Botanical Order

The divine exists in nature,

I feel sure about that.

Looking around the backyard at the exploding daylilies,

being penetrated by groundcherries even as they swallow

the last remnants of my zinnias and columbine.

Said columbine is canted on its side, in death throes still spreading seeds.

Nature’s war is such an elegant expression of beauty and symmetry.

A portion of my backyard has been given leave to enjoy life!

Everything grows wild and reveals lush beauty.

Vines crawl along and push pentacle leaves up at the sky;

Tall weeds bristling with fine hairs sheen and sway in the sun.

Shorter ones sprout flowers and pull attention downward.

Everywhere tiny flying things dance and cavort, or just

dodge those flailing spiderwebs,

everything trying to eat everything else,

no one quite succeeding at anything besides

providing a visual feast for the human overseer,

himself a temporary occupant of this amazing

sliver of land on the East Side of Des Moines. Iowa.

I keep glancing at my watch

A trip to Mars is just around the corner,

We’re getting ready to launch any day now.

The massive rockets await the final order,

indifferent folks are about to be wowed.

We’re getting ready to launch any day now,

Technicians making last-minute preparations;

Indifferent folks are about to be wowed,

human voyagers prepare for long separations.

Technicians making last-minute preparations,

The launch window will be opening soon;

Human voyagers are prepared for long separations,

Big Falcon rockets thrust will make people swoon.

The launch window will be opening soon,

dreams of a new world beckon humanity;

Mighty rocket exhaust will make visitors swoon,

Colonizers will build habitats with audacity.

Dreams of a new world beckon humanity,

after a mountain of difficulties overcome;

Colonizers plan underground cities with audacity,

Many years after we thought it would get done.

A mountain of difficulties finally overcome,

The massive rockets given a final order;

Many years after we thought it would get done,

a trip to Mars is just around the corner.

(modified Pantoum)

The Art of Citying

On the river loop at night, adventures awaited.

So many memories were made, innocence lost.

The places stories were made in this city are unique,

hold a special charm that no other place can.

So many parks to make love or mischief in,

so many spots to learn a life lesson – or

teach one to some pupil,

whether they request it or not.

Fishing spots galore – hiking trails too;

Public plazas, recently re-constructed,

Joy for younger and older alike.

Just big enough to hold some gleam and some dirt;

whichever you are into, you can probably find it.

Churches are numerous here, by the way.

Old stories tend to float in the cyber-air,

I remember when…

could this happen in any other place?

Perhaps, but not in this particular way.

Loop Scoopers' reputations

sprouted, flared and then died

down on Grand or Locust.

Adolescence rounded many turns

on Second ave or 13^th St in days past;

some say it still goes on...

Some of the fights were legendary.

Some who met there stuck together long after.

Colleges and ball teams crystallized,

flourished and then faded away.

A convent was bulldozed to build a shopping center,

then it was named for a WW1 casualty.

A business institute flourished and then got de-instituted;

A north-set college was bulldozed to make room for another strip mall.

Cornfields were flattened, and the first auto drive in

shopping center sprouted, flourished, then slowly withered.

Today a convenience store claims a large chunk of that land.

City big wheels used to go shoot rats over on the south side dump;

Babe was big in boxing, then in the restaurant trade;

The Italians got an early toehold, then a foothold,

then ended up running things around these parts...

But they always knew how to concoct tasty feasts –

they still do.

What a conglomeration of races, purposes, and pursuits!

Des Moines seethed and bubbled, grew up big and tall by 1960…

then receded, withered a bit, and regrouped:

For that big push in the 1990s and beyond, to

reach its current growth surge, thousands more citizens

living, working and congesting the downtown areas

with enthusiasm and energy.

Sure hope this city doesn’t suffer the fate of places like

San Francisco, Denver or Pheonix.

Keep the secret, will you?

Small enough to know people and get around,

big enough to find anything you want,

even a good-paying insurance job.

Too much growth may end up

sickening this golden goose...

Shhhh.

