Anchored in the stream of life?
Or, easily carried by currents
Like a pebble battered
By a downpour's raging runoffs?
To end up far from a solid home,
Weathered down to a tiny core
That might one day
Be that irritation
In someone's shoe...
31 August 2015
30 August 2015
P.o.t.D. 8/30/15, second attempt: "Eulogy for a snowflake"
Ah! Such a delicate little snowflake,
Dissolves swiftly away upon our brutal touch
Of inner fire, human desire, and grasping hopes to acquire!
As the glaciers recede, the mountain tops are laid bare,
And Poles sink into the ocean waters -
We become such ugly tyrants, evil masters,
Sealing our doom,
Like that poor minuscule crystal
Became fated to lose all finessed detailed
When it drifted into our hula hoop's room.
Dissolves swiftly away upon our brutal touch
Of inner fire, human desire, and grasping hopes to acquire!
As the glaciers recede, the mountain tops are laid bare,
And Poles sink into the ocean waters -
We become such ugly tyrants, evil masters,
Sealing our doom,
Like that poor minuscule crystal
Became fated to lose all finessed detailed
When it drifted into our hula hoop's room.
P.o.t.D. 8/30/15, first attempt: "chaos"
Delicate snowflake
Dissolves swiftly upon touch -
Ugly tyrants, we.
Dissolves swiftly upon touch -
Ugly tyrants, we.
29 August 2015
P.o.t.D. 8/29/15: "birthday haiku?"
Another year passed
With its failures and success,
Wisdom gained, joys learned.
With its failures and success,
Wisdom gained, joys learned.
28 August 2015
P.o.t.D. 8/28/15: "Blind Contour"
Without looking,
I trace upon the paper
The line that my eyes pick out
From along my subject's surface -
One continuous path followed
Falteringly, with flaws galore -
And yet, some shapes and surprises
Are teased out of the process,
Easily overlooked and dismissed
By what I thought was there.
I trace upon the paper
The line that my eyes pick out
From along my subject's surface -
One continuous path followed
Falteringly, with flaws galore -
And yet, some shapes and surprises
Are teased out of the process,
Easily overlooked and dismissed
By what I thought was there.
27 August 2015
P.o.t.D. 8/27/15: "First Day of School"
Butterflies in my gut, perhaps?
Or worms of worry, eating serenity?
First class starts in two hours,
And I feel just a bit unprepared.
Not sure how strict they'll be
About the drawings I'm to produce,
Or the time to devote outside of class...
Worried that computer problems at home
May tangle up my time,
Send me to a lab as yet unknown.
Not sure if work will interfere,
With its long hours, late at night
Making it hard to produce during daylight.
Some frustration around finances, too...
Waiting for money to appear
That was promised last weekend -
Even then, it may not be quite enough.
Why am I taking this class?
...Honestly?
To try to better my skills,
To become a computer worker,
To back out of the dead end
I seem to have found myself in:
Retail workers are a dime a dozen,
And the tutors have no students.
I do want to go to this class,
Yet I feel that I'm rushing in.
Or worms of worry, eating serenity?
First class starts in two hours,
And I feel just a bit unprepared.
Not sure how strict they'll be
About the drawings I'm to produce,
Or the time to devote outside of class...
Worried that computer problems at home
May tangle up my time,
Send me to a lab as yet unknown.
Not sure if work will interfere,
With its long hours, late at night
Making it hard to produce during daylight.
Some frustration around finances, too...
Waiting for money to appear
That was promised last weekend -
Even then, it may not be quite enough.
Why am I taking this class?
...Honestly?
To try to better my skills,
To become a computer worker,
To back out of the dead end
I seem to have found myself in:
Retail workers are a dime a dozen,
And the tutors have no students.
I do want to go to this class,
Yet I feel that I'm rushing in.
26 August 2015
P.o.t.D. 8/26/15: "Listening..."
Tin can for a drum,
With a new friend playing bass
On upright washtub...
Making music any way we know how,
To beat out the angels and demons
Hiding behind our crinkled brows...
What horrible torture became me,
That I now sing off-key -
An octave and a third
Below what used to be.
It seems that now I mimic
Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, and Lou Reed -
Mind you, not that bad of a company.
I tried to play recorder as a child,
And gave my early years at college
To walking and playing riffs on harmonica
Until I bent it forever, by sitting upon it.
Yet, no instrument do I claim finesse upon.
So, I guess I must be a fickle critic...
Forever discriminating what I hear
With what I hold oh so dear.
I claim no song written today,
Or even good metric talents,
To line up words to funky beats...
Some times I like to throw out some rhymes -
Influence, perhaps, of Pink Floyd and all their lines.
Still, no forced rules today,
No attempt to rhyming play.
I wonder aloud,
How music lifts my dark clouds,
When I just listen.
With a new friend playing bass
On upright washtub...
Making music any way we know how,
To beat out the angels and demons
Hiding behind our crinkled brows...
What horrible torture became me,
That I now sing off-key -
An octave and a third
Below what used to be.
