Primeval Old or New

 (With reference to the new Netflix series  "American Primeval" )

Slanted harmonica tunes fade in afternoon dust,

light and shadow play across splayed bodies

spread out in bloody sand, scattered with

arrows and bottles, belts and bullets and guns.

On the corpse-strewn roadways of the American West,

how many weary souls have been laid to rest.

After striving and seeking and travel through expanse

Ducking, dodging and weaving to make advance.

What price does freedom carry when you’ve shot

your spouse, and flee across vast territories?

Whose god should take precedence when the law

is not around to watch, and protect the innocents?

Blood spills red every time, no matter which mangled

body it escapes from, no matter how tortuous the journey.

Native tribes, military officers, settlers or tavern owners

can offend each other so that killing ends up the solution.

Stymied harmonica tunes fade off in the afternoon light,

A myriad of shadows color laid or splayed bodies.

The sand is caked red with human despair and detritus,

along with arrows and bottles and belts and guns.

A hundred-fifty years later the whole miserable tableau

is hidden and covered by immense concrete and steel;

New civilization obscures the old in gleaming magnificence.

Human beings never change, however, so new blood

still gets spilled on presently decaying streets all around.

Wildfire January

 

Wildfires coat the air with orange and soot,

fire hoses, detritus and bodies underfoot.

Another mega-disaster unfolds in the west,

putting our recovery abilities to the test.

Hurricanes, flooding, snowstorms and wildfires

create so much human misery, and they require

all of us to work together to recover

from the many disasters we encounter.

Surely it is within our collective DNA

to rally together and commit all to the fray.

Perhaps redirect resources to fight these battles

facing us on so many fronts, keeping us rattled.

Times like these try the hearts of all human beings

challenge us to overcome devastation and miseries.

Happy New Year 2025

 

HNY 25

On this New Year's Day we stand,

With hopes and dreams close at hand.

The past behind, the future bright,
A canvas fresh, in morning light.

The fireworks loud, the year turns new,
A promise by the sky's deep blue.
We'll chase the stars, with hearts aglow,
And in each step, let our courage grow.

Old shadows fade, but lessons stay,
Guiding us or turning hairs grey.
A brand-new start, a chance to be,
Who we have yet to dare to see.

So raise a glass, both young and old,
To stories new and tales retold.
This year is ours, a path to pave,
With hope to carry, strong and brave.

Happy New Year, the journey's here,
Let's greet it with a cheer, sincere.
For every day, a chance to find,
A brighter world, and peace of mind.

Trees or People

 

A tree crashes down distantly in a forest,

Not acknowledged or heard by many.

Another human being passes away,

and is honored by so many friends.

Lives touched, affected, enhanced.

Memories made – new associations.

The loss of another person who figured

so large in a community’s goings-on.

Sometimes several trees will topple.

Mudslides, severe weather can uproot many.

Age and diseases can also eliminate many lives,

sometimes all at once, in a rush.

We wonder what is happening,

what is really going on.

Just the cruel vagaries of fate,

or some hidden sinister machinations?

One can never be sure;

just honor the memory of those lost,

and keep on trudging on,

creating new memories to treasure.

Twas The Week Before Christmas

 

Not many creatures were stirring,

except in war-torn places abroad.

Some general got eviscerated in Moscow,

Another school got blown up in Ukraine.

Israeli bombs raining down on Syria,

New settlements on the blueprints there.

The Chinese broke a rocket launching record,

closing in on that SpaceX Starlink success.

Health insurers are busy erecting concertina wire,

while the trial of a murderer/folk hero proceeds.

New cabinet picks are garnering screams

of dismay on capital hill and in homes all over.

The quiet jingles of Santa’s sleigh unfortunately

drowned out by drone traffic all over the place.

Could that jolly red elf even land on your roof,

without colliding with some buzzing idiot above?

One can hope for a pleasant enough season this year,

Amazon and Fedex taking over delivery of good cheer.

Perhaps shut off the news feeds and editorial screeds,

renew friendships and loves, wish each other a happy new year.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays and all the best to humanity.

Give each other a helping hand, that we may bond in new fraternity.

Retirement is...

 

Watching a leaf fall from a tree, sail all the way down

to join the others gathered below, a quorum.

Listening to a squirrel chatter or chew a nut,

look up at it sitting on a branch, just being a squirrel.

Strolling along a bike trail listening to a stream gurgle.

Looking at different plants, trying to distinguish species.

Remembering what some of them are named,

but by now most are familiar sights on the trail.

No place to be in the next several hours,

or all day for that matter. Time slows some.

Retirement is time to make the bed, and dress slower.

Time to muse on which direction the day will take.

Life is so fleeting in any case,

why do we hurry up and spend it so much faster.

Our “hanging dewdrop” will burst soon enough.

No reason to panic and make things worse.

We’ll find out soon enough if destined to heaven or hell,

or nothing at all beyond that bright light ahead.

May as well enjoy our brief walk on this Earth,

not dwelling on heaven’s delights, or hell’s frights.

Memories of a Friend

 

Some corner of heaven reserved for sonnets

is likely stuffed with many familiar poets.

And some not as well known,

nor with nearly as much renown.

But special ones who were also friends

are surely there, having made amends.

One in particular I’ll never forget,

a mentor and friend who protected

those around him from various pitfalls.

Thanks to him we avoided real downfalls!

I can envision Jim Dunlap out there somewhere,

hosting some informative lyrical poetry get-togethers.

Perhaps populated by other local luminaries departing

this world, they host heaven’s latest poetry readings.

Unforgettable down here, popular out there,

our friend and fellow poet is favored everywhere.

We may not miss your cantankerous ways, old bard;

But we will treasure your memory in highest regard!

(Jim was a good friend of mine, and a great guy. He has been published on several continents around the world, and was also an active presence in online forums like Allpoetry, where he encouraged young poets to hone their craft. Goodbye and godspeed, my friend.)

(Wikipedia entry for Jim, for those interested:  Jim is an associate editor of Sonnetto Poesia, and he has been published in over 90 publications, including Potpourri, Candelabrum, Mobius, the Paris/ Atlantic, and online in Poetry Life and Times, Poetry Repair Shop, The Poets' Porch, and many others. He is a resident poet on Poetry Life & Times. He has been in the Writer's Digest top 100 in 3 categories, rhymed verse, unrhymed verse and the literary short story.^[1] He is listed in the Marquis Who's Who In America, the Marquis Who's Who In The World, and in the Directory of American Poets and Fiction Writers which is a publication of Poets and Writers Magazine.