No Dispensation

Tomorrow will arrive right on time.

There's no getting around it.

We will live in that future.

Together.

So,

We must build a brilliant foundation,

Today.

Love over hate.

Compassion over rage.

Sincerity over sarcasm.

Humility over hubris.

Empathy over indifference.

Learning over judgement.

Cast aside weaponized words and intent,

Fling open your two arms,

As well as your heart,

To embrace your enmity,

So that it may feel the thawing warmth of your love.

Waste no time on the foibles of others,

We all have our own to sort out.

Live and love.

All of us,

Human.

All of us a lover.

A friend.

Family.

We are all in this together.

Why pretend that there is anything else?

10/21/2020

California Parachute

When the cure is worse than the disease,

Small mosquitoes bring empires to their knees,

This false treasure of gold lamé loot,

California parachute...

Human nature is not my fault,

The animal in me won't stay locked in the vault,

Neanderthal in an Armani suit,

California parachute,

California parachute...

We cut off our face to spite our nose!

No, that's not right,

We got it backwards once again.

Our thirst for revenge can never be quenched,

Because we're bent on self-destruction...

Or so it seems.

In a forest of truth we can't see the trees,

Despite the warnings we still do as we please,

All in all we're just sputtering brutes,

California parachute,

California parachute.

4-29-2020

Six Things I Like Best About Quarantine

All this shelter-in-place, quarantine, socially-isolated, keep-your-distance stuff sucks! I don't need to tell you.

The whole thing's a mess. Furthermore, who knows what's really going on, why it's really happening, or when it will actually end? This new shut-in lifestyle is pretty scary. The fear can creep in if you let it. It's hard to keep a positive outlook when we're all wondering if we're in the middle of it all or if this is only the beginning.

It sort of feels like we've been catapulted past the in medias res catalyzing moment of a zombie movie. We missed the part where our heroes band together in a series of meet-cute mishaps and randomly intersecting plotlines in the midst of a global calamity. We skipped the part where everything's chaotic. We missed the scenes where zombies are swarming and quickly vanquished in creative ways, but the chase is on. We join the program currently in progress where, remarkably, just as Act Two begins, the heroes find their way into an abandoned science lab, complete with extra thick security doors and high-set windows, an impenetrable fortress where they can wait for the cavalry or the end of the world. One nervous scientist ushers our little motley group of survivors inside and beep-boop-bops the 24 hour timelock security code.

Here we are, in that moment just after the doors clicked shut. Locked in, warily eyeing each other, wondering if, somehow, during the melee, some, or all, of us were infected. We fight the suspicious urge to watch for signs of illness. We tamp down the fear that every odd feeling or strange tickle means that we ourselves are doomed. And what's with that sweaty, shaky scientist anyway?

The dawn will come. We just have to remember what Douglas Adams said, "Don't Panic!"

Staying positive. That's all we can do. Like all of us, this strange, strange moment has given me time to consider what I like best about quarantine. Since there's nothing else to do while we're all hunkering down in the bunker, allow me to enumerate some things I am grateful for right now.

One:

I realize that those butterflies I felt the first time I met her, way back in 1997, were not just a physiological spark surging through my body due to a super-charged libido. Those buzzing vibes were the universe ringing my soul's doorbell. I've always known, but now I really see that there is no one I would rather face the apocalypse with than her. She is my love, my partner, my friend to the end, (hopefully this isn't it.) I see how our unbreakable bond and partnership is fortified in this chaotic emergency. As in pre-lockdown life, we circle the wagons wordlessly, no-look-passing our way through the myriad obstacles that come our way. If anything gives me hope it's her.

Two:

My children, our eternal sunshine, our immortal future. Despite the racket outside our gates, nothing matters more than them. Their well-being, their safety and sanity. Being together is wonderful, nevermind the reason. They find ways to occupy their time in beautiful ways. Our ceilings and halls echo equally with their giggles, as well as their occasional pitched squabbling. What's better than being stuck inside indefinitely with people you love more than yourself?