It seems that now I mimic
Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, and Lou Reed -
Mind you, not that bad of a company.
I tried to play recorder as a child,
And gave my early years at college
To walking and playing riffs on harmonica
Until I bent it forever, by sitting upon it.
Yet, no instrument do I claim finesse upon.
So, I guess I must be a fickle critic...
Forever discriminating what I hear
With what I hold oh so dear.
I claim no song written today,
Or even good metric talents,
To line up words to funky beats...
Some times I like to throw out some rhymes -
Influence, perhaps, of Pink Floyd and all their lines.
Still, no forced rules today,
No attempt to rhyming play.
I wonder aloud,
How music lifts my dark clouds,
When I just listen.
25 August 2015
P.o.t.D. 8/25/15: "too much stuff"
Lost in this town's crowd,
With simple lives out of reach -
Options beget fears.
Does that even make sense?
Can people see the portents?
Probably not, being so busy
That it's tough to sit and breathe...
With simple lives out of reach -
Options beget fears.
Does that even make sense?
Can people see the portents?
Probably not, being so busy
That it's tough to sit and breathe...
24 August 2015
P.o.t.D. 8/24/15: "Where Is the Art?"
a mumble and a stumble,
i then take a brief tumble.
unable to digest some truth,
i feel like a broken tooth -
pain zapping through me, forsooth!
in desperation to get the deed done,
i write haikus,
or maybe i'll just rhyme some?
then, noted, archie writing style?
...but there's still shifted punctuation, hmm?
feels like some sort of surreal act -
this is not a poem, yet it tries.
who can tell that what i write
might still separate truths from lies?
under every line, a scene I do draw
that seems like fluffy stuff which money buys -
"trying too hard!" he will sing
and i shan't reply, like the humble mice.
This week begins another journey,
A second foray into visual arts..?
A class on visual illustration,
In preparation for a degree in game design...
Unlearn what mind sees,
Teach hands to follow eyes, to
Trace reality.
i then take a brief tumble.
unable to digest some truth,
i feel like a broken tooth -
pain zapping through me, forsooth!
in desperation to get the deed done,
i write haikus,
or maybe i'll just rhyme some?
then, noted, archie writing style?
...but there's still shifted punctuation, hmm?
feels like some sort of surreal act -
this is not a poem, yet it tries.
who can tell that what i write
might still separate truths from lies?
under every line, a scene I do draw
that seems like fluffy stuff which money buys -
"trying too hard!" he will sing
and i shan't reply, like the humble mice.
This week begins another journey,
A second foray into visual arts..?
A class on visual illustration,
In preparation for a degree in game design...
Unlearn what mind sees,
Teach hands to follow eyes, to
Trace reality.
23 August 2015
P.o.t.D. 8/23/15: "On the Death of Romance?"
Many years of my life have been spent
Living solitary and single.
I suspect love's inspiration went
South, when no ladies asked to mingle...
Living solitary and single.
I suspect love's inspiration went
South, when no ladies asked to mingle...
22 August 2015
21 August 2015
P.o.t.D. 8/21/15: "Why, God?"
Men created Gods,
Hoping to explain
Powers that they could not fathom.
That's my first theory,
But I think it has some flaws -
Like anything created
By imperfect, incomplete men.
I believe, that we want safe shelter,
Sanctuary from the chaos
Of the massively independent universe.
We want so much
Just to belong,
To feel a part of,
To feel we have a great purpose,
To feel connected to it all.
I depend on God(s),
On Powers greater than I,
To trust in causes and effects
That guide my actions
To help the greater good.
There are still times,
When I react out of fear,
Trying to snatch and grab
All that I can from the show.
Let that greed leave me, now.
Also, I can not predict
My fellows' actions,
As they may not play
By the rulebook that I use.
May that hate..?
Dissipate?
Is yearning for polite society -
And also carnal passions -
Are those desires to be with others
Fueled by Suffering,
In the Buddhist sense of the word?
What do I need,
To find quiet peace?
Right actions,
Some times self-sacrificing...
Interactions,
Some times quite unexpected...
A sense of direction,
Some times hidden by minutiae...
I rarely try to bludgeon you
With details of the God(s) I use -
Yet there they are,
Lurking in the background of my superego:
Scientific models and explanations;
Mythos Greek, Norse, Indian, and more;
My Catholic upbringing,
My current Zen Buddhist and Taoist leanings,
Modern mythos like Gaiman's Endless
And urban legends and society's group ethics;
And just my plain past experiences
Of things done right and things done wrong.
Why are there God(s)?
To bring order to the chaos,
To give sanctuary for the wounded,
To guide the group consciousness,
To make our time on this blue pebble
Just a little bit more bearable.
Hoping to explain
Powers that they could not fathom.
That's my first theory,
But I think it has some flaws -
Like anything created
By imperfect, incomplete men.
I believe, that we want safe shelter,
Sanctuary from the chaos
Of the massively independent universe.
We want so much
Just to belong,
To feel a part of,
To feel we have a great purpose,
To feel connected to it all.