DSCN6791

Cahokia Mounds - atop Monk's Mound.  Unreal to be standing where a thriving civilization carried out sacred rites nearly a thousand years previous.  Well worth the 6-hour drive down there to see it all. 

Massive Modern Monument

Massive steel base solid to the touch,

still gleams bright after fifty-plus years.

People even carve their initials into the sides,

which rise diffident into endless blue sky.

Takes longer than expected to get close,

then is larger than one would think...

One descends into a technological cavern,

all flashing video histories and displays,

every surface made into another presentation.

Model of old St Louis, complete with a

prosperous fur traders home. Antique

tools, crockery, bottles and ceramics.

Display after display tugs your eyes astray.

Finally one makes it past all of that,

for the place to the ultimate ride.

Oh, but don’t forget about security.

Place all personal items in the bin, then

walk through the scanner, and retrieve your stuff,

hmm, just like an airport. Oh well.

Then you encounter a tour guide, who leads

you to one of seven small cars for the ride up.

The combination is like an

Elevator, Escalator, Ferris Wheel.

You ratchet and pivot and raise up.

You see views of many, many stairs and

frameworks, struts and supports.

Four minutes later,

you arrive,

your car levels,

lines up to a door, and

presto, it opens.

You are there, 630 feet up, at the top!

A massive monument to modern civilization

lets us common folk go all the way up, and

look out over a metropolis, two states and a mighty river.

A rare and delightful experience, even if

they charge fourteen bucks to go up in it.

It was worth it.

Anxiety Unplugged

Anxiety rises up in me.

I sit here by a gurgling creek,

water coursing over toes,

sun dappling my surroundings.

Cardinals and blackbirds dodge and parry,

Many other species sing in the June air.

But

the peace of a beautiful afternoon threatens

to be overshadowed by concerns:

I left my phone at home,

computer turned off,

Wi_fi modem powerless.

Am sitting here here disconnected,

technologically blind on the sand...

And isn’t it wonderful?

New awareness tamps down anxieties;

Cardinals dance and chase dragonflies,

Sunbeams illuminate life-chocked air

coruscating above the stream.

“Just enjoy it” I think – totally offline,

no one to spy on me and soak up data,

except for that pesky robin,

and she is just worried about her eggs,

stashed somewhere in the brush nearby.

“Hey, this isn’t half-bad,” I think.

Gonna have to do this more often.

But the “civilized” part of me just cannot

stand it for very long.

I have things to do this evening, places to go.

In a mere twenty minutes,

I am re-shod, mounted back on my bike,

hugging the side of the road, pedalling back home.

A part of me still savors the sunshine and fresh air,

even as I anticipate online, wired gatherings that

loom just up around the corner and across the tracks.

Distinctions

 Like Hibiscus, Zinnias and Salvias in a garden,

different races add variety and color to society.

Like rebar adds strength to concrete,

so do other races add backbone to society.

Like flavoring and sauce on a casserole,

other races can add flavor and delight.

Like a new sport-utility vehicle loaded with options,

the variety of races give a lot of alternatives.

Like a metallic alloy combining several elements,

a good mix of races adds endurance and flexibility.

Like the most sophisticated semiconductors,

a rich mix of races adds intellectual prowess.

Whatever generation you come from,

one can agree that acceptance of other races

beside our own can be beneficial for society.

Critics will not be satiated

here at 61, still not bred,

got to get you out of my head,

Gaily at ease I stay in stead,

my critics will never be fed.

Changes come slow or fast,

I stick with my cohorts up to the last,

some have fled to death’s embrace,

Others stay behind, put on a brave face.

Relatively few of us still stand,

here in the barren Midwest;

we still work and play the best we can,

decorate, do some art, put on a fancy dress.

But never allow ourselves to get depressed,

we might miss one last party,

one last lucky trick to enjoy,

one more happy memory to create and express.

The critics will never stop,

but then again, neither will we.

On and on the circus goes,

yet slower and slower, awareness slows.

A gentle, rewarding grace in age at last,

allows an escape from hatred’s grasp.

