endover epitaph

How do we roll over?

Is this the end?

Is it over?

How to say it all

in one day:

in the darkness

where we only feign sleep

How the coffee tastes
better before
they get up

How cold, her egg
his cereal

their bagels

How the words choked off:
Please look over the choices
keeping us safe

How the rain on the car

or the sun on the walk
seemed unending

How the motocross racer
with the most wins, passed,
rolling end-overs

Endlessly.



In honor of those who truly take risks, do their best, fight the odds to win, and love their careers, families and friends. 
In honor of Nathan Woods, who died this week in a practice jump before the World Off Road Championship Series in Calif.  He won the WORCS twice, over all other riders. He wore the tatoo of a photograph of his infant son's face on his forearm. His wife and two young sons are in my prayers. Photo: courtesy of google

conciousness

Sunset at shoreline
roaring even after dark
sunrise's story.

pathfinding

How long does it take to find a path to travel?


1) Pick a destination: forward.

2) Obtain a roadmap: experiences vs. unknowns.

3) Choose routes: 70 mph?, Yosemite and Grand Canyon?, visits to kindergarten buddy and sisters?, downhill and straight highways?, rocky, wet, overgrown, unmaintained? known roads and pre-mapped courses?

4) Organize gear: money, map, car, bike, foot, phone, bedding, food, water, friend.

5) Take action: take a step.

…….. 1)  Choose a Destination:
                                                                          now

Photo: J.T.Giese

Winter Ripe

Persimmon branches

honey heavy, suspended.

Turning brown untouched.



Patience for my Patients

This is not any love song,
nor any psalm, for me.

A 20-something’s rush to the office store,
replace the paper to write a score.
A truck turns, and broad-sides his legs,
rescuers drag him, footless and burning,
not to sing, not to beg.
Not a love song, nor a psalm
…..of a poet - not better off dead.

In a still, lone bed of a rural ICU
a patient with a lung-implant
gasps a poem I do not know.
The Rag is passed and the new ear listens.
Is it a better love song or psalm
sought after the author's gone?

From a month spent in coma from a stroke:
springs one man, with one wife,
a universe-city of students, twin boys full of life,
to teach, to talk, to hug, to walk,
to reach:
only one-armed not,
but for a love song, and a psalm for all.

She cuts on her arm, not for physical pain,
but release of heart’s balm on her psychic longing,
of a new moment dawning,
again…not better off dead.

Not that I cannot live without you,
today.
But knowing I can see you again
tomorrow,
is a love song
and a psalm
for a better-off day.

Quixotic

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qlf_F1lVen0

Phoenix fire burns down,
swimming upstream no longer
riding waterfalls

Just a Cat

For now, just think of me
as your cat.

I’ve always wanted
to be a cat:

sleeping all day, fiercely independent,

climbing trees or curling up

in a drooling frenzy

of oblivion in your lap.

Think not,
that we'd paid the bills,
nor of the questions
we might ask of tomorrow,
upon waking with eyes wide open.

Deny the averted smile,
the downward gaze,
the deep sigh
so easily shielded by our arms.

Tonight for this moment,
just think of me as your cat,

full of rumbling affirmations,

shedding softness and warmth,

grinning behind Cheshire whiskers

for you alone.