years squandered in digital delight

 

Society seems to demand so much,

buy this, buy that, look over here and there,

click on this, download that, buy a years subscription.

BOGO, two-for-one, did you know we also carry XYZ?

The years keep rolling by,

energy reserves called upon dwindle

even as the medicine cabinet burgeons

with more and more little helpers to

push this aging carcass through another day.

Screens demanding time, attention, money

seem to proliferate like dandelions.

Did I really want all of this, ask for it?

Yes, unfortunately I did. I said

give me sharp graphics, fast downloads,

access to a world of media fun and stimulation.

I wanted everything too, right now, fast,

the world at my fingertips.

Well, here it is, but it is not free.

Price paid in ever-slimmer time slices doled out,

even as I grip my real and virtual wallets tighter.

Not sure which is more aggravating, the loss of

scarce money or scarcer time...

What is the best way to spend our remaining miliseconds?

Tracking countless posts, screens, digital jolts and tricks?

Or gazing at real, static objects like a flower,

a river scene, mountain landscape or our navels?

We did it to ourselves -

I did it to myself.

Sorry, self.

“Get over it.”

There are still hundreds of posts to read,

millions of milliseconds to spend before I sleep,

millions of milliseconds to waste before I try to sleep.

Hard to Believe

 

When looking out the kitchen window,

seeing the lushness of spring growth,

grasses and lilies reaching for the sky.

Was this really all covered with snow?

Just a short time ago,

I waded in snow two feet deep to snap photos

of the patio table and chairs buried in powder.

After one of the big blizzards, around February.

The world was black and white, with blue sky,

frozen in place, ‘will this ever change?’

Of course it does, every year, miracles happen.

Temperatures rise, snow melts off, brown

grown turns green and lush, spattered with colors

of dandelion, ground ivy, violets and lilies.

I know the lushness is also temporary,

so I resolve to get out and enjoy it some,

despite a summer cold, and pressing chores.

The human will makes all the difference,

in this always changing world.

Events never stop to give us a rest,

but always move, move, speed along

to the next season or crisis or election.

Meanwhile, time to stop and smell the blossoms,

before they fade into fall once again.

hmm

Pattern Births

 

What if our cogitations obeyed natural machinations,

our musings and meditations marched to hidden patterns,

secluded, yet in plain sight for all live creatures to see:

To view and absorb, evolve up into and subsume,

swallow up those natural inclinations of elementals

to follow certain paths.

Spirals and whirlpools could be emulated,

tree branches and branching pathways

subtly imitated by flashing neurons in us.

Natural symmmetrical shapes and images

as evolved as a part of our random

thinking patterns.

Perhaps a creative genius just knows how to

shift and attach,

detatch and rearrange,

resize and re-view those

natural whorls and branches and streamlets

of ideas and impressions into something new.

Nature teaches us so much, it

seems like she has always “been there before.”

We are simply a high expression of evolved nature,

so it makes sense that we carry all of her patterns.

Someday maybe someone will write an

enormous algorithm,

one that expresses these foundational shapes,

then shifts them around,

up and down,

inside and out,

attach and detatch;

then express the results as

thought,

ideas,

speech,

or even actions

on a screen, through a speaker,

expressed in motions or actions.

You just never know.

Human Interchange Collections

 

So many I have had over the years,

collecting relationships like seashells.

Some shine with the luster of newness,

while others have a dull patina of age.

Some are treasured jewels to be hoarded,

others just experienced for a bit, then tossed out,

back on the beach, littered with castoffs.

But human beings are not seashells,

nor coins or marbles or figurines to collect.

No, each one is a uniquely complex creation,

a vast matrix of interconnnections and emotions.

One must be careful when dealing with other humans!

Those people that weave in and out of one’s existence

are to be valued, each for their contribution to

that whole human experience comprising a lifetime.

Like a big collection of multicolored yarns, each with

a different length, indicating the time they have been

inter-twined with my life, my yarn.

Each one is a different relationship –

Why should anyone have two of any item in their collection?

Better to have one of each, all unique, all special, all priceless.

One gift of older age is the chance to look back and savor the

yarn, the threads of different personalities wrapping themselves

around one’s own consciousness and memories.

And be thankful for each and every one.

Mother Nature's Banquet for the Senses

 

What heavily-laden table can compare

to Spring’s blossom-loaded feast?

A barren table describes the muddy fields

all around us here in the Midwest in early April.

All the brown and black branches, whitish snow,

patches of grim earth poking through on nature’s recon

seem to be with us for all time, or a very long time indeed.

Then something happens to the weather.