We know better

or, a little trip of absurdity today.

Bitcoin, bitcoin, every little bitcoin,

stealthy financial sneak-ings all around.

Bitcoin, bitcoin, take another hit-coin,

pour another drink and drink it all up.

Launder that money, Russkies, send it

here and send it there and everywhere.

Our bankers won’t complain, won’t utter a peep.

No whistleblower will whistle a squeak.

Money is money, gold is gold,

everywhere you look, those rich are bold.

Baby boomers spend and get more old,

pill pushers keep pushing to help us cope.

LGBT rainbow bridges cross continents,

free the brave youth, save their lives.

New refugee movement to replace the old,

Where to put all of the dispossessed,

brutalized by their elite, the ever oppressed.

We could take them in, and get them undressed.

So much going on in the world today,

the terminator getting his back kicked,

our leader by his own party tricked.

Another presidential candidate whips

out his big attempt at a pirouette.

Rain, tornadoes, storms, flooding.

Human misery multiplies with absurdity.

Commercials pepper our brains with promises,

balmy pap reassures us it is just another day

in paradise.

We know better.

Ambrosia of the Lesser Gods

Day old Donuts are good for demeanor;

They deliver much delight, and usually

still taste delicious, especially when

warmed up with a dollop of butter.

Whether at an annual poetry convention,

or simply a Saturday morning at home,

They brighten up their surroundings,

colorful glazes invite salivating bites.

The price of new ones is enough to deter

a definitive decision to drop them in the cart.

But when evening approaches and the stores

drop the prices, minds change and more leave the store.

Diligent diets are deterred, for perhaps eternity,

when these delicious dainties are dangled eye-side.

It is enough to cause even the most libertarian diner

to grab em, curse and mutter: “There outta be a law...”

Space Time Excitement Loops

Whether describing an EM drive to

push spacecraft and ignore Einstein,

or talking up the 100-year Starship plan,

human eyes look to starry skies, desiring to fly.

Those tantalizing nuggets floating out there

may contain tons of gold and platinum!

All just waiting for the right company to exploit ‘em;

Dreamers keep eyeing and plotting and hoping.

Someday someone will make a crucial leap,

another will adjust a value here and there,

a third get some financing,

a forth talk some key official into it.

And it will happen, and happen, and happen.

Then the human swarm will blanket our solar system,

Building, exploiting and populating orbiting rocks all over.

(*grinning in amazement*)

Amazing to contemplate what will be up ahead...

Could Galileo or Newton conceptualize the

colossal mess they helped engender?

I bet not, although given their intellect, perhaps so.

Meantime, stay tuned to the small hardy bands working

to make the future a reality, however it ultimately turns out.

https://www.nasa.gov/ames/ocs/2014-summer-series/harold-white

https://100yss.org/mission/purpose

Supernaturale, or to Them from Us

 MUFON and the US navy are watching you,

you rascally space beings flitting yourselves

across our innocent skies with impudence.

How dare you, with ghostly forms,

teleport yourselves in and out of

our awareness, teasing consciousness.

Move objects with your forces,

scare poor inferiors into submission.

Why do you need this isolated rock?

We are just scraping sustenance and

sexing ourselves into senselessness;

Why torture us with your rays?

Around these galactic parts, we

are the ones in charge, in case you

haven’t become aware of our junk.

To react takes us at least days,

while you flutter in and out of

our corporeal matter in microseconds.

Your essence is dark and quick,

fearing nothing, assimilating everything;

Did we ever stand a chance?

Just remember in your conquers,

the delicate tendrils you absorb

and delight in become a part of you now.

Yes – you are now us as we are you,

there is no escape from total unity.

Thank you for handing us that one victory.

Tempered Wanderlust

Moving to new places might be fun,

But there is always work to be done.

Money does not fall from the sky,

Nor grow on trees, nor in the grass lie.

So one best have some income lined up,

a job or career to prime the money pump.

Just moving on a whim can be disastrous,

you can end up starving, and even homeless.

