Waiting

what am I waiting for?
I've asked that question all my life
it seems like I've done a lot in my years on earth
but there is so much more to do
what am I waiting for?

am I waiting for someone to ask me to do something?
am I waiting for better weather?
am I waiting for God to part the clouds and say, "It's time..."?

the answer is yes, that's what I'm waiting for

but I didn't wait the other day when I bought the coffee and scone
for the lady downtown on the sidewalk
I didn't wait for any of that when I called my client's mother
to talk about his job experience

sometimes I don't wait and things happen
it's good when things happen organically
I just feel like it's time to act
and the opportunity presents itself
or the opportunity presents itself
and I feel like acting

other times, though, I don't feel like it
that's when I want to teach myself to act
when I know I should but I don't feel like it.

What am I waiting for?
someone to pour the milk on my cereal?
someone to shake the salt on my fries?
someone to pass the ball to me?

"I've been waiting here for someone
to knock on my door
someone to come and ask me
what I've been waiting for

Now I ain't been cryin'
but you know how hard I been tryin'
to keep my door open
waiting here 
in the sunshine
waiting for no one"

I wrote those lines 37 years ago
am I still waiting?
Yes, I am.

I Like Poems, I Really Do

there are many ways to write a poem
one is to do it while you're sitting at home
surrounded by throws, sipping some mocha
trying to think of the next line's joke-a

or one can do it while one spends
an evening visiting and playing with friends
and visions of sentiment that keep ones blood warm
like the night one set fire to the rug in ones dorm

maybe you do it under a moonlit sky
the stars and the planets, and satellites go by
the expanse of the universe boggles your mind
like a vodka martini-- one of a kind!

some people sit by a fire on the beach
the roar of the tide just within reach
seagulls and bay gulls fly over head
and in a bikini that cute tranny, Fred

a fireman writes poetry waiting in stations
about flames and ladders and hot sensations
he writes about how his boots were on fire
but at a senior center for chest pain?--that makes him a liar!

my brother wrote poems while sitting in a tree
he had visions, you know, things that he'd see
he saw new inventions that people might need
he once wrote a book that taught you to read

my sister does poems but to write is a strain
so most of her poems just stay in her brain
she wants to share, but how do you suppose?
ask: she poetically blows her nose

Now I like to write while I'm lying in bed
a cat at my feet, a pillow for my head
toothpicks for my eyes to keep them wide open
I need just one more rhyme-- well, here's hopin'!

When a Cat Lies At Your Feet

When a cat lies at your feet
good things are bound to happen
the sun will shine through your window
the rain will lull the day into nothingness
feathers will float
dust will stay settled
the vacuum is silent

When a cat lies at your feet
you can take account of your life
are you giving enough? 
are you calling your friends frequently?
is your job meaningful?
do your clothes match your personality?

When a cat lies at your feet
it's hard to get moving
crossword puzzles
facebook
naps under throws
poetry
remote
Hallmark

When a cat lies at your feet
you just wonder...
what if I took flying lessons?
what if I signed up for a botany class?
does snowboarding really sound fun anymore?
is my life going the way I want it to?

When a cat lies at your feet
it means she's eaten
and all the world can be at peace
it means she doesn't need to go in and out and in and out the patio door
it means she contented
for a moment

When a cat lies at your feet
enjoy life
this thing we call our mind
our consciousness 
can do its thing
wander, create
solve, ponder
deny, affirm
rationalize, critique
be skeptical
be encouraging

be sleepy

which I am right now
you know why?
because there's a cat lying at my feet

So What?

you can leave leaves

you can stop tops

you can revere a river

you can part the trap

there are many things you could do with your language

I'm sure that English isn't as fun as some

but I don't know any others to compare with

so...

so you sew

sew what?

sew sewers?

so's she sewing sewers

or suing sewers

or sewing suers

sewers stink

stinkers sew and then they sue. 

why does 'er' change the way you pronounce 'sew'?

or not, depending

if you say a word over and over it doesn't feel like a word anymore

Donald Trump did it recently with 'China'

"China," he said 

"China, China, China, China

China, China, China.."

and so on, only each 'China' was inflected differently

which is funny because people in China who speak Mandarin (960 million)

inflect same words differently, too. 

