The Goal is Less, the Result is More

 

Keep trying to do less each day,

but more and more gets in the way.

A simple stroll becomes accumulating steps,

Puttering in the garden, weeding and sweat.

Watching some TV becomes muting and searching,

surfing the Internet just more email ad deleting.

Maybe I could end all of the political ad cursing,

and settle in for some relaxing book reading.

Visiting some friends for a meal can be enjoyable,

after the freeway trip and breathing returns to normal.

What happened to that nine-hour shift eating my days?

Shouldn't I be rejoicing right now, happy and gay?

The pleasant thing about work was it was predictable,

each day's schedule the same, my routine felt normal.

There was no guilt or need to justify my idleness

reassuring myself that it was exercise, not laziness.

Now each day is unique, my schedule all my own.

Only I am to blame if something does go wrong.

Often I think about some part-time work position;

but intimidated, I regress to an idle situation.

It is just too comfortable doing my own thing,

So I'll put off until next week any desire to fling

myself back into a world of frenetic job stress.

I'll get over the little things, not get distressed.

Maybe I'll look for something next week,

or next month, or even next year.

I'll find new ways to have fun, never fear.

But

Every time I try to do less, I end up doing more -

that has become painfully clear.

Have a peaceful and wonderful day,

with gratitude and a dose of good cheer.

Some Haiku Fun

 

rolling mists of time,

past and future obscured;

me in the mirror?

Childhood last century,

looking ahead towards the next;

My feet are time travelers.

Best things come in threes;

Even good relationships?

Wow, those sure went fast.

Superstition means

little compared to the truth;

always check your realities.

Getting Through an Immensity

 

The one everyone can't wait to get through,

from Julesberg, CO, to Omaha, Nebraska.

Long, long slogs to gas or bathroom stops,

rest areas that vary but are all welcome.

Colorado has the colorful mountains,

Iowa the rolling green hills.

In between is one very long stretch of road,

used by thousands every day in transit.

Being a throughput state is useful,

giving a purpose to supposed nothingness.

Wider highways and deeper river-ways can

augment busy rail corridors east or west.

Every state has some advantage;

Nebraska's is as a gentle ramp to the west,

or flat corridor the other way back.

Even a thru-way is an honorable entity.

Nebraskans can hold themselves in high esteem,

as cattle ranchers, farmers, railroad workers and

yes, people that oversee the great migration of people,

both ways, past and through any semblance of delays.

North Platte, Kearney, Grand Island, Lincoln, Omaha. . .

the five great signposts throughout a flat immensity.

One drives through these areas determined and exits proud.

They do maintain their rest areas well, thank goodness!

See you on the other side.

Some Local Observations

 

So much shrill polarization emanates

from my most frequently watched screens.

Soon have to shut them off, find distractions.

Must be something else besides angry screeds.

What a pleasure, then, to visit the local observatory;

have a lecture take one back in time to a genius

mathematician forging new paths of understanding.

Our cosmos was not just some painted sky,

but far more vast and interesting.

Johannes Kepler not only advanced astronomy,

he wrote perhaps the very first science fiction novel.

The lecture and discussion moved back and forth over time,

taking the audience out of humdrum quotidian antagonisms,

touching instead on stellar measurements and laws of motion.

What a delight to discover these astronomical treasures;

to know that some minds are not slinging political sewage,

rather reaching out far distances to advance human comprehensions.

Gratifying to go to a facility spreading knowledge, not manure.

It will be so good to have the 2026 election over,

and resume full-time pleasant gazing at some stars.

9-11-01 plus 25

 

Back during the time of the 9/11 attacks I lived

in the front room of a friend – working two jobs.

Experiencing events over and over on CNN.

Anxiety and alarms were everywhere!

I dreamed of jets crashing during fitful sleep.

A new federal department was created,

and the last of our innocence was lost.

Now we had to go through security cordons

everywhere – security became the new sexy.

But I survived, kept on, maintained.

We moved and he bought a house. . .

Eventually I bought a little house on my own,

started gardens and shrubs, perennials.

Babies I nursed through many seasons.

Watched them all grow and bloom and fade,

trimmed back Spireas, dug and replanted Cannas.

Hibiscus were culled and encouraged, Cosmos

seeded and then helped along, year after year after year.

Raspberries and Aronia planted and then harvested

with much satisfaction, despite all of the mosquitoes.

Our national leadership started several wars,

some finally withering away due to

faltering political fertilization.

New leaders began new wars.

It seems like everything keeps going downhill,

and there are no easy answers for turning it around.

Friendships, too, got seeded and nurtured over time.

Now some are like tall trees, withstanding storms.

Others get neglected, and wither away.

Some of those are missed, but

one gardener only has so much energy to go around.

Now here 25 years after the Twin Towers attacks,

some still stand here and regard the tragedies;

missing those that were lost, mourning their loss

from a misty distance of time, always wondering

how we could do things better the next time around.

Riders of Steel

 

They brave the night and cold,

rain and wind and snow unfold.

Risking life and limb, or at least

an angry Bull here and there,

they grab on, lever up into a

IM, grainer pocket, or even a gondola.

Catching out for far destinations,

route mapped out on their phones,

they hunker down, but lift a camera

so that the rest of us can watch too.

Once thought a dying breed,

their numbers swell with younger hoboes.

These have no trouble at all navigating

and documenting their every move online.

Surely the railroad workers and managers

are noticing this – they can also access Youtube.

But somehow, despite it all, the riders persist.

They describe issues like food and water and sleep,

all scarce when waiting in the brush for an outbound.

Much advance planning makes their rides smoother.

For me it would be far simpler to just buy

an Amtrak ticket. 

 But where is the romance in that?

Safe travels, everyone.

For the Good of our Community

 

The Amos collective does a lot of good,

as a community organization should.

Many churches' congregations join together,

address community problems, mainly secular.

Disparate ideologies can find common ground

on social justice, and make improvements all around

our local area, upon issues that need attention –

capitalism needs safety nets for our protection.

We can set aside our minor differences,

unite to work out municipal difficulties.

There is great strength in large numbers,

whether or not all are active members.

Just imperfect humans extending care and love,

whether or not there's any thundering god above.