Three:

Dinner every night. Sitting down at the table. Just us. Not that we didn't do that before, but now, as we pretend that everything is normal, it seems more important. I realize it always was.

Four:

The thrill in finding ways to meet the challenges that face us personally and professionally. I love watching as my colleagues yearn to connect and support their students. I relish the time spent on video chats just so my students can say hi to me and each other. I value the time all the teachers who teach my own children spend creating content for them to continue their education remotely. We're going to get through it, but we can't let things fall to disrepair in the meantime. The British wartime admonition to Keep Calm and Carry On comes to mind.

Five:

The creativity blossoming in so many disparate places and disciplines. The spirit of sharing, (despite the toilet paper hoarding), becoming a tenet of this moment, even if it's just a smile and a friendly wave. Authors issuing blanket statements of permission to use their works. Tech companies opening up the paywall to let the masses in. There will be time for more money, but for now it seems that our altruistic nature is running the show.

Six:

Artists doing what artists do, giving us hope, sharing their souls, gifting a worried world with small wonders of genius and joy. A generosity of spirit rolling out from all across the globe. All technologically connected and unafraid. Open hearts freely flowing with whimsy and love.

So, batten the hatches, but block out the noise. Most stuff in this life is out of our hands. This is no different. Our outlook, though, that is entirely under our control, so make lemonade or cookies or something cool!

3-25-2020

Arrrgggghhhhhh, We're All Gonna Die!!

Here it comes again,

Doomsday.

Another virtually literal apocalypse,

Dragging us into herd-like panic,

A panic seen most commonly,

In truth,

On muddy riverbanks,

Near crocodile-infested waters.

Psychosomatic symptoms,

Swirling soundlessly in my stomach,

Seriously smothering my soul,

Surrounding my sanity,

Screaming,

"Surrender!"

Mental media manipulations,

Mucking up my mind,

Mostly malarkey,

Maybe measurable,

Medicinal mapping,

Meaning militant measures,

Meted out in maximum manic milieu.

In the dark,

It's hard not to feel like we're all sick,

Or about to be,

Or have been,

Or will be,

Always.

It's hard to remember,

That in fact,

It's all just temporary.

3-13-2020

Haiku: Day 29

Green open fields,

Backed up against new tract homes,

Recreated youth.

2-29-2020

Haiku: Day 28

Haiku on my mind,

Just tumbling toward chaos,

Some things don't make sense.

2-28-2020

Haiku: Day 27

An entire year,

This calculated orbit,

Some fun with fractions.

2-27-2020

Haiku: Day 26

Something starts to bloom,

Hearts and souls and gorgeous days,

Each season a gift.

2-26-2020

Haiku: Day 25

You know what they say:

"Laissez les bons temps rouler."

Give up, don't give in.

2-25-2020

Haiku: Day 24

That old north wind blows,

Lifting up all my spirits,

And chapping my lips.

2-24-2020

Haiku: Day 23

Winter threatens still,

But not on this sunny day,

Small, green buds peek out.

2-23-2020

Haiku: Day 22

Just look around you,

Like beauty dripping diamonds;

Fresh new blades of grass.

2-22-2020

Haiku: Day 21

Aching for the past,

A warm and familiar time,

Gone like leaves in fall.

2-21-2020

Haiku: Day 20

We learn from mistakes,

When we pay close attention;

If we are lucky.

2-20-2020

Haiku: Day 19

Such a wide world,

So go on to where you please;

With your arms open.

2-19-2020

Haiku: Day 18

Start with a smile.

Each day just a short series;

Moments of sunshine.

2-18-2020

Missing Home (Haiku: Day 1)

Here, I am in fog.

Sun baked red rock, desert skies,

These thoughts keep me warm.

2-1-2020

Haiku: Day 17

Not a single time,

When you made me who I am,

No, it was always.

2-17-2020

Haiku: Day 16

Whatever you see,

When you look in the mirror,

Learn to live with it.