Is it striped, or stri-ped?

Is it often, or of-ten?

Is it all-mond, or ahmond?

Is it salmon or sal-mon?

Why do you pronounce the first 'L' in 'salmonella?

Is it despicable, or de-thpicable?

We may never know but it's fun to think about.

Walter and the Tree

When Walter walks he walks alone
down narrow streets of cobblestone
that last line was not my own
and it is what makes this first verse get thrown

When Walter walks he walks alone
he puts his feet in shoes of stone
he throws the leaves and leaves are thrown
oh that last line has made me groan

When Walter walks he walks alone
It's the only way he's ever known
he feels the wind on his cheekbone
and then he goes off and blindly gets stoned

Boooo! Booo! Booo! Ok last try:

Walter walked through the small town alone
the hamlet felt good like it could be his own
how long he'd been here was somewhat unknown
his short memory had 'no good' muscle tone

he comes to the Tree, hanging limb by limb
he leans against it; it speaks out to him
"where are you going, lost human soul
and why did you pass that telephone pole?

that's where the bus stops on nights like this
when a human's adrift, then something's amiss..."
Walter looked up, wondering what he just heard
and tried to discourse, but the cat had his word

"I see what's the matter, " considered the Tree
"you prefer silence, your voice not to be.
Well, sit down for awhile and lean against me
I'll give you advice and you can agree."

For hours and hours Walter sat there
The moon came up, there were stars in the air
the Tree just kept giving prescription and caution
and going over life's every possible option

Walter just leaned, sometimes listened closely
the words went by like a humming tune, mostly
at last Tree fell quiet in the soft blowing wind
Walter wondered if he should try talking again

just then 'round the corner a man sprinted toward them
bare feet on the sidewalk in the streetlight so dim
he dropped something metal and stooped to reclaim
then he saw Walter, who looked like fair game

The man, a good thief, stole Walter's shoes
Walter was frantic and then was confused
he stood up and raised his hands as to yell
but before he could cry, on his knees the man fell

on his back was a rather large limb from the Tree
it had the man pinned to the sternest degree
In his hands Walter's thousand-mile shoes were clasped
Walter reached, saw the man's face and gasped....

Pretty

I used to think I was witty
I used to think I was pretty
It was handy to be
a quick-witted beau-ty
the head of the slapstick committee

I practice all day on my lines
to say them at just the right times
they came out like chimes
were at times clever rhymes
and stopped dull debates on a dime

I studied the mirror for days
to accept my own admiring gaze
would my fairness ever fade?
or my humor be dismayed?
Or would I just hear unending praise?

Oh I had it all I guess
in banter and beauty no less
I'd say the right thing
to make little birds sing
surrounding creatures I'd bless

but one day I opened my yapper
and out came an insulting snapper
I turned a deep red
ruing what I said
and went off and hid in the crapper

I didn't expect any pity
(I needed to work on my 'witty')
the next day I was plain
my ego fully slain
But, thank goodness, I was still fully pretty!

About Me

Who's going to reach down and pick me up?
Who's going to reach up and pull me down?
What's going to happen to make me see
that everything is not about me 

Usually I think it's all centered right here
Usually I think there's no more to this world
Usually I'm just what I need to be
I figure everything is all about me

When I answer the phone
and somebody asks me a question about somebody else
I think, "what the heck -- that's pretty gutsy"
I thought everything was all about me

If there's a news story about somebody dead
and they interview the poor guy's sister
I don't shed any tears for his family
because everything is all about me

If there's an earthquake in the world
and the country is asking for help
I organize my garage kit for an emergency
'cus everything is all about me

if gas prices fall, or grocery prices rise
I'm either sad or happy, depending on
but I'm not happy or sad for you, I guarantee
'cus everything is all about me

How do I look? how do I feel?
why am I lonely, why am I mad?
all this self-reflecting is driving me crazy!
why is everything all about me?

It wasn't my fault, I didn't do it
I never saw him, but I think he did it
I had no idea so why are you giving me the third-degree?
why is everything all about ME?!

leave me alone go away
come back here read my page
I'm so confused I don't know what to do-- could it be
that everything isn't all about me?

