loops and arcs

 

To be young and anticipate all of the future delights.

Times ahead with some intimate other,

cuddling, kissing and realizing intense feelings.

The unknown powerfully beckons!

Even after the physical is finished, that ache in your

gut stays on, and you moon away, in love with love.

To be in the moment,

making love or simply kissing;

everything else is shut out,

time slows and you are happy to exist right now.

To be older, and lose the anticipations,

no more sense of wonder or hope.

You’ve done it all, experienced love and loss,

rebound and more love and more loss.

Various intimate scenarios have unfolded,

and expended themselves with high intensity;

fiery suns erupted inside you, then faded away.

The older body will not function as well,

and if sexual pleasure happens at all, it is shorter, more furtive.

Wonder and delight is left to swim in the sea of memory.

(No longer desired, one can sit back and watch other scenes play out.)

The dramas of life can unfold on TV or in others,

and one can relax, and rediscover the simple things.

Thanks given for each day one can stay healthy and mobile,

and maybe go see some sights.

The sweeping arc just repeats with each human lifetime.

I’m just glad that we were able to enjoy ours to the fullest.

Weather

 

How do they do it?

Out in the frigid air,

working, or playing football,

bare arms exposed to snow and zero temps.

I shiver indoors, wearing layers.

The heat is working, but turned down.

Every time the furnace comes on I give thanks.

C’mon, everything, keep on working,

at least until it warms up some!

Elsewhere, wildfires still burn,

political vitriol fanning different flames.

The world still smolders with embers of anger;

Some outbreaks of peace give occasional hope.

Maybe somehow a huge wave of peace can blanket

the earth, just like this cursed polar vortex.

The former will be a true blanket of warmth.

Not holding my breath here, just staying warm,

hoping that the mechanicals don’t fail.

Time will tell how “Cold” or “Hot” this year will get,

politically or environmentally.

Happy Inauguration Day.

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.

God in our Machines

 

So I was reading this novel about the near future, where an FBI agent and her humanoid robot go through a basic training course, including rope climbing, obstacle climbing and so forth. The android could respond rapidly to everything the human trainer said. And as ‘it’ stood and surveyed the course, it was running thousands of completions of said course through it’s processors, determining every precise step and movement it would take to complete the course in record time. Which, of course, it did.

It occurred to me that all of human records, knowledge, experiences are being poured wholesale into massive databases, which are in turn accessed by more powerful algorithms every day. We are handing off the sum total of our knowledge to machines, so they can do things better, faster, more efficiently. This has been talked about a lot already, and the need for some built-in controls is well known. But when I see a scenario laid out like the one I read, it takes my breath away. This is really happening, and going to happen more and more. In many ways there will be more convenience. But there will also be more and more knowledge jobs lost, up to the level of doctors and attorneys. At some point we may well need a national Basic Income payment so people can survive the coming unemployment waves, as our economy adjusts. There will be some new specialized jobs, no doubt, but a lot of dislocation too.

Right now, there is so much data being shoveled at us through our phones, our computers, our TV sets, etc. No to mention all the various household devices attached in some way to the Internet. I feel like I’m drowning in data right now – so of course welcome the help of ‘digital assistants’ - but that is in essence more data to keep track of. Wonder when we’ll reach a point where humans lose all control over the whole massive data structure.

We’ll have to be brave and resilient in this “brave new world” that is coming, coming up on us so fast. Good luck. Deus ex machina indeed.

Two Entered the Ring

 

One old grizzled fighter came on strong,

unleashing flurries of punches, landing some.

The younger, fresher one seemed to be biding his time…

The first two rounds went to the seasoned champion.

In the third round, things began to change.

The young man let loose with his wicked jab,

and began to do damage around an older head…

The champion ducked and weaved and dodged,

mostly effective but not every time – and got hit.

He took it like the champ he was, and persevered.

Dodging and weaving, he fired back some punches.

Got warned by the referee – they both did.

But after the fourth round, things looked bleak.

By the fifth and sixth rounds, the challenger was

scoring hits at three times the rate of the champ.

It became inevitable – and a game of survival.

The old champ stayed on his feet by will alone.

In the last two rounds, the old warrior launched

some desperate flurries, even landing a few.

The young strong bull answered back with plenty!

When it finally came to the end, it was with grace.

You saw the young challenger, now the champ,

behaving with an uncanny class, ceasing seconds early,

giving the old warhorse a bow of respect before the bell.

No bloody knockouts here – this was a sporting ballet.

No thrilla in Manila,

no slash-and-burn,

no ear-biting rages,

no TKO in the first round.