I depend on God(s),
On Powers greater than I,
To trust in causes and effects
That guide my actions
To help the greater good.
There are still times,
When I react out of fear,
Trying to snatch and grab
All that I can from the show.
Let that greed leave me, now.
Also, I can not predict
My fellows' actions,
As they may not play
By the rulebook that I use.
May that hate..?
Dissipate?
Is yearning for polite society -
And also carnal passions -
Are those desires to be with others
Fueled by Suffering,
In the Buddhist sense of the word?
What do I need,
To find quiet peace?
Right actions,
Some times self-sacrificing...
Interactions,
Some times quite unexpected...
A sense of direction,
Some times hidden by minutiae...
I rarely try to bludgeon you
With details of the God(s) I use -
Yet there they are,
Lurking in the background of my superego:
Scientific models and explanations;
Mythos Greek, Norse, Indian, and more;
My Catholic upbringing,
My current Zen Buddhist and Taoist leanings,
Modern mythos like Gaiman's Endless
And urban legends and society's group ethics;
And just my plain past experiences
Of things done right and things done wrong.
Why are there God(s)?
To bring order to the chaos,
To give sanctuary for the wounded,
To guide the group consciousness,
To make our time on this blue pebble
Just a little bit more bearable.
20 August 2015
19 August 2015
P.o.t.D. 8/19/15: "sun spots"
a solitary drop
upon my scalp
where once a bump annoyed.
unsure if i'm blessed
by birds above,
or rain struggling to arrive
in the sweltering summer heat.
is this a Chinese Water Torture
concocted by Mother Nature?
"Just give hime one drop,
and fuel the possible paranoias..."
after many nights of pressure pains,
the bump was skillfully cut away
by my family physician;
yet now I am troubled by
"Other Spots"
appearing around my skin.
too many long walks;
in heat, cold, sun, rain;
through the heart of Texas
without great protection -
almost mocking the weather
and all the havoc it can bring.
so, now I carry an umbrella,
and a tube of Neosporin,
but no sunscreen yet,
and very rarely, a hat.
I suspect, in my foolish Lone Star heart,
that I am a worshipper
of this weather that comes down so, so hot.
upon my scalp
where once a bump annoyed.
unsure if i'm blessed
by birds above,
or rain struggling to arrive
in the sweltering summer heat.
is this a Chinese Water Torture
concocted by Mother Nature?
"Just give hime one drop,
and fuel the possible paranoias..."
after many nights of pressure pains,
the bump was skillfully cut away
by my family physician;
yet now I am troubled by
"Other Spots"
appearing around my skin.
too many long walks;
in heat, cold, sun, rain;
through the heart of Texas
without great protection -
almost mocking the weather
and all the havoc it can bring.
so, now I carry an umbrella,
and a tube of Neosporin,
but no sunscreen yet,
and very rarely, a hat.
I suspect, in my foolish Lone Star heart,
that I am a worshipper
of this weather that comes down so, so hot.
18 August 2015
P.o.t.D. 8/18/15: "Here's Johnny!"
My spark lies dormant,
Flat-lined by bipolar meds:
"All work and no play..."
Flat-lined by bipolar meds:
"All work and no play..."
17 August 2015
"Before the Fall" (P.o.t.D. 8/17/15)
Classes start real soon;
Unsure how they'll be paid for...
"It will all work out?"
Unsure how they'll be paid for...
"It will all work out?"
15 August 2015
"Combo Dinner" (P.o.t.D. 8/15/15)
Barbacoa, guisada, and avocado -
A trifecta to spawn many tacos -
Is complemented by rice and refried beans
To create a tasty dinner
Settling well within my gut...
"Ah! Arrandas! Awesome as always!"
A trifecta to spawn many tacos -
Is complemented by rice and refried beans
To create a tasty dinner
Settling well within my gut...
"Ah! Arrandas! Awesome as always!"
14 August 2015
"Game of War Fumble" (P.o.t.D. 8/14/15)
Thousands lost today,
Because I forgot my shield...
Time to rebuild troops.
Because I forgot my shield...
Time to rebuild troops.
04 August 2015
03 August 2015
"To Be..." (P.o.t.D. 8/3/15)
Be open.
Be kind.
Be loving.
Be free...
From suffering,
From "blinds",
From attachments...
Be at One,
With All around.
Be at peace -
With mind sans sound.
Breathe.
Be.
Be kind.
Be loving.
Be free...
From suffering,
From "blinds",
From attachments...
Be at One,
With All around.
Be at peace -
With mind sans sound.
Breathe.
Be.
01 August 2015
"Is not..." (P.o.t.D. 8/1/15)
This...
Is not.
A poem seen
By all I know,
Gathering comments,
So few and far between -
Which begs the question,
"If it is not,
Then why write,
When naught
Read?"
Is not.
A poem seen
By all I know,
Gathering comments,
So few and far between -
Which begs the question,
"If it is not,
Then why write,
When naught
Read?"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