God says, "be not wise in your own eyes"
"trust me with all your heart"
I'm going to take a deep breath and continue to read
and hope from here on out that everything is not
about me

New Tires!

I got new tires!
how does one explain the thrill of
new treads on his rig?

it's like Christmas
any time of the year
it's like your unbirthday
it's like Les Schwab said
'hey, do you want a present?
ok, just pay us six-hundred dollars
and we'll give you newe tirrrrrrreeeeesss.'
OK, Uncle Les, I'll do it!

First there's the smell of the tire store
indescribable, I guess.

You can't say what it smells like.
It smells like a tire store.
some people like it. I like it

I like the smell of roofing tar in the summer, too
or hot patch asphalt
kind of like the smell of cold rain on a hot street
there's no way to say
it's a smell like....
because there is no smell like it

just like a TIRE STORE smell.

Then there's looking at the new tires for the first time
the perfect, unworn, deep tread
like a new pair of shoes
little rubbers poking out like unshaven whiskers

Then the first drive
and the first corner
like you're Mario Andretti
and your car sticks
to the road like
spray paint on brick

Oh I love new tires
once every 60,000 miles
it's a rare treat
Bring it on rain and snow
I'm ready!

A Good Man

I like the way you stand in the earth
like you came right out of the ground
 the sky and the wind surround you

You breathe in the world
and you breathe out the truth
 those around you feel youthful

reaching up to the branches
in the top of the tree
you find silver linings
in clouds I don't even see

As you move your aura reflects
the goodness in your heart
 those near you get started

Walking like a lion 
listening like a lamb
keeping your eyes on
the man from Abraham

you appear in this time
as a man whose time has come
 you need to tell us some things

you are of this earth
you are of this ground
the one who loves you
is thankful for who she found

Integrity, dignity
positivity, spirituality

you carry them in your pocket
they go everywhere with you
sometimes you hold them inside
but for those with eyes 
your pocket is a transparent disguise

...and That There Tree

I'm thankful fer the thangs I got
I'm thankful I ain't got a lot
this rock, this log, this piece a dirt
these pants, these boots, this ugly shirt

I'm thankful fer the thangs I see
that bush, this rock, and that there tree
I'm thankful fer the thangs I feel
this dirt, these boots, this banana peel

I'm thankful fer the thangs I smell
these pants, this shirt, this ol' seashell
I'm thankful fer the thangs I hear
uh, this rock, and ... oh, these boots, that there steer

I'm thankful fer the thangs I taste
uhm, this dirt, and..uhm, this banana peel, this rocky place(d)
I'm thankful, Lord, fer all my senses
and fer all the awareness that they dispenses

yeah, thank ya God, don't know what I'd do
with all this dirt and these rocks that are here 'cuz a you
and this log and all a my clothes, this bush
and that there banana peel that's turned into mush

that there steer and that ol' seashell mean a lot to me
I keep 'em close 'against that there tree
I'm thankful, tho' I ain't got a lot
Lord, I'm thankful fer the thangs I got

Walter's Song

If I told you a little story
about a man who came to town
and I said his name was Walter
would you listen to the sound?

of his voice as it was singing
it was a cold winter sight
in the middle of the square
in the middle of the night

he saw a broomstick standing
and he thought it was a mic
so he put his hands around it
and he breathed in child like

and before he could exhale
a bat flew at his face
so he flung the broom around
at what was now empty space

he hit himself quite squarely
in his private spot
which made him double over
and lay down on that spot

he groaned and he grimaced
he whimpered and he whined
and never did he sing a note
of any tuneful kind

I thought maybe we'd hear him
sing a word or two
and put an end to his silence
the story starting new

but that was not the case
he wandered off and hid
and onto his beloved dumpster
he closed the metal lid

Walter, my man, I'm sorry
you did not get to sing
let's just wait another night
and see what morning brings

for though today did not work out
tomorrow will arrive
and then at last you'll sing your song
Walter, you will survive