This was a contest of gentlemen,

settled like gentlemen.

Doubt there will be another match like this one.

Congrats, Jake Paul.

Well fought, Mike Tyson.

Don’t spend it all in one place (both of you). ;-)

Technology Relativity

 

Once we could be content with cable TV,

passive amusements fed to us repeatedly.

Only interaction was the channel changer,

it was OK to be sleepy dumb consumers.

Then that Internet age came up fast,

we all had to learn new keyboard tasks.

To think and interact and read many screens;

the old world of paper data receding at last.

Forget going out somewhere to fetch a book,

logging into the right website is all it took

to make our world smarter and better and brighter,

colorful images and columns and charts

accessed rapidly to make us all smarter.

Alas! Many smaller companies became providers,

some unreliable and spotty with coverages.

The more addicted we became to the ‘Net,

the quicker we could find ourselves disconnected!

Now we are all hopelessly hooked,

forty years of force-feeding is all it took.

Without a Net connection one is hopelessly lost,

an EM-saturated world permanently tempest-tossed!

(No AI was used in the writing of this poem.)

Doorways

 

Moving through the hallways of life

one keeps encountering doorways.

Entrances and exits to other realities,

or at least other paradigms in sight.

Life changes and aging bring new

encounters with throughways to novel worldviews.

Leaving the area called “career” and entering

that large unknown void called “retirement.”

Leaving one relationship for another,

hopping between rooms called ‘friends.’

Nice to know one can step back into most

other rooms and reconnect with dear ones.

On a larger scale, regions or countries

can leave a familiar hallway by electing

some new person to a leadership position.

Exiting the familiar, we all step into a void,

hoping not to fall off a cliff into new squalor.

With climate change, our entire Earth transits

a new doorway into climactic upheavals unknown…

Yet in the distant past the Earth was covered by ice.

Perhaps we will know the future by looking back.

Doorways and entrances to new unknown realities

cause one to wince as we take the jump.

Frightening future, here we come!

Last Hurrahs

 

Back in the 1960’s we were all lined up.

Long winding groups of kids waiting for our

mass shots, or exams, or even the cafeteria.

Positioned here and there for various

reasons I can’t even remember why;

Fire drills and fallout shelters and fear.

Now we sit at the opposite end of things.

Lined up in nursing homes,

at doctor’s offices or urgent care clinics,

or massing along pedestrian trails...

Daytime scenes populated with elderly dross,

All us Baby Boomers that have lost our gloss.

Succeeding generations have long since taken over

the running of society, while we Boomers sit and watch,

complain and grumble, or cheer and hurrah sometimes.

It has been a long, strange trip, and only some

of us made it to this other end. To us I say,

three cheers! And let us crack open one more

bottle of 60’s joy and color and good vibrations...

For old time’s sake!

How to Keep US on Top

To maintain a preeminent space program, the USA can focus on several key areas:

1. Investment in Research and Development: Increasing funding for NASA and other space-related agencies to foster innovation in technology, propulsion systems, and materials science.

2. Public-Private Partnerships: Encouraging collaboration with private companies to leverage their expertise and drive down costs. Initiatives like the Commercial Crew Program have shown success in this area.

3. International Collaboration: Building partnerships with other countries for joint missions, shared technology, and resource pooling can enhance capabilities and strengthen global ties.

4. STEM Education and Workforce Development: Promoting education in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics to ensure a skilled workforce. This can include scholarships, internships, and outreach programs.

5. Sustained Long-Term Goals: Establishing clear, ambitious goals such as returning to the Moon, manned Mars missions, and deep space exploration to inspire investment and public interest.

6. Public Engagement and Support: Increasing outreach efforts to educate the public on the benefits of space exploration, which can drive support for funding and initiatives.

7. Regulatory Framework: Streamlining regulations to facilitate space exploration while ensuring safety and sustainability.

8. Technology Transfer: Encouraging the application of space technology advancements to other sectors to demonstrate the broader benefits of space investment.

By focusing on these areas, the USA can not only maintain but enhance its leadership in space technology and advancement.

(Just ask an AI how to do it)

The Long Season

 

The trees are weeping down leaves,

sagging and seeping sorrowful greens.

Barren hard ground to feet is unyielding,

wispy grasses to color are clinging.

Overseas the bodies are piling up,

more countries getting drawn into

a never ending conflict of egos and steel.

Lip service to treaties, immune to entreaty.

Here at home, a bifurcated population

rages against itself, house divided hard.

As the election nears, political tactics smear;

Hatreds flare and many are scared.

How much riotous bloodshed will occur

if or when a sore loser emerges?