Life’s lessons are dished out in dollops

of heaping helpings of harsh wallops.

Either one dies or recovers and keeps on,

last lesson burned in a wiser mind strong.

As a single person ages and learns,

once hasty moves slow, he takes longer turns.

Past lessons inform, past mistakes burn,

Want to move again? One had better earn…

And earn and earn a lot of spending cash,

Then one can avoid the homeless hash.

On days off enjoy the many fine sights,

Avoiding any dreary severe poverty plights.

(with posthumous apologies to Ogden Nash)

Need to work together to mitigate disasters

It has been easy to feel antagonism and fury at the opposing political party. “They just don’t seem to grasp true logic, they are always focused on their own petty wants, they seem determined to take our nation down the tubes.” This description could fit either political party, from the point of view of the other one. Democrats vs Republicans. Sure, the smaller parties have an opinion on things, and may see themselves as the only real alternative. Not too different from many religions, but that is another debate.

My worry is that the USA is faced with many problems. Chief among them seems to be the constant natural disasters we have been enduring. Many hurricanes and tornadoes have damaged large swaths of the country. Fires and floods have ravaged other parts. Many regions have gone from fall fires to winter snowstorms, to spring floods and mudslides. What else is going to happen? Earthquakes have been rumbling around too, making themselves felt. These disasters individually are destructive enough to empty out towns, destroying housing and casting whole populations adrift. (Worse than any bombing short of a nuclear warhead.) It is as if mother nature herself has declared war on us all.

Simple yelling and finger-pointing is not enough. We need to work together on these problems, and reach solutions, or at least agreement on courses of action. Like it or not, we are all stuck in the same ‘sandbox’ and when an outside agency is threatening us, we must unite. But no, instead the parties are sniping at each other, and sabotaging each others efforts at solutions. Ultimately the actions of these political organizations could end up threatening the well-being of us all.

We have river levies that need to be repaired ASAP, before more flooding comes. We have towns and cities languishing months or years after a disaster, still awaiting some kind of federal help. We have a need to more funding for rapid response help for disaster victims. The way things are going, the entire USA is becoming one colossal disaster victim. Things are looking dire. Every week there are more severe weather disasters occurring. Political infighting will not help us combat these problems. Only co-operating and co-ordination can help us face these disasters.

Vote for who you want, but tell them they need to stop listening to our enemies, and start working together with other Americans to help save our tattered nation.

Thanks for reading.

Spy vs Spy - in and out

One country thinks they have the perfect spy,

reaching the highest centers of power.

The other country thinks they are playing

said first country for fools –

giving them some fodder,

leading them on,

then ultimately fooling them.

How much money is spent in these games?

One misleading another,

spying on their own fools errands.

Analyzing every message,

studying misinformation for clues.

What a strange art,

takes people to strange places.

Makes them do bizarre things

all in the name of God and Country…

“We got the best of them!”

“No, we got the best of them!”

And in the end, everyone dies off,

and no one knows who actually succeeded.

And it really doesn’t matter, anyway.

But it sure makes for a juicy TV special.

Electromechanical Empires rose and fell

Card-punching equipment thrived,

humans interfaced with electromechanical

devices highly efficient.

Discrete digital codes hammered out

industrial efficiency recorded data in volumes.

Numerical superiority of our machines

increased steadily.

Ever-greater storage volumes ensured

vastly increased sales dollars.

Busy people crowded around massive mainframes.

Busy bankers funded the efforts.

Economic activity swirled, coalesced, surged and crested.

IBM Data Processing Systems were at the center of it all.

(Not to discount the products of the other six companies…)

Advertising artwork created new Digital Overlords,

worshiped by blue-robed acolytes,

feeding the majestic beast it’s requirements

in punch-cards, magnetic platters and reels.

Every so often typing in a humble request:

“Please start this next job,

and if you please, give us a report.”

Most of the time, our lord 370 would

grant us compliance. Sometimes we

would be required to pay further obeisance,

a-bending our knees and a-breaking our routines.