A Different Story

My mom 
she's 92, almost 93
she's as healthy as a 92 3/4 year old woman can be
--in the body

her mind is a different story
she has about 10 seconds of short term memory
that means she can't remember what two sentences ago
was in our conversation
for those first 10 seconds, she's a million bucks
then she's barely 10 cents

she walks faster than I do
even though it's with a walker
she takes care of herself, just gets a little help showering
she gets up and down
she eats chocolate

she gives away everything
tonight she was walking down the hall with her dental floss
because she didn't know where it came from
and so she was going to give it to someone
that and two pens, and a sticky note pad and some cream
she loves giving stuff
I have bought three sets of dry erase markers so I could leave her notes
she gives them away to the help

her tv is on CNN constantly
after a week and a half of Paris terror
she still sees the scrawl at the bottom
"22 raids in Belgium net terror suspects" 
and says "what is going on over there!"
and she really doesn't know

I talk to her but
I can't have a conversation with her
I name names on pictures, I write them on the back
but she doesn't know who anyone is anyway

I don't know if I feel worse for her
or for me

she asks me questions that she really wants to know the answer to
(do you have any stamp collectors in your family?
How old are your kids now?)
I answer differently each time because I can't take it
answering the same question 5 times in one 10 minute conversation
kills me

When I gather her clothes to wash
I have to explain why it's important to do laundry
but why do I explain?
she won't remember we talked about it.

I feel like I talk to her like she's a patient 
or a student
or a kid
but she's my mom

I don't want to be frustrated because it's not her fault
but I can't be normal because normal doesn't work

I don't want to feel like not visiting her
but I often do (feel like not visiting her)
she doesn't remember me being there
but she remembers being alone

We're going to Thanksgiving this week
a lot of family will be there
she'll love it
but in the evening, she won't remember the day
at all

I love my mom and that's what keeps me going
God, give me the strength to keep going
Where's the Hallmark movie when you need it?

Love Reigns

I lit a fire
under my heart
it burns
oh baby
it burns

it's a flame
that reaches the ceiling
a flame that lights up this room!
a flame
that opens the front door
a flame that 
shoots for the stars

my love for you
smolders
quavers
and then snaps like
pitch on a log
the wind blows
and the embers
glow brighter and brighter
until the whole woodpile
explodes
on fire!

too long I've been out of matches
too long I've left the lid
on the gasoline and diesel
too long I've left this fire unstoked
too long since the flame was constant

but the embers now are ablaze
no more ashes to be stirred
don't get the water out
there'll be no drowning this inferno
my love for you opens the front door
and shouts to the star-filled sky

where a million billion stars
are also on fire
love reigns!

Don't Let Your Dog Walk You

Dogs can take up all your life
I've spent more time with mine than I have my wife
It seems like I've lost all control:
"Feed me, pet me, let me out, fill up my bowl!"

Here's some advice
I'm going to tell you what to do:
Don't Let Your Dog Walk You!

I'm tired up cleaning up my floor
I'm tired of opening and closing the door
I'm tired of Saturday morning clippers
I'm tired of watching them hump my poor cow slippers

Heed what I say
especially if your pet's brand new
Don't Let Your Dog Walk You!

Summertime and there's nothing like a nice warm bed
You're curled up with your dreams
a nice feeling in your head

A cold nose sniffles into your hand
a snort, a whine, a sneeze
a little bite upon your finger
you hope that wasn't fleas

so you leave your dream behind
and head for the door
unwilling to wear your slippers
your feet cold on the floor

remember when once upon a time
when you were a happy two?
when fur wasn't stuck to everything like glue?
when you had a clue?
take my cue
Don't Let Your Dog Walk You!

Diamond Swimming Star

Do you wish you could be

a Diamond Swimming Star?

leaving the earth and looking back down

very far

Swim an ocean of time and ride atop the waves

could there be such a thing up in outer space?

you're always searching for new things

to think about

sometimes you're dry, sometimes water

gushing from a spout

if you run into a wall, just try to see inside

take a deep breath and glide

Do you look inside yourself and see what you want to see?

are you getting tired of people always telling you what to be?

be yourself...

hang up the phone

you're talking to no one

answer your door 

who's knocking?

it's the sun!

you're so beautiful

don't need to hide any more

Answer Your Door!

