Such a simple way to control the
sun
Changing night to day
and when it’s time to go to bed
just pull the other way,
No on/off switch
no circuit boards
no apps you need to load,
a simple tug
upon the cord
and shadows just erode,
How clever this invention
for changing day to night
all you’ll ever need to know
is your left hand from your
right.
I like to think that when we die,
we are given a hall pass. We are free to
wander around and look at the life we just left, the decisions we made and the
times we had. It will be so unique to us
and amazing that we’ll never even consider hanging around as spirits or
ghosts. To us, the afterlife will be
greater than Disneyland, for it will have been real. We will hear the interactions with others and
be able to see our reasoning and thought process. Our mistakes will be obvious, but so will our
achievements. It is there that time
travel becomes a real thing. Seeing
ourselves at different ages. None of it
will be scary, just educational. As
spirits we will still be able to grow and learn, although it may take some
getting used to.
They left them here
for me to see
right where my scooter
used to be,
So, I walk home
with awkward stride
while the sneaky creep
he gets to ride,
It makes me feel
a little cheap
for I left nothing
when I was
the creep.
For someone like me, who has difficulty leaving a blank page blank, I find it hard to drive past an empty billboard. All that empty space just begging for words, messages or maybe just a recipe. Something needs to be up there. Even cautious drivers need some kind of distraction.
“I’m sorry your honor, but
I was busy reading Zobostic’s cure for a clean driving record. I never noticed
the road crew waving the emergency flares or the large stack of orange barrels.”
What if I were a time traveler
how ever would I know?
I’d have to know just where I’ve
been
and where I need to go,
Should I go into yesterday
or maybe just next week,
have the strength to make it back
or would I be too weak?
Would last week’s food be spoiled
with nothing there to eat
would future shoes be different
and grow just like my feet?
You’re looking so familiar
please, have we ever met?
it’s not surprising I don’t know
as I’ve not been here yet.
If you’re going to shoot the
rapids
make sure that you don’t miss,
There’s nothing quite as
dangerous
than the rocks beneath the mist,
Its bends are sharp and frequent
the straightaways are fast,
they can toss you up into the air
and land you in the past,
I have seen some skilled
professionals
with those set out to learn
suddenly be up the creek
never to return.
The Mighty Wounded River
will treat you like a friend
then simply toss you overboard
a small splash at the end.
This poem is dedicated to
the Navaho brave, Little Splash,
whose canoe is on display along side
his empty teepee.
ZC
The cricket with its cricket tune
unbeknownst to me,
found its way into our home
and none of us did see,
Throughout the night
we tried to sleep
but Mr. Cricket played and played
never did he miss a night
this night-time serenade,
Over the days and weeks ahead
his songs we heard each night
at first, we found annoying
and yet it seemed alright,
Then one night it was quiet
He’d left without a trace
hung up Missing posters
but no picture of his face,
we hoped someone would spot him
we waited for a call,
The Fed’s refused to get involved
the police - no help at all,
We tossed and turned and didn’t
sleep
our nights were not the same
My wife thinks our cat Snowball
is the culprit we should blame.
