Extremes

Unacceptably extreme

in 2014 USA to say

I am a  socialist 

but it nauseates me

to read one woman

pays $12,000 for

strappy red shoes

she brags she will

wear only once  while

another woman decides

to skip supper each winter

night to keep the heat on.

I can't keep swallowing the

lie that what we have is what'

we deserve.  Those  of us

with plenty may have earned 

it (or inherited it or married it)

Maybe we made better choices,

or maybe we were just luckier

or born with talents that pay well.

But everybody had a mother.

Easy to remember no tiny baby

 deserves more than any other.

Easy to forget when they grow up.

Hard to stomach responsibility

to care for one another. For me

capitalism unfettered has become

unacceptablly extreme. 

Just We Two (for Bob)

 We Two

 

So much truth.

Just we two know.

So many memories

Just we two share.

It has been hard

Just we two,

not against the world

but in it, together.

just we two.

It has been good.

So much work

just we can do.

So much love

Just we two feel.    

After Writing

There's a feeling behind my eyes

when I've written all day, an ache

I would exchange  for no pleasure.

 

My brain is tired.  I don't remember

what I ate, if I ate at all, forgetfulness,

I would exchange for no pleasure.

 

Words from  my mind ran my fingers,

flowed onto the screen, into my bones.

I fight the clock, the phone for this pleasure..

 

There's a feeling behind my eyes

when I've written all day, an ache

I would exchange  for no pleasure.

Resolve

People laugh at resolutions.

I do not understand why.

I need resolve.

I need to resolve.

It is too easy to drift,

to life on default.

I need to resolve

I need resolve

I do not understand why

People laugh at resolutions.

Wish

Last year I made good

choices and bad choices.

I came from love, 

and I came from ego.

This year will be the same.

I will make good choices'

And I will make bad choices.

May I come more from

love than from ego. 

Alive

Sitting the night
in the house
of the dead,
I treasure round
weight, rough orange
skin, rich aroma ot
tangerine in my hand.
Little sun reminds me
to rejoice in mysenses,
my beating heart, life.
I wonder if the deceased
knew the sweet tart taste
of tangerine on her tongue

Maybe

Skinny dark skinned man

hauled two heavy suit cases

onto the city bus, year end dusk.

He asked the driver for his stop,

but language failed.  She could

not understand a word he said.

Alien sounds tangled in the air.

Whatever place he fought to name,

she could not take him there.

He flapped hands, raised voice.

Driver ordered him to sit.  He sat.

I watched helpless as he made

the sign of the cross three times.

Desperation evaporated. He looked

up and recognized a land mark,

smiled, rang bell for next stop,

left bus in peace, relief.  Maybe

miracles happen every day.