Brighter sun, longer days, balmy weather, gentle rains.

That awful black-brownness spotted with white transforms.

Suddenly a sea of green pokes up, sprouts and jumps and leaps.

Carpets of red and yellow appear, accompanied by birdsong.

An explosion of joy ripples through the countryside and landscape.

By early May we wonder what we did to deserve such beauty,

the colors, the fragrances, the sumptuousness of this king of feasts.

No human banquet could hope to compare to this blitz of the senses.

So we tell ourselves after four months of weather hell, we deserve it.

And we certainly do.

Happy springtime everyone – enjoy the banquet,

before some crushing summer heat spoils the party.

Back Attack

 

Amost like a steel cage slamming down around you,

your activities suddenly restricted to

hobbling around,

bent half over,

a hand holding the back.

How could this happen?

You are not that old!

Then again, over six decades…

It is kind of a long time.

Just one activity,

followed by one restless sleep,

and days, weeks of pain followed.

Something pulled,

something slipped out,

mis-aligned or twisted about.

You stretch this way or that,

up or down,

left or right,

back and forth.

Mild relief for a time,

then the stabbing pain comes back.

What awful thing did you do to deserve this?

Where is a damned exo-skeleton when you need one?

So now those bright activity plans dim,

and the compensation strategies blossom;

So we hobble on into an uncertain future.

Thank goodness for cheap Ibuprofen.

Not for the faint of heart

 

Inside burns desire, still white-hot;

Schemes and plans sifted, some laid in;

Time to move that body out where a lot

of playmates circulate, and taste some sin.

But the physical frame that encloses

this hungry, constantly-seeking mind

will throw one surprises at it discloses

New injury and pain from deep inside.

Those lofty dreams of sexual conquests

need to be temporarily stowed away;

Simpler physical needs and requests

must be tended, no doctor visit delayed.

Youthful licentious desires can still soar,

yet remain a fantasy on old age’s shore.

Sure hope not.

On Mars

 You can probably hear faint moaning winds,

red sand whistling in whirlpools over ancient rocks;

That is if any sound carries in the thin atmosphere at all.

Here and there, scattered among valleys of rubble,

one san see the odd landing platform or silent rover.

Over there in the distance, a couple larger rovers still

operate, probe, snap photos, measure compositions.

Today a new presence was felt on this tired old world.

A small helicopter spun up blades and lifted off the surface,

hovered and turned, then landed again.  More photos.

A video in full color was taken by the parent rover.

Another American first on Mars.  Can people

be that far behind in arriving?

Another couple decades at most, and human boots

will make imprints on the Martian regolith.

A couple years after that, I'm guessing,

the first shots will ring out.  Mass shootings,

so common here, will probably follow the

violence-addicted peoples that settle There.

I would hope not, but common experience here

on Earth tells me otherwise.  

First, boots and simple habitats,

then larger underground colonies,

compete with lockers of Kevlar vests,

so the colonists can be protected from

each other - just like back home.

Stay safe out there, everyone, if you can.

One Second

 

So fast, fleeting, ephemeral,

just a wisp, here and gone;

an eyeblink can last longer.

A life can disappear.

So many people drive and glance at their phones,

enough that a significant proportion cause accidents.

You can tell who they are -

the cars that swerve, scrape a curb,

cross the centerline, weave in and out...

You think, ‘What kind of idiot is that?’

‘Are they drunk? Stoned? Having a heart attack?

Having a baby? What?’

When the inevitable happens,

the weeping and sorrow begin.

And it could all have been avoided.

Just put down that phone!

Really – it can wait!

A whole life history saved,

not snuffed out in some stupid tragedy,

one that could have been avoided if

you could look at the road for just

one more second.

Set it down,

turn it off,

save a life,

do not scoff,

it can wait,

set it down, or

turn the damn thing off.

Red dusty greenfields, ready for development

 

Sojurner,

Spirit and Opportunity,

Curiosity,

and now, Perseverance.

The fourth human visitor from Earth,

robotic emissary,

ambassador of human inquisitiveness.

Scientific probe scouts,

surveys future housing developments?

Exploration or exploitation?

It will be up to us to decide which.

Nine billion souls burgeoning on a tired oasis,

many yearn to go out and find new spots,

stake new territories to transform, use up, despoil?

A mad rush to expand tends to ignore any limitations,

reproductive controls or environmental restraints.

It will be a struggle between moral and ethical determinations,

and sheer human need and greed and expansionism.

Just as difficult to decide who will go where,

as it will be to be for us to to survive there.

Just as in the Old Western United States,

the initial explorers will paint wondrous

landscapes onto the human imagination.