Do you wish you could be

a Diamond Swimming Star?

gravity is gone when reaching 

very far

could you ever stand still when you're in outer space?

swim an ocean of time and ride atop the waves

We Must!

We must, we must
we must not miss the bus!
We must, we must, we must, we must
we must not miss the bus!

we left the cows upon the farms
our car ran out of gas
we're so mad we wave our arms
and call each other 'ass!'

never should there be a time
when patience can't occur
(never should there be a rhyme
that you don't like, monsieur!)

to get downtown is paramount
the doctor might go home
and currently my high blood count
needs lowerin', Jerome!

but more than that I left my shoe
at Liberty and Court
and I don't know just what I'll do
if our trip should fall short!

what's more than that my dog is lost
somewhere in the city
who knows how many streets he's crossed
chasing after Kitty?

plus I owe a guy a buck
we're meeting at a bar
in fifteen minutes, what bad luck!
I hope we get that far

I have a lot that's going on
in the middle of this town
I don't think our chance is gone:
a bus - flag it down!

I will say this one more time
and then I shan't again
unless it happens that I find
myself alone, and then:

we must, we must
we must not miss the bus!
we must, we must, we must, we must 
we must not miss the bus!

Another Rainy Day

I watched as my shadow disappeared
and a sprinkle fell on my shoulder
the horizon was now the clouds' frontier
the day got darker and colder

If leaves had wings I bet they'd fly
and rather go up than down
taking their business up to the sky
never once touching the ground

if fir cones and branches would stay
hooked on to the limbs of the trees
and maple tree whirligigs would not come to play
my drive would be clean 'til the freeze

blustery days aren't just for Winnie the Pooh
rain's not just for crabby Eeyore
there's a lot more that rain and wind can do
so I guess I shouldn't get sore

but I like the sun, that big yellow thing
that warms me and helps me to grow
still, whatever the weather happens to bring
it's what God wanted, I know

but wouldn't it be great
if we could, like pizza, order in
rain that wouldn't stay too late
and a double dose of sun on our skin?

Tomorrow's a Busy Day

When I get up in the morning
I'm going to go down on my knees and pray
that the world holds together
for, please God, at least one more day

Before Jesus comes again
there are some things that I'd like to see
the Northern Lights ablaze
the pyramids in Egypt, the Sea of Galilee

before the tribulation
there are some people I'd like to talk to
Stevie Wonder, Barack Obama,
Billy Graham, to name a few

before he throws the evil one down
there are some books I'd like to read
A Tale of Two Cities, Les Miserables,
The Bridge of San Luis Rey,
and a few more that I need

Before this world is over
there are some things I'd like to say
to all the people I've never talked to
to you and her and him and they

Hmm, maybe when I get up tomorrow
and fall on my knees to pray
I think I'd better ask my Jesus
for more than just one day

or, if he decides to come tomorrow
that'd be ok

Day's End

Cat's on the couch flatly
lying
fire's in the hearth slowly
dying

paper in the kitchen
ignored
dishes in the dishwasher
stored

rain on the walk finely 
falling
snowy approach has been
stalling

moon behind clouds sadly
hiding
stars behind moon, mute
abiding

man with a book sort of
reading
daylight is finally
receding

pillow lays flat so
inviting
bedside lamp dimly
lighting

tomorrow's chores are
impending
day comes to pass, finally
ending

my last thought is this as I
pray
thank you, my God, for this
day

sleep is fast in
arriving
dreams are adrift and they're
thriving...

Girl By the River

She stands by the river, pulls the hem of her skirt up

      wades into the middle of the stream

and stands by a rock

She lets the wind blow through her hair

     raises her arms as if to fly

twirls and spins and dances like a 

     leaf blown into the sky

and her senses are all heightened

   by the beauty of her natural being

she could look all day and still not believe

    the beauty that she's seeing

she thinks:

Has this been here all my life

and I just haven't been aware?

She thinks of all those wasted days and how she's just begun to care

A voice goes through her head that says:

Don't take it for granted

What if the sun stopped shining?

