best,
Arrayed on a napkin
For the afternoon fest.

Precisely ten crackers,
Two slices of cheese
Torn into ten
Then placed as I please.

Ritually staged
Each day about one -
Obsessive, perhaps,
But the way that it’s done.

Consumed at a pace
That’s leisurely spent
To drive away hunger
And need circumvent.

These days that are passing
Contently are borne
Like a favorite old shirt
That is tattered and torn.
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It’s Sunday morning I should be in a church
With the lost and the famished who’re left in the lurch;
Seeking the whys and the reasons and search
Through chapels on knees or on pews where they perch.

For answers to questions forever they’ve borne,
From the preachers and choirs and Gabriel’s’ horn.
Their souls in a torrent of confusion and shorn
From the fabric of hope with which they were born.

While solace and comfort may in the church thrive
Through the congress with others who’ve come forth to shrive,
No answers to questions for which they all strive,
Why they’ve come into being and how they’ll survive,

Won’t be found in the chapels on knees or in pews,
But on blustery winds and in clouds full of clues;
That hold all the answers, serving all as their muse
To reflect in each soul their perspective and views. 
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Fall Furnace

The sounds of winter falling
Came ‘round this way today;
The furnace fan was blowing
To ease the chill away.

It’s been a half year passing
Since last the furnace blew,
But successive days at forty,
Soon the chilling winds accrued.

The bracing winds of winter
Are welcomed by my kind;
Invigorating blood flow,
It stimulates the mind.

It brings a sense of sadness,
A loss of sorts I’d say;
This passing of the seasons,
The leaves now in decay.

There’ll be warmer days a-coming,
Winter’s not arrived,
But the warning shot’s been fired
When the furnace is revived.
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Little Man

He and I have had some words
Over things he did or said;’
I read to him the riot act,
This day he’ll rue and dread.”

The fellow at a table near
Was holding court with friends;
Complaining ‘bout just everything,
The means to meet his ends.

You know the sort, he’s smarter than
Most anybody found
Upon the earth or universe,
The king of all he’s crowned.

Whether it be politics,
Opinion or a fact;
The way his neighbor’s plow and sew,
Or the workers he has sacked,

His ego driven muscles flex
With power he perceives
Is his alone to judge and doom,
As blowhard he’s achieved.

I sat and overheard this lout
Throughout a breakfast meal
And wondered why his table mates
Just listened to him spiel.

A little man with little clout,
Posturing his pose;
A little man with little else
I guess I would suppose.
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A cupboard full of cereal,
I’ll breakfast on just one;
But choices make it difficult
To get this project done.

Oats and wheat and barley-corn,
Flaked and shaped and ground;
Packaged up and colorful
In boxes they are found.

Produced and packed like kibble found
Within your dog’s purview,
Smashed and shaped and pressed to form,
This cereal I’ll chew.

I can be an athlete bound
For glory and respect,
If I partake of certain brands,
A choice has that effect.

Another’s promise, longer life,
The nutrients within
Tweaking every body part
Like a well tuned mandolin.

But I’ll select the one I find
Adorned with sugar grains
That offset any earthy taste
That in the box remains.

In the bowl and down the hatch,
The morning thus embarks;
WIth calories sustaining me
 Until the day grows dark.
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Chargers,  chargers everywhere
In every open port;
Plugged in and drawing power
For items, every sort.

In a kitchen outlet,
By the couch and chair;
Another’s in the bathroom,
And even by the stair.

Every Apple product
Produced is there displayed,
Recharging up its juices
Around the house arrayed

So many drawing power,
The lighting’s been reduced;
Demanding so much power -
More power than’s produced.

When the cycle’s ended,
Each item’s fully charged;
I’ll disengage the outlets,
Their duty been discharged.

Then walk within the forest
Comforted in stride
With knowledge I’m connected
To others worldwide.
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