supreme ironies

Supreme ironies shape human life
& an engineering culture like ours
    sows this one:
Where its enormous premise
is to save time,
    its plethora of devices
Only puts time on the run,
underscoring the flight of time,
    endowing it with fleet feet--
thus for the poet disappeared
into mountains
his morning is slow wide & unhurried
    as the sun's leisurely transit-

[his devices:
shoes/shades/shorts]

the buzz

They're worried about a large buzz of bees
Above the sushi bar "Kaido"
(former home of the Aldebaran)
They want a bid from me to remove them
-Ladder, long sleeves and wasp spray-
I told them I'd have to think it over

Sunday bike ride

How perfectly sublime
to coast
your sleek-wheeled pony
down Hidden Valley Road
a Sunday morning  early in June
past many a pasture rail
painted white
horses turning heads
to check this strange sight-
down to an alder-dappled creek
named French Ravine
where some night cool
lingers

"Civil War Re-Enacted in Pioneer Park" -news item

     As a former combatant in a very real war
I remain perplexed whenever I encounter war portrayed as theater, entertainment, or anything "fun".  Simple regard the present state of video games.
    War is a hideous business, as anyone will attest who's been sullied by the viscera of comrades, or had one breathe his last in his arms.
    With all the sublimity that surrounds us on this blue planet, I can't help but wonder why we go to the lengths we do to rehearse and recreate- thus legitimating- the next river of blood.

two hundred pounds?

It's an old excuse
But it's the only one I have-
"The scale must be broken!"

apocalyptic gladiators

It’s still undecided
Who Rules the Heavens

But Thor & Zeus
Had it out Monday night
Over Grass Valley

Hammer & Tong-

Fearsome gladiators
Locked in titanic combat
For supremacy

The outcome unknown
But what a display
Of apocalyptic firepower

ah, early morning bicycling

Coasting my fat-tire back
     down the cool breeze
          on Willow Valley Rd

Through long morning canopies
     of oak leaves

It was the first week in June

I braked at Varnell Lane
     leaned my bike against a tree

Drank deep the samadhi there
     the world's troubles far behind

Serenaded by orioles