When salmon run
On finny feet
And birds fly
Then squirrels eat
And snakes retreat
To get a better angle
And find the answer:
Life the world and
In unexpected moments.
With sunset rolling past the day
With willows whispering something to say
With one hand holding a guide for my way
I turned to the left and fell into the hey
Only to roll to the edge of the creek
Breaking three teeth and gashing my check
So I'll give up walking when future days beckon
And stick to my couch, an established potato.
I don't remember much
About the weather in Nantucket
Nor easily recall a ceiling drama
Or carefully placed grey bucket -
But when it rains too rapidly
For the roofing to keep us dry
A bucket, waste bin or dumpster
Will help prevent Mr. Bill's shrill cry
"Oh, shit we all will die."
There are ants in the house
In the yard;
In the grass;
In the street;
In the driveway;
One assumes –
No one ever sees
Ants stopped to chat
Like your aunt or uncle.
Maybe they only deal with basics.
Too small to engage in real conversation
We may never ever know.
With ideas solid as Jell-o molds
And actions louder than whispers
Cracks and comments, hints and snickers
Slither forth from dark and secret places
Echoes inside AM's scratchy landscape
Where some slouch and sway
Along an endless, twisting way.
Will we notice what got said
Or fear the echo without thought
Once upon a time ago
When sailors sailed
And tailors tailed –
A whale of a tale
Was told by all
About the adventures
Of William J. Hall
Keeper of weapons
And master of none
The ultimate loose cannon
Asleep in his den
With his socks by the door
A hat on his head
Waiting till morning
On the road near the bend
Where enemies furious
Frazzled and wizened
Can claim their used luggage
With bag tags in order
And TSA's blessing.
Ice cream cones,
Things that don't go together;
Red and white,
Green and blue,
Charming ways to think things through –
All things blend together in the brain
Without more pattern than the falling rain -
But get sorted out and stored away
As memories for another day.
Before you go to sleep this eve
Remember he is away from home
Remember she is facing danger; taking risk
Remember she is keeping us safe
Remember all he does for freedom's sake
Remember they are there for all of us
Remember some will come home wounded
Remember some will not come home at all -
So in some moment in this Memorial Day
Remember; wish fair winds, calm seas;
Godspeed along throughout their day.
With hidey how and hidey hee
I think that I will take a pee
And wonder where the stream will go
And who will 'sorb the yellow flow
But then I wonder
'bout a tree
And know that no one cares
So I shall ponder
And wonder who
Shall be our guest.
Whether rodent small
Or hippo large
Who shall wonder at the stars
Who shall drive our tiny cars
When will critters look at scares
Of eating, dining and hearty harws.
When round the curving road
The salmon and the toad
Come running in the spring
Sweet greetings for to bring -
Then hamburgers and fries
Will fall down from the skies;
Rivers will run red and green
With catsup, relish, onions keen
To grace our pallets, touch our lips
And live forever round our hips.
When wanton royals ramble and romp
The rest of the world determined to stomp;
When hamburger and mustard mix in the way
That causes our stomachs to have their say;
Then comes the sunlight full of day
Inviting all to come and play
The same stupid games that elephants learn
When lion and leopard they do spurn.
I worry much of the time
Taking over the world:
Worse than the blob eating New Jersey;
Worse than global warming heating the polar caps;
Worse than being buried alive in
Chocolate chip cookies;
I have seen chocolate and cookies and chips
Even potato chips and buffalo chips;
Worse than a world without orangutans, delta smelt
Uncolored margarine, three legged stools,
Members of the Bush family;
Better than falling into a volcano.
I promise with all promise power
Said today and good for an hour -
I'll not drink palm oil
Ever again if that makes you happy.
Drinking it generally makes me feel crappy
Hey! You! Everyone! Listen!
It could be, yes, that somebody's pissing -
But my concern is greater tales;
Tragic events, flagons of ale;
Tortured words that cannot fail.
Salmon colored was the sky
When Rolf da Noft went out to try
Wrong righting for small fry.
