poem of the day March 1


I bought myself

a Mercedes Benz

complete with a driver

a nice one painted white

with red wheels

ready to race

into the future

I am so lucky

the lord gave me one

without even asking

now all I need

are some hot wheel tracks

which I can borrow

from my grandson

so I can impress

my matchbox friends

See all you Porsches on the road!

poem of the day March 30


I am watching 

the magnolia

out my window

Buds swollen 

waiting for 

warm lusty spring

panting hot sun 

to open the

magic flowers

full of scent 

Alluring scent

like a fine wine aroma

able to sparkle

the rhinestones of my mind

poem of the day March 29


The long dance

through the open door

of happiness

must include a ticket

to well being

in order to

become whole

otherwise the soul

gets poured down

into cracks of distraction

where pleasure is confused

by the pulse of desire

instead of the primoridial tide

of lasting joy

poem of the day March 28


The pruner checked

each and every apple tree

before each and every cut

looking into the eyes 

of each and every bud 

aware of which  branch

would bloom with fruit

yet very unaware of karma's pursuit 

because when the pruner

had done the work 

many a tree were shaped like snakes

full of apples that tempted fate

poem of the day March 27




rain at dawn

a pinch of light

struggles for footing

in a land full of 

man made dark

buds hide from the cold 

by burying themselves

inside of wooden legs

forced to march

to the mad drummer

where they all wait

for a hero tree

to set them free

poem of the day March 26


a voyeur at the wedding

watching love unfold

I sat back as

the bride and groom

said their vows

and though I did not know them

I felt an inner peace

an essence drifting

from the sparkling well

where marriage is born

before the storm 

poem of the day March 25


I see a lot of people

wear a good charade"

said Poker Face to Lady Lace

who appeared inside the vase

"I know the hand you're dealt 

has many coats of paint" 

She answered back

Raised him two 

while returning to her fate

"Yes there  always is a player who

always wins the game"

 Poker smiled to her kind of wild

as he continued to explain

"But you have to know

which fire plays inside every flame"

"So what part are you playing?"

Lady Lace asked of Poker Face

"I am playing the ball that knows it all

to win the human race"

poem of the day March 24


Very grey

not a lick of blue

except for the jays

squawking within

the naked branches

The whole scene reminds me

of stagnant time

The high tide of late winter

cresting nesting waiting

until the eternal rush of spring

poem of the day March 23


Setting off tomorrow

without a set a wings

or a map

only the feeling of contentment

looking out my window

buckets hanging 

thinking about sap

and the few degrees

that separate

waiting from fate

different from

fating the wait

the inner peace

of perfection

is always as close as it can be

just ask the maple tree

poem of the day March 22


I am in me boat

riding the water

which is 

unable to do

much by itself

except to seek

the lowest level

It has no attitude

or opinion

of its own

It is only the direction

of life forces that

waves the water into

raging rivers

or driving rains

where it tumbles

to reach the path

of least resistance

And me and me boat?