What if the wind stopped blowing?

What if your world started 

slowing down?

In a forest shadowed quiet, she warms her hands by a fire

   with dappled sun, mossy greens, and browns

nature's spiritual attire

and the silence fills her head: it's an overwhelming sound

  so she lifts her voice like an owl at night

until it circles all around

she thinks:

has this been here all my life

and I just haven't been aware?

she counts her blessing once again 

and wonders how to share

She pulls her wrap around her, steps her way back to her bed

     remembers to be grateful for all

around and overhead

For the world is deep in wonder

and the sky holds mysteries, bound

tomorrow she'll tell everyone she sees

of the secrets that she's found

What if your world starts

slowing down?

I Swing

I swing because I was made for swinging
I dance because there's music in my shoes

I throw balls because I like to see things go where I aim them
I bounce balls because I like to see things come back to me

I lie on my back so I can see what's above me better
I lie on my back so I can better see what's above me
I lie on my back so I can see above me what's better

I sing because a little birdie asked me to
I stare because my brain has put on its emergency brake

I cry because I never do

I write because it's too late to play my guitar
I read so I can do something with my eyes besides burn things with my heat vision~duh!

I run because running frees my soles
I walk because I'm tired of watching things go by so fast
I drive because, well, I'm driven to...

I love because things grow when I do
I pray because life happens when I do
I worship because that's what I'm hard-wired for

I play my guitar because there's a wind in my fingers that needs to get out
I end because to go on would be presumptuous

Summer Dream

I woke up dreaming last night

I saw your face in my mind

I didn't turn on the light

A staircase leading below

wind opening up a door

a feeling 

going insane

A field of blooming flowers

a light from who knows where?

the minutes turning to hours

a world so frantic

a world so hazy

the spinning of my mind makes everything 

seem crazy...

(Oh hold me, reassuringly

let me stay inside your arms 'til I'm asleep

and then the world I build

will be deliciously dark

and deep)

I turned the switch on the wall

I gazed away from the door

I heard a fainting voice call

an echoing of a phrase

the summer turning to fall

someone's calling me home...

                                            someone's calling me home...

                                                                                        someone's calling me home..

                                                                                                                          someone's call

april, may i?

when i was a little raindrop
cradled in your hands
resting for a little while
above the burning sands

you raised your hands up to your lips
and gently kissed the rain
you threw me back into the air
the question now is plain:

april, may i be your raindrop
when your world is dry
hiding just until you need me
in your diamond sky?

april, may i stay forever?
kiss me once again
springtime showers
my love, to you, sends 

All the Way Back Home

taken by you
living with you
finding a new way home
thinking 'bout you
holding onto
a feeling of two, alone

and in my head
around and round
i've created a new poem
i've been thinking 'bout you
all the way back home

such a surprise
to look in your eyes
and see that the fire still burns
nothing to say
i'm lovin' today
the world had its way, now our turn

i know you won't 
see anything
i haven't already shown
i've been thinking 'bout you
all the way back home

night is warm and my window is down
thoughts are racing 
through my head like cars
racing through this town
and i CAN'T slow them down

angry with you
happy with you
girl, there's no view we haven't seen
boring and blue, laughing and new
soaring with you
man, i mean...

...that in my head
everything's there
that you've always known
and i've been thinking 'bout you
all about me and you
yeah, i been thinking 'bout you
all the way back home

Seamstress's Granddaughter

Carefully touch the unwoven thread
Don't uncover a wound that has bled
So many thoughts run through a young girl's head
That's what a seamstress's granddaughter said

We baste our dreams to the corners of our hearts
but so easily these two can fall apart
so many thoughts go through a young girl's head
that's what a seamstress's granddaughter said

and, oh, she dreams in silent repose
of handmade things, quilted angel wings
and colorful clothes

she wraps them all around her
as she walks through her days
and examines the threads that connect her life
in so many ways 
to the ones she loves

a stitch in time sews up several seams
a bright-eyed girl with material dreams
so many thoughts run through a young girl's head
that's what a seamstress's granddaughter said

'here's a pattern to look pretty on my doll's head'
that's what a seamstress's granddaughter said