His mighty stead of Harley line;
His boots and jacket of leather fine;
His purpose to justify all nine
Gallons in his tank
By capturing the robbers of the bank.
Tying them fast to handle bars
Only to deliver them to prison bars.
No word of caution would he brook
As he raced to catch this crook -
Whose family waited in get-away
With fire power and desire to pray.
At eighty-five Rolf's sight was clear -
With head unclouded by wine and beer.
Not so the crooks that fled by car -
Their lifestyle betrayed by fat cigar
Dipped in brandy in the back seat
Where fumes prepared the driver for defeat.
Clay pots hover up above
While glass breaks all around
Smashing crashing bashing sounds
Race across the channels of God's Dolby town.
3-D, 4-D, Every-D imagined
Look across the canyon's rim
Absorb wonder and beauty like bounty towels
Till the apple cobbler snips a nail head off
And sunset wanders in around us
Evening then surrounds us and
Midnight waits ahead
When the brain drain causes pain;
Ripe watermelon gushes with the dawn;
Green apples fall like stones;
And green beans harvest themselves –
Beware the salmon swimming towards the tree -
The squirrel flying towards the waves
The bright bird burrowing into the dirt.
All are the savage dark reaching out -
The edge of dark sweeping all in its path.
Chanting, Panting, Granting, Planting
You cannot flirt with the dirt;
Nor ask it out to tea.
If you take it to your Starbucks
They'll sigh and say "Just leave."
It's there for shoveling, raking or hoeing;
A place to put your crop when sowing;
Something to spot you shirt or pants;
A lovely place for raising ants.
A new word fell upon my ear
Gi-Nor-mus; Gi-Nor-Mus; Gi-Nor-Mus
Is it giant; gigantic; enormous; or more?
One lady lamented;
One pitch man said;
One cook exclaimed.
A new word fell like a leaf from a tree.
Playing with language helps keep us all free.
Spam, ham, run with a ram
Life turns over, around and down.
Quickly moving in the day.
Dark of night; lack of light
And allergy season the reason
Football is played in the fall.
Wall-eyed whales beached in Wales
Call upon the new-born dawn.
A Song of Epic Disappointment
Lemon apples mixed by hand
Holding promise of sweet beginnings.
Or loud voices shouting silence
With hammers pounding
Lemon mush and apple bash.
To this rattled fest Evan cometh -
Drawn by smells of sounding boards.
Humming William Tell and sleeps
Astride great Silver bereft of
Silver bullet and mask –
Hero yes; hero maybe; hero sandwich no-the-less.
Pounding rounding riding shoots
He eats and leaves.
Rain runs left to right
While snow falls down to the ground –
The whisper of water deep in the ground
Shouts above the raucous cry
And hapless hippos hike uptown
Grinding fields of grain to flour
As thousands of guppies gallop and fly
Hundreds of feet up into the sky
Without the benefit of water
Mad mockingbirds flit in and out
Straining brains striving ears flaring lips
With sounds of the nightless night by day;
Grapes being just as they are -
Something silent in the night
But oh so alive by the windy light of day.
Bad prose arrived by post today.
Horrid dull grammarless grey
It sticks to the eye; no song to sing.
Consultant created; big bucks; still sucks.
Must have been a Santa Monica hit --
Reused; worn out; tedious prose
Making the old look greyer; tired; dull.
No cry from a vivid verb;
Lacks agile adverbs active antics
Fails to offer adequate adjectives; none alive.
Bad prose arrived by post today.
Bad prose bound for recycling's bin.
Passionless puppies wrapped round sticks of gold
Call endlessly to fish at sea whose lights shine bright
Waiting for green giants their valley to behold
Where wailing walrus rumpus in the mist
Of day becoming crowded, dark and grey
Lights dim stage left as cats take stage by stage
The world awaiting tap and song and glee.
When rabbit chase the gorilla home
With donging dangles all asunder
Then common is the smithy's voice
Clanging in the valley
Pounding rabbit flesh to ploughshares
Waiting for dinner held up by salmon's flight
Till tomorrow and next Wednesday collide again
Making weak ends of us all.