Blind Mastery

 

The blind man embraced
the new having been burned
by the old’s silvery
tongue too many times.

Sounds simple unless
you have ever tried to
step into traffic
after having been lied to.

The blind man used to listen
to voices and footsteps
to navigate the separation
of true from false.

But lately new sight
appears according to vision
possibilities are scattered
and a spread fashioned.

Get out of the foxhole
walk over the minefield.

Space and dimension sensed
a center is calculated
apprehensively committed to
thus decision created.

The blind man employing
the novel and nonvisual
method began enjoying
more success than usual.

Making his slow way
to the apex of a cluster
of facts he could leap in
as a stumbling sort of mastery.

The blind man replaced
principle with the mathematics
of geometric guesswork
with apoplectic accuracy.

 

Advertisements

Can Do

Know what you can do
and know what you cannot do.
See all that you can do
but know what’s real
and what’s simply
salesmanship.

Fly to Mars and Venus
but think twice about Jupiter
make sure to take enough food
and enough reading materials.
On the trip back
write your book.

Every generation has
its own idea of the possible.
What’s on the horizon
depends on where you’re at
and whether you’re simply
full of it.

Cancer claims a victim
every hour every day
but lack of imagination
is a vile scourge
a minute-by-minute
war of attrition.

Jesus was a great teacher
but all his students went astray
turning parables into rules
and fools into saints
and saints into fools
until what is ain’t.

What can be done I don’t know.
I just know it’s more than
what we did last year
or the year beore.
How much more is unclear.

Cancer claims a victim
every hour every day
but lack of imagination
is a vile scourge
a minute-by-minute
war of attrition.

Futures Swoop

If I have learned one thing after
putting to bed that damn sun
year after year it is that each
future has a different future.

Returning to the cave after feasting
the chill of the next six months
bounces at dawn ground to moon
and back altered just so.

Sleepily shivering shoulders rubbed
we are social in the daytime dark
all that needs to be known in the safe
colony flutters obviously.

But in the black this secret flies
in avoidance under strictly simple
algorithms that synchronize our
catching and not crashing.

While I hunt if you can call it that
nose ahead and mandible down
I consume and ponder possibility
blind I see all changing.

My friends and I will grow slow
wanting but reluctant to explore
plumpness turned to leathery bone
less thought more dream.

Ah yes undeniably it will be
cold and long before the swarms
return above the sweet greening
pastures of easy glut.

In comings and grand goings
what is ahead will still be
contemplated as we swoop with
months open minds clear.

If I have learned one thing after
putting to bed that damn sun
year after year it is that each
future has a different future.

 

[note]  This is another riddle poem.

Answer: bats

Vision is Peripheral

 

[A]
Being healthy keeps me
from writing
too much writing keeps me
from living
vision is peripheral.

All the things I bought
to get ready
to be going have faded
or been lost
vision is peripheral.

[B]
Early years of allegory
spit in the corner of my eye
after decades
some things are clearer now
others are monstrous
upshots delayed
fed on habit
locked in cloets to play
I am getting ready to
be conscious.

[C]
Sky seemingly blue
and yet
my eye cannot be true.

I apprehend you
and yet
do I even have a clue?

[A]
I drink and drink until
I can’t eat
years of chewing I’m unfilled
and incomplete
vision is peripheral.

[B]
Two tiny pinholes
one panoramic screen
don’t confuse me
some things are music that
used to be noisy
creature of jazz
I popularize
nonsense and I organize disarray
getting ready to make
gold from gray.

 

 

[A]
E9 /// Am7 /// AMa7 /// Gm7 ///
E9 /// [6/4] Abm7 Bbm7 Am7 Gm7 F7 /
[4/4] A /// CMa7 ///

[B]
Bm7 ///
D / Eb9 D9 G7 ///
A13 ///
Bm7 ///
D / D7 / D ///
B7 ///
A7 / Ab7 G7 Am /
Am / CMa7 / Bbm7 / C7 / ////

[C]
B7 // Cm7 / Eb9 /
D9 / F#m7 /// G7 ///

 

Belonging To

Belonging to today
tremendous in its gaze
and even when the sun
reverts to rain
we stare at each other.

On my price tag is written one
no discount and no refund.
New, used, upgraded,
rebuilt or tailor-made
belonging to.

Belonging to amour
to not getting enough
tomorrow sneaks a peek
our backbones bent
toward central park.

On my collar a leash to the sky
all faters are demystified
stars serve my mistress’s
bright, long-term interests
and I belong to.

Belonging to you
an old interview
repeated with a cutting
question or two
about who is happier.

Despite

I had my own voice
early in life
it said be true
instead of nice.

But expectations
had the upper hand
the shoulds kept could
from taking a stand.

Youth was boss
of my middle years
whispering go
in stopped ears.

There were times
when I would
but now I’d rather
just be good.

When tempted
to act like twenty
reasons not to are
big and plenty.

Man surrounded by
lights and noises
swallows with that
pill its choices.

The circus tent
covers three rings
no room for normal
until it’s over.

I had my own voice
early in life
it said be true
instead of nice.

In the pipeline
from then to then
what’s always been
will be again.

A fold in my soul
places my right
over the left
despite being opposite.

Deliberately

 

Deliberately
the moon wanes
in the most hopeful
futility Orion
pursues the seven
sisters’ virgin
waxing wisdom.

Mars reddens
without knowing
whether the itch
may be mitigated
as it approaches
our aggravated
point of view.

Stentorian but
not satisfied
the polestar sets
a record nightly
for stubborn fixity
consistent in light
of dazzling flux.

If only I
could make myself
follow these luminous
and inanimate examples
I could keep
you shining in
my orbited eye.