A Wild Plan (A Sonnenizio)

A Wild Plan (A Sonnenizio on a line from Mary Oliver)

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Perhaps you will gather wild mushrooms,
ride the bulls in the Wild, Wild West,
travel the rails over the wildest landscape,
or chase wildebeests in the Kalahari.
Do you hear The Call of the Wild,
urging winds wilder then raging fire?
The vast wilderness of possibility,
a wild stretch of terrain without
civilizing influences. Wildness rages
like a roaring river in a wild, fertile mind-
flooding its banks in wildest splendor.
Do you embrace the wildness or simply surrender?

No Longer Confined to Our Heads

No Longer Confined to Our Heads

The private you within
secret place of fantasies
hidden from public view
all things considered
unspeakable passions
titillate the fancy

The semi-private you
at home- family man,
hausfrau, controller of
some things considered
beyond the castle moat
We are not what we eat

The public you- member
of a thundering herd
out and about, good Joe
church deacon, a beacon
of the community
We are not what we seem

Enter the internet
confused distinctions
the private you mingles
with the semi-private
becomes semi-public
We are like what we seem

Fantasies become public
become real, duality of
man's nature on exhibit
like Smithsonian dinosaurs
reconstructed from bones
We are what we are

No longer can we commit
fantasy adultery
be kinky with the wife
sing praises in church
keeping each separate
We are visible now

We search, research, blog,
Google, Yahoo, chat, forum,
pornicate, Face Book, My Space
let it all hang out confusing
imagination reality
Big brother knows us now

Good Company

Good Company

Alone by the river,
my place in the woods
enjoying solitude,
listening to nature’s
heartbeat. Being alone
does not mean I’m lonely.
I’m not in bad company.
The birds, the fish, the deer
visit often and remind me
of the grand scheme of life.

Here They Come!

Here They Come!

This time of year the tourists come
to smell where bison used to roam,
to wade cold rivers until they’re numb.
This time of year the tourists come
to see the tepees, to hear the drums,
to escape the hum drum of their homes.
This time of year the tourists come
to smell where bison used to roam.

They come in droves from everywhere
with homes on wheels to sleep at night.
Invade the west without a care.
They come in droves from everywhere
in search of Yellowstone Grizzly bear.
Their flowered shirts are quite a sight.
They come in droves from everywhere
with homes on wheels to sleep at night.

They photograph their great expedition.
Show the folks back home their daring.
Exaggerate with endless repetition.
Photographs of their great expedition
with a brave, bold and colorful rendition.
Times like these are meant for sharing.
They photograph their great expedition.
Show the folks back home their daring.

At summer’s end the memories fade.
All the kids return to school.
Time to end the masquerade.
At summer’s end the memories fade.
It’s time to draw the window shade.
put away the maps, cover the pool.
At summer’s end the memories fade.
All the kids return to school.

They took a great vacation West.
They spent a lot of dough.
The locals suffered quite a test.
They took a great vacation West,
a longtime dream, fulfilled a quest.
Montanans put on quite a show.
They took a great vacation West
The locals suffered quite a test

The Cats of Abu-Simbel

The Cats of Abu-Simbel

Four thousand years ago
Egyptian ladies
mummified and deified
their striped orange pussies,
wrapped them in swaddling cloths
for the afterlife. They wanted
to be certain their royal
husbands would have a purring
pussy waiting in the next world.

Lover's Song

Lover’s Song

She treaded lightly on his dreams,
tiptoed quietly through his trance,
for heaven above inspired his dreams,
and the Lord himself induced the trance
to sing his praises all night long,
to tug her heartstrings with his song,
and soothe the passion held so long,
to breathe the fragrance of his song.

Living is an Action Verb

I was thinking today about the ennui so prevalent in today's culture. If you are looking for something to complain about, you are absolutely certain to find it. It requires some effort to achieve a happy outlook on life, and most people don't make it. Most people take the path of least resistance. Far too many people today don't make the steps to make their life more fulfilling one. I wrote the following poem about living:

Living is an Action Verb

This is a world of action,
not for moping and droning in.
Not a world for the fat
And inert, the lazy,
The slow and apathetic,
Indifferent, neutral,
Sluggish, soggy, torpid
Stagnant languorous slugs.
Build a house, Plow a field,
Write a song, catch a fish,
Bake a cake, ride a bronc,
Run a mile or a marathon,
Make a difference. Join
The human race today!

Grown Men as Children

Grown Men as Children

Oh sister, sister, where is your husband?
They took his sorry behind off to jail,
left me weeping. Now I cannot stand
that I must do a sinful deed for bail.
He'll soon be coming home, sick and pale.
Some day he'll meet his end, but, this I knew
when he came knocking, lovingly, full of ale.
How my sweet man would always be untrue,
would always be a fool. Would have to risk
elusive life, whose fickle behavior,
slippery fingers and bloodstained fists
can make strong men shilly-shally, waiver.
And he will be the one to utter, "Help"
Sister, sister, time to fetch your wayward whelp.

A Contorted Life (A nativity poem)

A Contorted Life (A nativity poem)

It's Kama Sutra time-
The time of positions
One for each year of life
Like old missionaries

We face each other prone,
prayer-like. Hip to hip
then in the canine style
loud barbaric yawps

I've slithered lustily
over generations
of contortions-twisted
shapes, oddball positions

and survive today for
my age of Kama Sutra-
magic number sixty
nine-my sexy birthday!