Programmer priests were called in, to

prod the great one to move data mountains

once again, and keep society on track.

And the whole electro-metallic mighty-framed show careened on.

Then one day someone came up with the personal computer,

someone else invented the first smartphone,

and the once-mighty mainframe god was, in turn,

brought to its knees!

See how godlike you are now,

you obsolete bucket of antique scrap.

No more worship for you,

just the melting pot,

where you’ll be turned into tiny parts,

and play a new part in showing the latest

Instagram and Snapchat postings,

making a 21^st century teenager rich and famous.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Spring again Spring again

The heaps and mounds of snow are gone,

first green shoots of Spring have arrived.

Weather see-saws between cold, rain and sun,

the wind broadcasts the news:  nature thrives.

Motorbikes and quads replace snowmobiles,

snowplows have mostly retired or removed blades.

Streets and sidewalks clear, potholes slowly getting filled.

This one delivered more blows than most winters gave.

Now the weatherperson apologizes for temps in the 40s;

Would have given anything for that two months ago;

April showers are here, some floods persist too.

Hope of brilliant May colors quickens the pulse.

Brutal chill gives way to stifling summer heat,

With a lull here and there, a brief respite of perfection.

Which is better, Spring or Fall? Mind changes with the years.

Want to know how it is outdoors? Go out, and make your own determination.

Iowa is a state of weather connoisseurs – never disappointed in the rate of change!

Best place ever for wind-hungry turbines. Keep on spinning.

Come on and Spring already

Spring will soon show its bright new coat.

Just one more whiff of cold, perhaps to say

“This is what you are leaving behind, now

get ready for the colors and scents ahead.”

And the woods are littered with past years’ adventures.

Natural symmetry a kind of art

The symmetry of nature is a kind of Art.

It can be found in the ordinary,

all around us,

indoors or outdoors.

A winding stream thawed,
courses through remaining
patches of snow and ice;

tree branch collections,

birds perching above,

graffiti on a bike trail sign.

Fun to see what is out there

on a Saturday afternoon;

because there is time,

and just because...

Have a good day.

something else instead

Market crash,

restroom dash,

political clash,

workplace hash

All kind of things going on.

Big CEOs in and out of legal trouble,

Political scandals multiply like potholes.

More good people succumb to cancer,

more great actors disappear from the stage.

Someday the sun will shine again,

someday the temps will be above freezing.

Someday this winter of hatefulness will end,

only hope that I'm still around when it does.

The circus keeps whirling,

lights keep scintillating,

noise and mud and crowds unceasing.

The Human race keeps mutating

into something else instead.

Upon a Night

When I was 16 or so, I would lay on my bed at night,

turn out the lights, and watch colorful patterns emerge.

Happy forms would prance and dance, promising

partying, dizzying sex, and enjoyment of all life in general.

Nowadays, in the dark, as I lie and wait for sleep,

other forms emerge and flow across my inner screen.

Misshapen, ugly, brown mottled colors, demonic intents...

They enlarge, blow up, swallow me and I feel them full-on.

They turn into regrets, disappointments, failures unresolved,

Missed chances, wrong things said, judgment errors aplenty.

Why oh why didn't I do this, say that, try the other instead?

I have to let loose a gutteral growl before rising to get a sip

of tap water and slosh it around in my dry, discouraged mouth.

I lay back down, and my cat jumps up on the comforter,

lends her own comforting purr of reassurance.

“Tomorrow is another day. If I awaken I will get another chance...”

The shapes recede, their sting neutralized by the wonderful purrs.

I drift off into contented sleep. Only to awaken a couple hours later,

and repeat the whole process all over again.

The noisy alarm derails my mental maelstrom for good,

or at least for 24 hours.

Time to get up and face the world again.

Oh wow.

Cat-tastic Energy

On a normal day she sleeps all the time,

curled up in my favorite chair,

or on the bed when I need to make it,

or on the floor when I'm trying to get going.

Anywhere that is in the way, she dozes.

