nice day

in this shade of
being under an elder
crafting this wee bit
on this globally 
warm late september
still summer
oughta be autumn
alliterative kinda day
good enough
almost perfect...

 

drychotomies

the emptiness
it came in an arid wave
dampening my spirit
in a mirage

content one moment
lost and unfulfilled 
the next...

what the...
how the ...
does this even happen?

bad poems
sloppy music
wanabee writer's
blockhead pretense
dilettantish delusion
old fuck wheezer
not even a great pretender

then...
i sat in the sun
and globally warmed
i thought of you
listened to music 
sipped coffee

and...
fucking hell
felt better

a self-absorbed
mood swung
flip-flop ping...

what was it you said?
oh yeah, lose the ego

your mujadara

it's called 'everyman's dish'
a simple steaming pot of three
or maybe ten ingredients
lentils sorted to remove the wee stones
the cracked wheat of the bulgars 
onions chopped and caramelized
some kind of stocky brothy 
almond milk bullionaire chicken 
or beef or just plain old water
spices and garnishes steeped
with love and tradition of the
very region you are named for

i have never tasted yours...
they say is the best ever, here
or there, in this hemisphere
or that, heck, maybe the planet

but i have been nourished, often,
by the mujadara of your soul 
by the mujadara of your heart
the mujadara of your very being
with every little look you give 
every little thing you say...

every beautiful note you sing
laden, dripping, with joy or pathos
even better when it is
    both at the same time

 

etude...

some night before
we ever met, unaware
of the life changing
mind boggling heart 
melting soul soaring
wing dingy thingy 
thing that was about to 
happen

some night before
thinking... that next
day was to be
supposed to be
some hum drummy 
normalistic whatever I was
thinking about not 
thinking about kind of
tomorrow

unaware
you'd walk in
under the radar
right up to me
giving me just a
little coy glimpse
of that glowing 
pure radiance full
of grace smile

everything changed
but i didn't know it
yet...
 

golden rays of autumn sunshine

a warm fall day, pure
blue skies and the sun,
as only seen this time of year

the world is on the edge 
of harvest gold, basked in
sunlight of the same tone
illuminating heart and soul
in a momentary bliss 
knowing all is...
as meant to be

this feeling, this contentment
is no different than
when i see or think of you
the daughter of autumn light

it is in your corporal grace
the harvest golden glowing
aura of your very being

shine on...

 

just pawns

the world in disarray
forces moving us pawns
to think we think
believe we really believe
the group think 
algorithmed into
the media pablum
we feast on

'they' numb us then
shuffling us through
well-worn fenced paths
to the temple
the gilded palace
of consumerism
to buy and purchase
buy again and purchase
more and more of... 'stuff'
stuff 'they' make us
think we need 

September 2025
The Institute of It Ain't as Dire as it Sounds 

complacent emptiness

feeling empty, not a bad empty
a just washed coffee cup kinda empty
kinda content with it all 
not wanting anything at all
knowing that can change with 
with wind and whim and happenstance
and be fully filled again with
angst or bliss or something
in between

at this present right now
of this very moment
empty works just fine...

September 2025
The Society for Esoteric Concerns 

impromptu

on this blank page
this electronic easel
pulsating empty, white, pixels
there is potential for me
to almost write a reddish sun
like you painted on your wall
a redder son rising, or setting,
photoed over this blue salty sea
a brownish muddy river
or our unsalted lake

but...
i could write and write
and never match 
your singing while 
driving us to... 
i can't remember where

it never mattered after
hearing your song
the sun of your heart and soul
warming the whole world

september 2025