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The Journey to the West

Though we journey to the West We pray to the East More or less that's the way Each day begins and ends It’s a tale everyone ...

Sunday, April 24, 2022

A Mind for Mulch


What I tried but failed

To explain to my wife

Is that of the various things

I have come to truly believe

Over the last decade of life

Composting turns out

To play a key part in 

What goes round the bend

To the next part

Vital like sex

The same mixing

Of like like and unlike

Whatever turns up next in

The three card monte of life

Saturday, April 23, 2022

The Second Phase of Spring

The confetti begins

The second phase of spring

When the tulips have burst

On the scene

The cherry is almost ready

While the magnolia petals

Have surrendered in number

Supine on the lawn

It’s all new and almost over

At the same time and

Li Shang Yin shudders

With delight




Tuesday, April 12, 2022

It's a Very Weimar World

 These days it seems
It's a very Weimar world
Poised on disaster's brink  
An era for scams and shell games
And for screwball comedy
As my brother reminds me
A la Lubitsch and Chaplin
But don't you just wince
When you remember how 
The plot unraveled last time

* * * * *

This is the last poem I intend to publish on the Lampoetry blog, at least for a while.  Please feel free to make yourself at home with all the other stuff I've shared here over the last 10 years.  Mi casa es su casa, speaking virtually, that is, here in this little corner of the metaverse. 

In the meantime, I have taken up a new residence online, on the Apology blog, which can be found right here, and this blog post is intended to serve as the baton pass, from one URL to another, as much like a hermit crab, me and my avatar scramble to a carapace nearby, and the shell game continues, at least for a little while. 

Monday, April 11, 2022

For the Star Magnolia on the Front Lawn

Every April 
The Star Magnolia 
Lights up the stage 
With its brief aria 
Performed in reverse 
In a spotlight of shade 
It reaches the high notes 
Before falling in a brocade 
Across the face of the lawn



Sunday, February 27, 2022

The Germination Song

Well before I saw the first bud of the year

Had begun to open

I heard the first plink

Of the germination song


You know spring first

By the sounds rising

In the back yard

The dogs barking 

Amidst the rising chorus

Of birdsong

It won’t be long now


And I swear I can

Hear the gears turning

Deep in the soil

As the year begins

To sing along


Out of sight the gears

Of the new year have begun

To turn in the soil


Things coming along

The germination song

It won’t be long now


#haiku #germination

Saturday, February 12, 2022

A Few Words (revised) on the Hope for a Style More Gnomic

 I’d like to learn

To speak more naturally

As does the gnomon

By means of shadow

In direct translation

Of the sun


On intimate terms

With time as well

Its passing duly noted

In every utterance


Grasping at words

Fleet as light as they

Rocket through air

Yet land precisely

Upon dial or page

 

Aspiring to a gnomic style 

Is a mere tautology

And therein lies the joke

To be both pithy and redundant

Reveals the double sided

Nature of truth


A Few Words Written In the Hope for a Style More Gnomic

 I’d like to learn 
To speak naturally
As does the gnomon
By means of shadow
And in direct translation
Of the sun

On intimate terms
With time as well
Its passing duly noted
In every utterance
As each line falls
Upon dial or page

To grasp at words
As fleet as light
In mere passing
As they shoot
Through the air