The followers will do the dirty work,

and in the end humanity will cover it all.

Journey on, mighty robotic rovers;

and enjoy the privacy over there on Mars.

It certainly will not last long!

Corpus Complaints

 

 One sets out on tasks and chores for the day,

to get work done, to resume fun without delay.

Pull on the sneakers before heading outside,

the bunion shoots a pain, but I take it in stride.

I reach for a beverage to put in a cooler,

that right shoulder tells me “move a bit smoother.”

Then I stoop to pick up a dropped beard comb,

the back shouts out enough pain to keep me home!

This body has it’s own unique language,

aches, twinges and pains in a big montage.

A conversation I do not need when trying

to get things done, work or fun, truth or lyin’.

But at times when I see a cute stranger I like,

the aches and pains fade away real nice.

Different sensations and twinges take the fore,

as my eyes drink in beauty, and the mind wants more...

Thank goodness some pleasure pathways still work,

yank my attention off bodily convulsions and jerks

What a dismal existence it would be, indeed,

if there was nothing to sense but pains ugly screed.

Am grateful anew for those pleasurable sensations,

hopes even get raised for potential carnal relations.

Forget about own miseries and focus on good company,

Fellow human beings to ease one away from the misery.

Those knees may keep yelling about the changing weather,

but my heart soars upwards, casts off pains persistent tether.

Happy Poetry Month Everyone!

Thanks for Your Time

 

You could have been making out,

making love, scoring the big one.

You could have gotten some cleaning done,

or gone to the grocery store to stock up,

you could have called your mom,

your dad, your aunt or uncle.

You could have read up on Coronavirus,

gone to the Web MD’s and educated yourself.

You could have just sat and read a book,

your favorite sci-fi, mystery, or romance novel…

You could have browsed Facebook, Twitter,

even checked out some new jobs on LinkedIn.

You could have polished up your resume,

made phone calls, located contacts…

You could have done so many things,

but instead here you are, reading these lines.

A big waste of your time?

A colossal blunder of time management?

Perhaps not.

Because I’m here to tell you you are special,

you are a unique human being,

with cognitive powers above all others in the animal kingdom.

You have many innate abilities,

unique, special qualities to

touch other people’s lives.

Who knows, you may have said just the right word,

made just the right gesture,

performed just the right act,

to set in motion a chain of events that led

humanity to achieve greater heights than would have

been possible without your one act,

your link in the chain of humanity that elevated us all.

And if you did not know that,

or perhaps forgot,

then today you got reminded of just how

wonderful, special, and unique you are.

With that “heads-up” then just maybe,

reading this was not such a waste of time after all.

Thanks for reading it in any case,

and warmest regards to you, fellow human!

Unleashing the Tech Tornado

 

Can words even describe the awesomeness of

figuring out a relatively new technology,

and taming it for one’s own personal pleasure?

Time was, when you bought a cassette playing boombox,

two speakers and one or two cassette players,

you were really living it up.

Those decades are long past.

Now for a relatively small sum,

you can get a player for your CD’s

and MP3s and internet streaming too.

Just pair it via Bluetooth with a smartphone,

and presto, you have virtually unlimited music.

Not eight or twelve or sixteen tracks,

not even a few gigabytes of MP3s,

No-sir-ree.

Now you have massive amounts,

any kind of musical genre you want.

Just have to hunt it down online,

and link it up with your device.

You see, nowadays we have to think,

interact with our devices,

know what we are doing more than

jamming in a cassette or CD.

We have to work, but are rewarded commensurately…

How do stoned teenagers even manage nowadays???

Sure feels good to pair a phone with a boombox,

when you have never done such a thing before!

Time to go to bed, and dream about 1’s and 0’s

turning into fabulous Bitcoin wealth.

Anything is possible, after all.

Happy computing everyone.

Totalitarianism lost

      All of this voter restriction taking place is just wrong.  Limiting the times people can vote, making it harder and harder for the poor, disabled, disadvantaged to vote is the antithesis of democracy.    If we look back to the countries that existed before WW II, and how they embraced authoritarianism, it is enlightening.  dictators in Germany and Italy, and Japan, all assasinated opponents, lied to their populations about how they lacked resources and living spaces, and took away democratic rights of assembly and free speech.  They burned books, and attacked marginalized groups.   Then they unleashed a war that was hell on earth, a war that killed millions upon millions of innocent people.   But in the end, the forces of democracy prevailed, and won the war.  Oh, and all of those authoritarian politicians?  Teh ones that took over by lies, deceits, and the taking away of liberty and democracy?  They all ended up dead or imprisoned, or hanged.  