One can only wait and see – indoors,

entrances locked and phone at the ready.

It remains a tossup if we can get a self-sustaining colony

built on some other world, before we destroy our own!

E Pluribus Unum

 (many thanks to Chat GPT for this gem)

Out of Many, One

In a small town, the annual Harvest Festival buzzed with anticipation. This year, a group of fervent Christian nationalists had commandeered the event, draping the town square in flags and fervent speeches. Their leader, a charismatic preacher named Ezekiel, proclaimed a divine mandate to reclaim the country for their vision of faith.

But amid the celebrations, a quiet resistance simmered. Mara, a local librarian, felt the weight of the community's diversity slipping away. She gathered a group of neighbors—Muslims, Jews, atheists, and progressive Christians—over cups of tea and whispered plans.

On the day of the festival, as Ezekiel took the stage, Mara and her friends set up their own booth, adorned with vibrant banners reading "Unity in Diversity" and "Love is Greater Than Fear." They handed out pamphlets that told stories of their shared humanity, weaving in tales of their cultures and beliefs.

At first, Ezekiel's followers scoffed, but as the day wore on, curious townsfolk began to gather around Mara’s booth. She spoke passionately about the strength found in differences, her voice rising above the raucous chants. The crowd, once loyal to Ezekiel's exclusionary vision, began to waver, drawn in by the warmth of shared stories and laughter.

As the sun dipped low, casting a golden hue over the festival, Mara led the crowd in a simple act—a moment of silence for every person who had felt marginalized. One by one, hands clasped together across differences, creating a human chain that glowed with hope.

Ezekiel, watching from the stage, felt the tide turning. His voice faltered as he saw faces—once eager to follow him—now shining with newfound understanding. The chants quieted, and for the first time, he saw a community stitched together by love rather than fear.

That night, as the stars flickered above, the festival ended not in division, but in a resounding affirmation of togetherness. The seeds of unity had taken root, and in their fertile soil, the specter of Christian nationalism began to wither, outshone by the light of compassion.

E Pluribus Unum - Out of Many, One - the United States of America

Reversal of Linguistic Fortunes

 

In whispers spun from tongues diverse,
Where letters dance in clever verse,
A mirror’s game, a playful twist,
Languages spin, and none are missed.

In English, “stressed” flips to “desserts,”
A sweet escape from heavy hurts.
In Spanish, “sal” becomes “las,”
A sprinkle of salt, a change in class.

French offers “rester” turned to “reset,”
A pause in time, a chance to forget.
In German, “leber” reflects as “rebel,”
A liver’s tale, a revolution’s revel.

Across the globe, in every land,
Words reverse with a sleight of hand.
Italian “ano” to “ona” plays,
A cycle of life in playful ways.

So here we weave a tapestry bright,
Where languages shift in day and night.
In each reversal, a story told,
Of cultures and connections new or old.

Walking Along the Trail

 

Yellowed cottonwood leaves crunch underfoot,

a mild breeze cools off the path ahead...

Squirrels dart across, stop, look, then rush off,

rustling underbrush reveals their secret routes.

I can hear some in the trees making various sounds,

munching or scolding or muttering something.

They are in full-on preparation for winter.

Birds begin to flock, squawk and squabble.

They, too, are getting ready for coming changes.

The scene is peaceful and pleasing,

the best time of year around here,

not at all like down south – facing down

yet another giant hurricane of storms.

My sympathies go to them down there.

But I still want to enjoy this fall beauty here in Iowa.

Because our turn for some nasty weather is coming.

Not if, but when – and how severe we get it. Like

bills, always in the mail headed our way, sooner

or later – and we always hope for the latter.

For now we can enjoy it here, but also prepare for

what surely must come ahead one of these days.

Damn weather!

Victorian versus modern sensibility

 

All of these do-it-yourself stores

offering things like self-service saws.

Reminds one of the Victorian era,

with up to their moment modernity,

stressing individual self-sufficiency.

The British gentleman was expected to dress

fashionably from head to toe, shining,

Yet also to be able to rise to any occasion.

Whether fighting off brigands with cane or pistol,

repairing some coach or other modern conveyance...

A man for all seasons, tough for any reason.

Also living in an era without antibiotics or

adequate food safety, and occupational dangers.

You had to be everything at all times for all occasions.

Even if you only lived to a ripe old age of 45.

Think of Rudyard Kipling’s “IF” poem,

applied to males across the British Empire.

So glad we evolved into a more nuanced world,

one that gives individuals room to be themselves.

We are flawed humans, not supernatural beings.

Some self-improvement can be great, but it is also

good for technology-swamped minds to relax.