Posts Tagged ‘health’

one-act play

Wednesday, November 4th, 2009

Could a poem be
a one-act play?

it seems to me
there is a way

to take a plot
and weave it through,

its all I’ve got
let’s make it do.

The curtain ascends
with a man that’s coughin’.

and abruptly ends
with him in his coffin.

The audience applauds
this writer’s grovel,

a one act play
from a two-word novel.

dancing with the wind

Tuesday, July 7th, 2009

I danced with the wind today
as it filed my lungs and fanned
my body in all directions

pushing then holding me back
as I moved forward into its blast
only to feel it change and push

in another direction as
I was taking it in all that time
to reap its oxygen inside

charging my blood and fueling
my cells as they burned their fuel
propelling me on my way

walking and running
cycling and skating are dancing
with the wind and the earth

as it turns beneath and we
flit over its surface and realize
being one with it

what I like about bicycles

Tuesday, July 7th, 2009

What I like about bicycles is
their simplicity designed to fit
the human body and propel it
forward most efficiently

While details and mechanics
may change the basic layout
remains the same – two wheels
handle bars seat and pedals

Form and function are meeting
in the barest of arenas here
as the body fits into this array
and dances with the parts

suspended in the air while moving
breath and muscle blood and sweat
to glide in rhythmic revolutions
over the earth beneath

If perfectly fit in size and angle
the bike and body blend into one
breathing watching adjusting
as the mind projects the path

forward and around with subtle hints
at azimuth and angle direction
and speed navigating obstacles
while keeping the course

past sights and sounds that surround
and fill it with joy and desire
as the heart pumps oxygen into
its carrier and endorphins burst

upon the scene being played out
as riding becomes the present
and all-encompassing experience
that is cycling and even when stopped

the cycle itself can portend that trip
by its aesthetic arrangement
of mechanical parts in the simplest
arrangements so placed

that its juncture with the human form
can be minimal in contact and thought
simple in operation by design
and a beauty to behold

one gear one body one brake
leaves the mind uncluttered
as the body and bike unite
with time wind and path

what …

Sunday, June 28th, 2009

what is a man to do when his world is treating him so well
when he sees untimely death met with calm and dignity
and love taking all sorts of shapes in encounters sought

when feeling like a prophet comes nearly as often as feeling
like a persistent misfit in everything that surrounds
and wanderings produce nothing but more insights

and frustrations with physical glitches and mental chaos
which occasionally congeals into wonderful and lyrical
expressions that melt hearts and spark minds into ecstasy

when joy and inspiration is found in foreign tongues
and ancient music that in their abstraction strike a chord
harmonious with some eternally structured inner energy

that we all feel from time-to-time but mostly ignore
or deny in our frenetic flashing between future and past
while successfully missing the fine point of the present

so as you are reading this feel your breath calmly moving
to an ancient rhythm without your effort or intention in
and out in symphony with your heartbeat in your own song

of life and love as it sings along punctuated with your thoughts
and actions without ceasing over and over as it bends your days
and nights will it crescendo or nova or just hum along …

flash in the trash a rash of stash

Tuesday, April 28th, 2009

and nothing else that’s new
a glimmer in the night precludes
a run on the food-bank instead

of milestones placed by runners
of sleds bearing gifts bartering
for smooth faces and wet loins

in the entries of clubs and bats
are leaving the confines of misery
to enjoy the bliss of ravens

when mockingbirds are parroting
the real estate magnates in the sand
for carrying out someone else’s trash

and why not says the ferret
who is a symbol of the ever-seeking
minds of tarot readers and shaman

alike in their quest for rhythmic
balance of power and might beside
the seven-eleven of their souls delight

only to find a carcass instead
of the bonfire inside that glowing
shell of mercy beside the walls

of brick and murder just above
the sealing wax which is funneling
into a bright new flower

back-and-forth in its repetitious
swings as this rhythm plays itself
right out of existence — for now anyway

sniff, slurp, cough-cough
and more mundane thoughts
in a random spewing decorate pages

with nonsense that may divine
some meaning somehow, somewhere
for anyone who will look deeply enough

without allowing the dense filter
of academic analysis to cloud further
the already vague images set forth

while the writer is in a fog
of illness and weary of sitting motionless
feeling the flash of time missed

out of synch with the environs and inhabitants
of the whole tableau set before the eyes
that wince with stiffness above the running

nose and dangling throat of raspy snot
and gooey slime that weighs down a mind
that’s better suited for racing and speed

rather than the confines of sluggish
non-thought, non-action, non-non and non-anon
so its time to quit and leave the rest for rest

…but I digress.

snot & phlegm

Tuesday, April 28th, 2009

i long for a flow of nonsense
that can awaken me from a lethargy
brought on by my body playing
with some cold germs

from an airplane through my partner
because of the past taxing season
at H&R Block ® – go figure
and remember to wear a mask

of amontillado when approaching
a distant relative of the writer of Zoro
especially if there is salmon involved
and catching a virus is not scheduled

on anyone’s itinerary and certainly
not a sought after condition
when weather is turning warmer
and the full heat of desert summer looms

is it any easier to paint than write
when the body is in a funk through no fault
of its owning anything resembling a
good haircut or decent clothing

or even a mind that can think clearly
but then that’s never held me back before
so I should launch into writing from
mucus and phlegm constricted depths

from the post mental drip of old ideas
may sprout some neti fueled clearness
and perhaps a few lucid words but
i want more, much more from this pit

of snot than most would expect because
that’s me, the great expector of miracles
and good from bad and all that stuff so
i’m really disappointed that this is all

i could come up with when i was just
beginning to see something through that
foggy golden glass that separates me
from the figures and their shadows

within that warm and inviting room
where there appears to be a lively discussion
of things immortal and yet so much
of the flesh and i want to engage it

a cold

Tuesday, April 28th, 2009

having a cold is like wearing
a concrete overcoat and having the hanger
in your throat and nose

You can’t visit friends for fear of contagion
but long for their company
and a reprieve from the heaviness you feel

sniff, sniff, cough, cough, cough
spitting and blowing all sorts of stuff
and feeling a half-second late all day

you know what good health feels like
and swear its just around the corner
in the strobing reality of a common cold