In the Meantime   Wednesday, April 24, 2013

I post this week from Cloudcroft, New Mexico, high in the Sacramento Mountains. We left Sunday and have been traveling since.

Leaving me no time for my normal "Here and Now" post. In the meantime, I have this very short, stand-in post. It includes only the several poems I did during the days before we left San Antonio and a few old pictures (because I always have pictures).

Making my contents list easy - it's all about me.

These are my poems for this abbreviated post:

what a fool might have to say

communication, mis-communication, ex-communication

the rules of wax and wane

sleeping in

don't bother

morning briefs

coffee with a friend

new stories


I wrote this a couple of weeks ago; still waiting to find out how  it works out.

what the fool  might have to say

out of my comfort zone
next  week

I will make
or I will make a fool,
that  fool

how refreshing
to  face
such a challenge,
the ambitious
one says,
how noble should you
a fool for art,
to  win or to lose, to strive
unfamiliar lands,
to pass through the forests
of doubt

but ambition
is an unforgiving bitch

so perhaps
see  what the fool has to  say
about it
next week

This one was suggested by a friend who mentioned the trip she had planned.

communication, mis-communication, ex-communication

I know someone
who  is going  to  take  a trip
to England, Scotland, and Ireland...

sounds interesting,
but I prefer places  like
New Mexico and Colorado
where they have mountains
and speak

it's the reason
I don't go to Mississippi
or Alabama,
can't understand a word they say,
some version of  English
spoken through a mouthful
of  cornmeal

and Louisiana,
who  the hell  knows
what they're talking about
in Louisiana

but then I don't  understand
half of what my son says either,
some 25th century
that takes him four and a  half seconds
to  say what I might say
in four and a half  minutes

I think you need to be
a Spock-
trained mind-
to achieve  comprehensive

so 21st century
of me,
I don't have a  clue

I was watching a waning  moon late at  night and thought of how  universal is the cycles of rise and fall, wax and wane.

the rules of wax and wane
like the moon
in its orbit
the tides
as they rise and fall
like dark to light;
sunset to  dawn
like the bluebonnet,
seed to blue meadow
stirring to gentle spring
to  seed
all obey the rules
of wax and wane
all but
our kind struggling
against every natural rule
like a sun that  refuses
to set
or a moon that stops
in  mid-sky, halfway through
its east to west
struggle through
our waning
seek to deny the inevitability
of the natural
of all that is
it is  what makes us human
it  is what  makes us special
it is what makes us such a danger
to all that follow
the rules

I usually wake up  early. Sleeping, I found a whole new world.

sleeping in

slept  late
this morning,
felt like I had earned
an hour or
of extra time

walked my dog
and my cat
in daylight, a different world
than the dark
when we make our usual circuit

a quarter to eight,
cars rushing to work,
crowding East and West Rolling Ridge
on either side of Apache Creek

between the two streets,
the meadow that borders
the creek, lush green,
wildflowers, pink and white
and blue, all grown in the week
since the small rain,
less than half an inch
but enough to encourage
the life-force that lies
within us, and around us,
and  beneath  our feet where seeds
lie in wait for the moment
of opportunity
go grow, to flower...

but not  overpowering,
lying in small places
for its moment...

around here
you have to look for it

I had a bad day last week. Feeling bad and more than a little  grumpy, posted this so the world would know to stay away.

Won't deny I had  a little William Carlos  Williams in the back of my mind.

don't bother
this note
to announce
that I  feel like
and am abandoning
the human race
for  the remainder
of this day
don't bother
to knock, human,
for  I will not

Also from last week, operating on a short  string,  short  attention  span.

morning briefs
chirp and chatter,
morning sun breaks
the last surviving dark
stops to pee,
cat  loses interest,
goes home
lightning  blasted
still stands, hollowed  out,
supported by the force of habit
clatter at the VFW,
old soldiers never  die,
they just play moon
till the habit of life,

coffee with a friend
with a friend,
a chance meeting,
dull routine
passes  from behind
a cloud
lights the


new stories
this time tomorrow,
beginning our drive to  El  Paso,
500 miles plus some more,
mid-40 degrees when we leave,
low-80s when we get there
in late afternoon,
a long drive, often driven,
often told, to be told again
not today
the day after,
to Cloudcroft, New Mexico,
tiny village at
9,000 feet,
mountains and forests,
fresh clean air,
mid-40s when when leave El Paso
mid-50s mid-day when we reach
the village, new roads to
new stories to be told

One last piece before we take  to the road again.´╗┐
9 a.m. - 
rolling,  rocky hills of central Texas
covered in oak and cedar,
then desert
and more desert
and more desert
sand and cactus
cactus and sand
El Paso
in the setting sun ahead,
the smoggy stink of diesel  buses
in Cuidad Juarez  settling  in the
orange glow of
bare mountain shadow
not the one,
not the other,
at once
we will sleep in the desert
between black

Short though this post might be, I still have books to sell.

And here's where I sell them:

Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBookstore, Sony eBookstore, Kobo, Copia, Garner's, Baker & Taylor, eSentral, Scribd and eBookPie


Places and Spaces

Always to the Light

Goes Around Comes Around

Pushing Clouds Against the Wind

And, for those print-bent, available at Amazon and select coffeehouses in San Antonio

Seven Beats a Second

Short Stories

Sonyador - The Dreamer



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