2-16-2020

Haiku: Day 15

Muy potente,

El cerebro nuestro.

¡Es imparable!

2-15-2020

Haiku: Day 14

Oh, Arizona,

Transplanted; I fell in love,

Happiest birthday!

2-14-2020

Haiku: Day 13

We're blindly groping,

Tumbling toward destiny,

Just enjoy the ride.

2-13-2020

Haiku: Day 12

Far away the clouds,

Memories of pouring rain,

Winter is a bust.

2-12-2020

Haiku: Day 11

So simple to say,

Look ahead, but be here now;

Too often we wait.

2-11-2020

Haiku: Day 10

These bumps in the night,

Just mysteries to be solved,

Usually wind.

2-10-2020

Haiku: Day 9

Child's room paint scheme,

Sun hides behind Sierras,

Sky awash with light.

2-9-2020

Haiku: Day 8

Robert Palmer knew,

Enthralled by you since day one,

"Heart beats double time."

2-8-2020

Haiku: Day 7

There's no better place,

The end of every day,

I come home to you.

2-7-2020

Haiku: Day 6

Days I feel old,

Waiting for changes to come;

Late season nadir.

2-6-2020

Haiku: Day 5

Like spoiled children,

Clown and Confetti Maker,

At each other's throats.

2-5-2020

Haiku: Day 4

Our story is now.

What are we holding onto?

The past is fiction.

2-4-2020

Haiku: Day 3

Cold Iowa Night,

The what-ifs for three so bright;

Doomed pilot awaits.

2-3-2020

Haiku: Day 2

Fortune-telling farce,

Somewhere in Punxsutawney,

Spring is on the way.

2-2-2020

Haiku For You

Bright smiles like yours,

illuminate my journey;

just what I needed.

1-28-2020

The Things People Dream

Last night,

In my sleep,

I had a beautiful dream.

You showed up at my door,

Knocking happily, 

Greeting me with open arms.

Your smile was brighter than all the stars,

Like a breathe of life for my very soul.

We had so much to talk about,

Just like we did way back when.

And this morning,

Even as I know,

That will never happen again,

Your warm memory,

Just the simple fact that you existed,

It sets me right,

Fortifies my resolve as I continue on,

Without you.

1-17-2020

And Yet I Do Not Heed My Own Counsel

The rampant wit imbued,

This golden tongue possessed,

Duplicitously capable of love and war.

Simultaneously able to be dreadful,

And inspiring.

We use our immense power,

Our beautiful gift,

This sputtering speechifying,

For naught and nil,

All the wrong things,

Until,

All our intelligence amounts to so much spittle.

Occasionally our words may become us,

As when we build verbose abodes of warmth,

Of embrace,

Of decency,

Of family,

Of love.

Yet,

So seldom do they come near that ideal.

Rather,

These mouths of ours,

More often than not,

Become weaponized,

Antagonizing,

Caustic.

As when we choose to smite,

Or spite,

Or snidely divide.

Our words betray us,

Defile us.

When we use these clever syllables,

This cacophony of putridity,

To eviscerate rather than communicate,

We take ourselves further from truth,

Away from understanding.

These ugly sounds reverberate,

Echoing uselessly in our souls,

Creating shadows and doubt,

Summoning great demons of fear,

Costing us everything,

Leading us far afield,

Away from creation,

Closer to annihilation,

All while we're too dumb to listen.

Our wagging tongues serve no purpose,

Save one,

To swallow our pride.

For truthfully,

Whatever hill we choose to defend,

No savage insult,

No stabbing snark shall sway.

All our artful words,

Finely crafted to the letter,

Expertly sharpened,

Will always fail.

For,

To the ears of our opponents,

They remain like so many voices at Babel,

Making no sense whatsoever.

Let us,

Instead,

Lay down our brittle crowns of irony,

Let our wordsmith's furnace grow cold,

Shutter our parlors of pallid critique.

Our brutal salvos,

Always a zero sum endeavor,

Result in too many papercuts,

And I have no more bandages.

1-5-2020