Come on now, ol’ bod!
Gimme at least one good reason
why this self-assault ain’t treason!
~
Man! It ain’t treason!
Confusion is the reason!
I don’t know what to attack!
Come on now, ol’ bod!
Gimme at least one good reason
why this self-assault ain’t treason!
~
Man! It ain’t treason!
Confusion is the reason!
I don’t know what to attack!
Where is the healing
in base iconoclasm
even if the idols suck?
~
Sometimes we have to
say no to beliefs that cause
pain before we can start to heal.
How can we keep from
losing heart in the face of
so much heartlessness?
~
Every heartlessness
requires those with a heart
to face it and stare it down.
When the heavens dance
with the Moon and Jupiter,
does it matter which one leads?
~
When the heavens dance
with either one of these, it
matters not one whit who leads.
What does poetry
have to offer to a world
in such dire need?
~
Though poetry can’t
change the world’s great need, it can
change the way the need’s perceived.
Why’s it always seem
that any decision made
will, consistently, be wrong?
~
But you must decide.
For choosing not to decide
is another decision.
If some poets were
to run for president, what
would their slogan be?
~
You can rest assured,
though they claim to love the truth,
lies and hatred will prevail.
When we are busy,
how best to avoid errors
brought about by rushing?
~
To avoid saying
whoops, it might be best to pause
before jumping through those hoops.
Why are some content
with embracing other’s fears
without thinking for themselves?
~
Feeling our fear, or
that of other’s is not as
hard as thought can be.
Is it a good sign
when we begin to look for
questions rather than answers?
~
When asking questions
our minds remain open but
not so, when seeking answers.
When Bradford Pears bloom
and Cherry trees are budding,
how can snowfall be forecast?
~
The influence
of climate change deniers
has bud-washed these trees.
When a zen master
said, “Don’t side with yourself,” was
he just trying to be difficult?
~
The zen master knows
that there are no sides to take
in perfect states of being.
When these mean spirits
wrap themselves up in virtue,
how can we best redress them?
~
The answer, my son,
is to find another line
and put them out of fashion.
For one year we’ve chopped
poetic wood and carried
rhythmic water – why stop now?
~
Enlightenment may
come and enlightenment may
go, but our words will still flow.
We wrote the year ’round
And found, during our journey,
Many thoughts to bend our pen.
~
Shall we now extend
this unlikely writing trek?
Another round of mondo zen?
Beauty lies therein,
oh, sage mother of mine,
wanting and getting differ.
One poet could not
surprise herself in reply
and thereby, twist the meaning.
From ridiculous
to sublime, I was looking
for something along these lines:
As it was in the
beginning, is now, and will
always be – completely (w)hole.
On a star-less night,
with no moon and no flash light,
what can guide my way?
~
You might take this as
a sign to stay inside and
write some silly rhymes.
Are crickets chirping
On balmy summer evenings
Perhaps the sound you’re longing?
~
Surely not hollow
Echo resounding off the
Walls of vacant, empty halls!
The Invitation
came out of the blue – I was
asked to a poetic duel.
“It sure beats writing
my obit,” I said and picked
up my pen for mondo zen.
Wake up, mother mine!
Today begins this journey
Our Sedoka book of days.
Will you accept this
Invitation from your son?
Let’s craft some verse together!