poem of the day September 30

The life of leaves

begin as buds

Bloom into rich canopies

Play all summer

in symphonies of green 

Then as nights turn frosty

embrace the cold

Allowing their metamorphosizes 

to turn into majestic colors

until they fall  from trees

very free like all life should be

 poem of the day September 29

Water tastes 

better than 

fresh nirvana

only if it falls from 

Mother Earth 

without the spoiled

hand of man

 poem of the day September 28

All the stories

of a trillion souls

are on parade

in the old roundhouse

Emotions raw and stewed

like too sweet candy 

swim in the broth

Round and round

high above desire

mixed into eternity

is the viewing stand

of the promenade

Where all tickets are 

sold into eyes of life

searching for the womb of god

 poem of the day September 27

I bought

an ancient 

pirate's necklace

at the flea

I have to say

it spoke to me

It hung very well

on an old hemp rope

with skull and crossbone

as a pirate's necklace would

but it also had a softer side

A scrimshaw girl

An old silver coin

A carved ivory heart

All side by side

It made me think

of the romance of time

and the life of men

before my time

 poem of the day September 26

Time works

every second

Does not stop

Will not stop

Can not stop

No lunch for dinner

Has to keep going

Has to avoid both 

past and future

 poem of the day September 25

The glass of normal

is full of insanity 

The world has

been turned

upside down

The sun now 

Rises at night

Sets in morning

The birds are 

as confused 

as the worms

 poem of the day September 24

The change

happens

sometimes

so slowly

so effortlessly

like water 

warming

in the sun

I am reminded

of simple times

as I watch

fall appear

on a maple leave

without 

worry or

the shock

of fear

 poem of the day September 23

A painted post

has stood outside

watching the sun rise

each and everyday

for many centuries

Every few years

it is repainted

by another generation

with ideas defined

by the will of time

As I drive by the old post

I wonder if its core

has remained the same?

 poem of the day September 21

Along the light

of an iron lamp

Finial tops

a well built nest

Eagle flies

on two great wings

seeking answers lost within

 poem of the day September 23

Send the world a letter

on the other side of time

Begin with a statement

End with a rhyme 

Dance a lot of dreams 

for days do unfold

and don't forget

to teach your pet 

the dangers of the road

 poem of the day September 20

I am surrounded

by a room full of

green tomatoes

Their round eyes

are poking through windows

Outside covered by blankets 

pretty fragile flowers shiver

like beautiful butterflies

Cold air from nowhere

has arrived too soon

Seeped into the garden

mixing time with stillness

Tomorrow frost will appear

with the rise of dawn

 poem of the day September 19

I say

Say the hay

is sweet

Call the birds

by first names

Look at things as

if they were ideals

not idols

Then perhaps

the wall of wanted positivity 

will completely understand 

the meaning of unconditional hope

 poem of the day September 18

Take long words

for what they are

Just words easily said

Even easier sold

whether true or not

How does one know

the real tongue from forked tongues?

We are all predisposed

in our own filtered desires

Our own propaganda 

dancing like fancy wheels

in balls of rational irrational contradictions

I fear within this shear of madness

anything is possible

Why just yesterday 

I swear I heard about a school

of peaceful philosophers 

about to plunder a small town 

 poem of the day September 17

It is a brisk morning

for a maple tree

Green leaves shivering

in a chilly sea

Yet the morning chill 

is not so cold 

Is more of a reminder

of what's in store

I see the sun has

now drifting up

to warm maple me

from roots to trunk

 poem of the day September 16

A few days

before the frost

Canada Cold 

on the way

Flowers still

red, white 

and blue

Big petals still

Proud and full

I wonder if

they like

all of America

know the final

fate of time

 poem of the day September 15

Japanese knot-weed

is in full bloom

spreading over

the river banks 

swaying in the breeze 

A lovely wash of white and green

It looks so very beautiful

so very perfectly Zen

I am an old proud samurai riding

over a grand Japanese countryside 

until I come across a smothered dead oak

It is then I realize I am not in Japan

 poem of the day September 14

The train inside

rides the bony

rails of a lifetime

The miles logged on

the big red engine 

pile up the years

The fuel of youth

becomes fleeting 

Cluttered with a track

full of experience

There the wise calmly

pick through the tunnels

to reach into the mystery

of a long open soul

 poem of the day September 13

The emotion

of hugging

is drifting

down the stairs

Put on hold

I am told

This absence of

human touch

is too much

for a world

built on trust

 poem of the day September 12

Mirror

Mirror

I have 

been told

Could tell

the future 

of every fold

It saw 

the image

as everyone

But reflected

the moment

one by one

 poem of the day September 11

Westward

Eastward

Northward

Southward

Windward

Downward

Upward

Inward

Outward

Backward

Forward

Toward

Untoward

Whatward?

 poem of the day September 10

A family of blue birds

on a settled afternoon

fly from tree to tree

In the next room

a cricket sings a song

of luck and happiness

Off in the distance

I can hear the little 

round pool pump

still chugging along

like the little engine 

that could 

Somehow it has made

it through the season

Outside the stillness

is a little bit melancholy 

A hue of late summer loss

is reflected in the leaves

wearing a slight tinge of red 

This red mixes in a happy sad way

very well with the blue of bluebirds

 poem of the day September 9

Something about

being on the summit

of the state's highest peak

peering down granite cliffs

that open over long valleys

Standing there admiring 

the magnificent endless view 

I am reminded of the words 

of a great beat poet

"You can't fall off mountains"

I feel every word of this wisdom

yet I am very careful not

to get too close to the edge

 poem of the day September 8

Where did summer go?

How did it drift by?

Did I sleep the time away?

I don't remember much

only that the world was 

stopped by interruption

Frozen in limbo back

somewhere in springtime

Do any of you remember?

Was the summer hot?

Did the birds come

into your courtyard?

Were the flowers beautiful?

The sunrises special?

Was the moon big and full?

I just don't know

When I finally opened my eyes

it was labor day 

Summer was over and

the virus was at the beach

swimming among the masses

 poem of the  day September

The sunrise

over Saddleback

pokes my soul

Driving into Vermont

Reminds me of

the marvel of 

morning light

 poem of the day September 5

I watched a shimmer wind

toss a full sail of leaves

into the crisp morning air

steering a sedentary tree 

toward a bouncy voyage

on a long wavy wet-less sea

 poem of the day September 4

How to be general

of your own being

Commander of 

your own soul

is a trick or treat

found fighting inside

the world of desire

In the skin of vanity

I see the blob of masses

drawn toward addiction

like screens of screaming

loud yellow zombies 

alive with someone's

something's essence

To be you, to not be you

that is the riddle one needs

to solve to avoid the trap of deception

 poem of the day September 3

Open to

Open with

Open into

I see ideas drift

up to doors

where they bang 

against change

Recoil and bang again

until finally

the ancient lock

the ancient block

splits wide open 

as if it were the universe

 poem of the day September 2

Rotten wood

of ocean piers

battered by 

endless tides

still have 

the strength 

to survive

I see these docks

within my dreams

the water logged 

posts of ancient time

I see boats moored

all around the world

safe as clams in oyster pearls

 poem of the day September

The fall of grace

does not interrupt 

the lust of power

in craving souls

with no concern

of human morality

If all one sees 

in the sacred mirror

is their own selfish reflection

then the wind of good

becomes tangled in 

some nightmare 

some powerful 

version of hell