For All The Marbles (for the Captain)

Perfect contractual checkroom number

“Next!” 

was heard to be said over loudspeaker 

in the plaza overlooked by Lord Nelson.

“You can’t make this stuff up!”

somewhere preserved on dime store tape

recordings of whale song Indian chants

ululations faint forgotten echos who knows.

Akashic telemarketers continue nonetheless.

It all makes sense until it doesn’t and Vice 

Versa the rest is yet to come who’s ready?

The fumigator is on an automatic timer.

Pest pestilence perpetual especially human

say the intolerant over achievers if they’d

just be not where I can see them …

this is your life remember simple math 

is comfortable given quantum chaos but fear

is, as Dune knows, the mind killer so be 

careful what you ingest into body mind you

never know where the next revelation is 

coming from which is why our eyes open 

at all ever if only we would be willing to see.

Words have no meaning until the mind reads

like seeing shooting stars in that vast space.

One Size Fits All

Little screaming aliens out of the womb,

the right hole except occasional Caesareans

(more like in the movie).

It takes a while before they look human…

luckily they do so not rejected as abominations.

Gradually accreting lives, habits, characteristics 

that make them think they are unique, better than

others at some things, richer, more power, looking

down their noses at others who never get a break,

don’t have a silver spoon…comparing always

comparing as if that will make them feel any better.

Inevitable march of time for all programmed to a

grave conclusion. Maybe one’s casket is a little 

bigger, more ornate than the neighbor’s.

The daisies we push up don’t seem to notice,

memorials fade into the future…

“What was that?” the final question before the

lights go out forever.

One More Time

Jacaranda purple blossoms flower now

marking my journey through time again

around the sun in cosmic dance begun

so long ago memory escapes me only

each again day reminds I’m still alive

more and more barely I survive not sure

what I’ve done to help this fragile world 

matters in the play of events unfolding

ever changing driven louder energetically 

amplified by new tools of electronic reach

one would hope would make more clarity

but competition rears its ugly head into 

even that muddying what could be obvious 

but everyone wants a piece of the action a

seat at the feast so the louder it gets the less

we can actually see the brilliance of simplicity

Jacaranda blossoms ephemeral joy that may

be the last beauty of truth’s mystery.