Well I am just hanging around

hoping for a sweet smooth ride 

poem of the day March 21


I am looking out at spring

the farm is still

full of winter snow

Not much green

Not many signs

Only a few returning birds

Some swelled buds on early trees

I need something more

so I close my eyes

and let the warm March sun

drift over my imagination

to bask in the subtle vibrations of lovely spring

poem of the day March 20


There were dancers

in the courtyard

that didn't know the song

They were bouncing

to some rhythm

that God said was wrong

Some were masked

green and golden

others faced with orange blue

their emotions coughed

a color that spat an evil hue

Still it looked quite inviting

from the lily white lagoon

where well coiffed sharks

clapped with sparks

to sing the songs unknown

poem of the day March 19

A span of days

linked together

with waves

pounding a soft beach

full of first impressions

that may or may not

get worn

down by the sands 

each grain able

to sit at the table

within the constructs 

of moving time

with the ideal

of changing minds

poem of the day March 18


An orbit going around 

an orbiting town

is found most 

everywhere

from mound to ground

A planet here

An atom there

disguised to keep

things unaware

To those few able

to allow themselves

in beyond this outer skin

where faith lingers around the rim

Remember only the orbiter 

decides which soul gets in

poem of the day March 17


classic

vintage

antique

and old

sometimes 

discarded

in the quest

for youth

but still 

perfect in

the freshness

that springs

from the vaults of 

imaginary time

poem of the day March 17


classic

vintage

antique

and old

sometimes 

discarded

in the quest

for youth

but still 

perfect in

the freshness

that springs

from the vaults of 

imaginary time

poem of the day March 17


classic

vintage

antique

and old

sometimes 

discarded

in the quest

for youth

but still 

perfect in

the freshness

that springs

from the vaults of 

imaginary time

poem of the day March 17


classic

vintage

antique

and old

sometimes 

discarded

in the quest

for youth

but still 

perfect in

the freshness

that springs

from the vaults of 

imaginary time

poem of the day March 16


The idea of still

not moving 

frozen

meditating

Waiting in the statis quo

no change

stuck or

at peace

in the same old

same hole

I guess I

have something

to think about

while sitting still

in the stillness

of dawn

poem of the day March 15


"Knowing the difference between things

is an art form" said the art critic  

who was born 

of this and that

of hum and ho

of stop and go

"As one falls 

into the stream

to find reality

One has to live 

not picture the dream"

poem of the day March 14


As the snow comes down

in the waking dawn

the white fog blends

with the long winter grey

to make strange light 

on a surreal day

poem of the day March 13


Cold on many levels

outside meadow full of frozen ice

frosty inside ideas not melting

huddled by the wood stove

feeling like swirls on the river

battered by bitter icy boats

lost in the current 

of late winter moon light

poem of the day March 12


Shifting time

twice a year

A small jump

over the eternal flame

The pearl of light

chased by an hour

Nothing saved

the farmers still

working longer in

their field of dreams 

An hour here
An hour there

light your pearl 

but choose with care 

poem of the day March 11


It was Iron Art

The basket contained

Black and White

The artists had 6000 years

to produce a masterpiece

The first group of artists took no risk

with a lovely lily white flower in a black vase

Pretty but too status quo 

The second group of artists

though a little more daring 

maybe a little more avant-garde

basically reversed the colors

with a raven black jet flying through a white cloud

very strong but predictably very edgy

The third and last group went out of the box

and blended the colors into seas of grey

where black and white opened onto a canvas

born by the mix of extreme perfection 

poem of the day March 10


I am home on the range

on the inside range

frying up the bacon

scrambling the eggs

thinking about a wide open plain

where the animals are cooked

in the flash of the frying range

The smells of irresistible delight

waffling through my open kitchen

over unclouded stone counters

where the eyes and the ideas do play

with disjointed thoughts born of discouraging words

in a tame house drifting toward a wild day

poem of the day March 9


Fred and Barney

were attending

the prehistoric conference 

on global warming

taking place in Bedrock

Everybody was worried

about climate change

The earth was warming

The sea levels were rising

though some like Mr Tibbles

refused to think it was dinosaur made

Regardless all knew that

if they did not stop the big brontosaurus from shitting

they would be faced with the dreaded runaway greenhouse effect

poem of the day March 8


On the verge of the day

the drifting of dawn

How many coats of paint on

on the rise of the sun?

I sit with open mind in this realm

where Gods and Fairies play

catch with berries 

poem of the day March 7


Time sensitive relationships

patterns holding hands

around an unbalanced circle

with players from

all over the universe

A tornando full of conflicting emotions

tall trees on short grass

the fire walk is hard to last

for more then just a moment's grasp

poem of the day March 6


The swell of a bud

on an open sun

The lingering cold 

upon an orchard

of waiting fruit

The play of anticapation

teased by March winds

licking over the dormant branches

waiting for some flickering God

some sign to light the torch of spring

poem of the day March 5


Happy for no reason

is a spontaneous expression

often clouded 

by the very reasons

it lives in

poem of the day March 4


Strong sun

March cold

I am 

watching

feeling 

the see-saw battle

of my mother Earth

tilting toward the morning light

poem of the day March 3


In a still wind

a tired leaf lays flat 

drained of life

but as the breeze begins

to blow over time

the leaf dances

full of fleeting excitement 

just like emerging winter people out 

riding the backs of wild tigers 

poem of the day March 2


Retreating snow like shadows

that don't follow the sun

The poke-a-dot white islands

melting in the heat of the light

The snow reduced into fleeting puddles

where the final battles of winter's brigade

slowly give way to the brirth of spring

poem of the day March 1


There were millions of people

but no one was watching

All were out shopping

at mind wasting stores

gathering lies handed out

by snake oil salesmen

that pulled dead rabbits 

out of their well disguised hats