Not this day, when I need to concentrate,

need to get things done.

Callie is an archetype of primordial energy.

Zipping around, caterwauling, leaping onto things,

a preemptive dash under my feet for good measure.

Her message is clear:

Anything you do,

I will undo,

or do the opposite.

Once in a while,

when I plop down and sit,

she leaps onto my lap,

looks up at me and purrs.

“But I still love you, dad.”

My unhappiness melts away,

I pet and ruffle her fur,

tickle her belly and play.

We bond in our usual way.

Then she tries to nap on my lap,

right about the time I want to get up.

There goes that timing issue again!

It just never seems to end.

Who, Me?

repurposing to backwardness

There seems to be a trend in industry and even aerospace of re-using proven technologies and methods.  Let's cut back a bit, save some money.  Let's re-use this for that, save some money.   Anything to do more with less.  The problem with this philosophy is it only goes so far.  Just look at Flint, Michigan.   They have been cut and re-purposed and downsized right out of the 20th century, back to near medieval living conditions. 
     Meanwhile, some of the Asian economies are building new stuff.  Innovating wholesale.  So much so that they build all of the flat-panel technology we enjoy.  The US almost lost our entire automotive industry after the meltdown of 2009, only kept it because the government had to step in.  Sometimes the mad rush to penny-pinch our way to a profitable quarter can really cut our throats.  There has to be some NEW developments.  NEW research.  NEW product attempts.  And not all will succeed.  But we really should try to do something novel once in a while.  The occasional technological  "home run" (like the smartphone) may just pull us out of the morass of left-behind second-rater civilizations.
      Company after company will buy someone else out, borrow a lot of money to do it, lay off thousands to fund it, and end up sinking down anyway.  But not before the Management has fled with their golden settlements.   Rust-belt disintegrated America - brought to you by your fine management team.  Give them a round of applause.

stop spinning

We got eight more inches of snow today,

mother nature really sticking it to us,

totally pissed at our constant misdeeds.

Trashing the oceans and fouling the air,

who are we to destroy the one green world

that birthed us, as if we could really go

live on some irradiated desert world.

Yeah right, maybe a few could live underground,

requiring the efforts of the rest of planet Earth

just to keep us alive and fed. Ain't gonna happen!

We have to take care of this planet, this world,

this home, this crib.

But being humans, we won't.

Such heavy worries crease my brow,

when I really just need to pay my bills and

keep going, step by step, day by day,

one day closer to the grave each day.

It's all anyone can really do.

(although it would really be nice to end the

life of some other obnoxious human that

purposely keeps trying to upset me.)

Nothing to say,

just got to get through this day.

And this one,

and this one,

and this one too.

Time spins me through,

and my head spins too,

permanent spin cycle.

How to put a good spin on that.

Hey,

there are two of you.

Treasure from above

     So I'm watching this new show on Netflix, on space memorabilia dealers. And my jaw hits the floor. Not once, but repeatedly. You have presumably rational human beings, offering tens of thousands of dollars for things like leather booties and tethers. The tether flew in space; the booties did not. Ridiculous prices offered for things like signed photographs, and spaceflight hardware. Thrusters, a side plate from an exploded delta II rocket (thousands offered), etc.

     Granted, some key piece of hardware that flew to the Moon and back on an Apollo flight would have a significant historical interest and pedigree. A Hasslblad camera from the CM maybe, or a suit helmet that had been on the Moon. But these dealers waxed enthusiastic over the smallest thing. A pen used on a flight brought (I believe) three thousand. A plain old ink pen, albeit with some velcro still attached from when it flew into space. The Cosmonaut suit that had been on MIR was kind of eye-catching, I must admit.

     So search your attic, and keep an eye peeled at flea markets. That old piece of space junk may just make your next five mortgage payments! I know I'm keeping my eyes peeled. Antiques? Who cares. No one seems to want them anymore. But online gaming awards and tokens? Space memorabilia? Now we are talking real money. Vegas jackpots. Happy hunting.