The Day the Earth Started Standing Still
Hi, I am a hard working mother, mother nature
How do you like how I have always done Autumns
I feel certain they are the way you like them
good because they need to be that way
and look at you
picking a doctor a day away in Minnesota apples
kicking round those shades of brown loving
the leaving of the leaves of green to linger
until they fall to proper copper and the
leaf artists take their easels to New England
I’m in mind of a tender hearted boy
clearing and piling enough corn stalks
to lie reverently in the waning warmth
of a feebling Faulknerian Mississippi Sun
Didn’t you know I saw you looking into
first fall of snow helter skeltering
your headlighted night vision
in high desert hiway dark
reducing to redolent photos
flakes in your field of
focal length and out the cornea
of your eyes
Imagine some other mother of nature
making moribund more beautiful than that
As I try to get the fox out of my sox and hat
Yep, just being hep to my artsy concept
Hey, I’m Mother Nature
not the legislature
I’m of eerie executive stature this
mother of invention with intention
Just imagine! I know you cannot!
Until they come
But seasons change, don’t they
Until they don’t
Hey I am telling you I’m moribund too
Getting a little gray can’t continue to stay
I get tired lately its harder than it used to be
Pretentious humans say
Don’t say anything bad
I’m not talking to you
Some of you have insight
enough to see in night
you have enough light
to know I’m right
to know I cannot stay
I’m just saying Hey
I have to go away
And, I am not coming back
until you humans are gone
I’m moribund too
And I am a well done blue
I have to defect I’ll resurrect
Winter will be hell here without me
Spring won’t scene with green
like I sprang springs before
some summer’s end the truth will dawn
I’m not coming back until you are gone
You can pray until the day turns black
pray until your faith starts to crack
I am not coming back
UnTil you are gone
Whether you dislike poetry or dislike baseball I am betting you will like both with the visual, oral, and textual delivery of this sensational game in three strikes. The video presents Strike Two which sits, all nine innings, in the middle of the three strike narrative as seen in the text below the video. Enjoy!
The last time I was in Memphis
was poetic Continue reading Sensational Game
For audio version, click on the following link after adjusting volume. The blind can receive the audio as an email attachment. See bottom of post.
Audio: I Was A Seeing Eye Dog
I have said the following before. If you have heard it before look at it like this. I have told myself this story so many times and I continue to listen to myself.
My first job was a seeing eye dog, a dog trained be a blind person’s eyes. School was never a problem for me, learning wise. I skipped school a lot in the early grades. I was my father’s seeing eye dog. Continue reading I Was a Seeing Eye Dog
1999 – A prolific time song wise. Why not? It was a helluva year! My backyard was the last clean diving spot on the south Florida coast. Revery made me dig out that year’s tunes. I pass them on to you pretty much as I recorded them. The mp3 of Soaring is here. Click on the title link. Listen here and/or download. Lyrics and more story below that.
Continue reading Singing Farewell to a Century – Soaring
The slow read of a good rumination producing novel is not frequent enough. Is it. But that slow read is so valuable as to be priceless, especially when the slow read is Catherine Ryan Hyde and especially when the story is Don’t Let Me Go.
I am re-reviewing this book for several reasons….
Ipodable audio included. Continue reading Review of Don’t Let Me Go by Catherine Ryan Hyde
The photo below was taken by Deanne Goodwin at The Dumps. The Dumps is a paraglider area on the coastal high cliffs above the border between Pacifica and Daily City south of SF. The red tailed hawk is known to hang out in paraglider areas. Both are hunters of the same prey: optimal flying.
Continue reading Red Tailed Hawks and Paragliders
This article is about my coming to know the writings and person of Deepak Chopra and how he, in fact and perhaps unknowingly, saved my life. To the degree it became worth living.
I fly paragliders. See?
Continue reading Deepak Chopra and Paragliding and I