     Totalitarianism, authoritarianism, the stealing of democracy with fancy words results in untold death and misery.  It does not work.  No matter who or what political party unleashes it, even now to this very day.  Take note, Republicans who would rob so many people of the right to vote.  It is on your heads, and it will harm you too.  

Oregon Outlier

Familiar yellow and blue,

large “block” letters shout

family movies, browsing heaven, and fun.

Enter and smell popcorn, glimpse new arrivals.

See the shelves laying out enticing new movies.

Once a common weekend experience,

now vanished forever – or almost.

There is one left, surviving on nostalgia.

News has spread far and wide about this

“Last video rental store standing.”

In days of streaming convenience and the

world at ones smartphone fingertips,

it is fun to look back at our entertainment 

options a couple decades ago.

Perhaps Netflix should buy the last

Blockbuster and keep it as a museum?

The Pandemic has ended so much public

interaction, turning us into 'streamers.'

Will browsing anything in person return?

Hope so – people need to be around each other.

But the old video rental stores are gone –

Now watch the nascent nostalgia industry explode.

Gun Smoke to Rocket Smoke

 

Rusted window frames in a collapsing wall,

Shows the same view Billy the Kid saw back when;

his memories are scattered all around Lincoln County.

Further down the highway a piece lies White Sands –

An alien landscape backdrops missile launches and

spaceport activities. Over yonder remains a

piece of the Old West, but over there lies a

gateway to the stars for humanity.

Silver darts pierce the sky, always reaching.

On the car radio some huckster is preaching,

In Alamagordo those museum people are teaching;

Through walls of belief and conviction, truth is leaking.

When will we make that hop from here to Mars, to Jupiter,

to Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto and the Kuiper belt?

Proxima Centauri, Sirius, Aldebaran, the Pleadies?

Probably not as long as those wagon trains took,

wending through trails of hope across someone else’s property;

Or so it might have seemed to some swaying, sickened settlers.

We will just have to make sure the property we do plant stakes in

does not belong to someone else, or we might be the ones planted,

dying on alien soils, expiring life and hope in some vain attempt.

Humanity become extraterrestrial fertilizer? Perhaps,

if we don’t improve our ability to get along with not only each other,

but also with the greater whole out there in the universe.

The galaxy, just like the Old West, may best be settled not

just with a fast gun, but a sensible mind and calm approach.

Hope we can make it out there among the nebula,

before they come in stealthy approach to our homesteads.

multi-disciplinary gropes

 

So many brilliant scientists in various fields,

reach for new heights of knowledge.

They map the human brain,

scan the galaxy for dark matter

with enormous telescopes,

visit deep-sea vents to study those

methane-munching microbes,

ones that feed a whole tree of life.

Knowledge so vast it fills many volumes,

hard drives, libraries of science data.

But every one of those scientists will tell you,

if they are being honest,

that there is more they do not know than they do.

One mentions a potential 35 trillion microbe species,

another talks about the mass of the universe,

and oh, by the way, most if it is dark matter -

stuff we do not really understand (yet).

Smarter than the average person by multiples,

they still do not know more than they do know.

They are still primates, reaching up and groping,

finding and discovering, quantifying and studying.

Yesterday seemed so shiny when it was all there was;

today it is a yellowing, fading memory, eclipsed,

subsumed by a greater, louder, noisier more colorful now.

What will tomorrow bring?

Just wait and see - 

I'm sure it will be interesting!

What, another year of them???

 

Infection rates are dropping,

while deaths decrease daily.

Vaccinations are increasing,

Could we start to mingle safely?

Not quite, say the epidemiologists;

We must stay on guard against Covid-19!

While it feels good to be an optimist,

feels even better to keep a healthy sheen.

May have to wear those masks into 2022,

if that is what it takes to stay alive.

By then we may get used to wearing two,

put up with the inconvenience to thrive…

Anything to tamp down the rate of sickness,

keep the world healthy, and emerge strong.

I would wear three to help us regain fitness,

set new goals, and finally sing victory songs.

Another Act

 

You have had all the fun,

sexed all the good sex you want,

known and met and slept with

the glitterai and low-downers and others.

Worked all the crazy shifts,

went without sleep or slept at odd hours,

“Been there and done that” at so many jobs.

Taken orders and given orders, been trained

and trained others, worn responsibility’s mantle

that holds back so much and allows so little.

"What next?:   You ask, "where do I go from here?"

The final drop-off is drawing closer way too fast.

Need to find and live that third, fourth, fifth act

and fast, before your clock runs out entirely.

The gun we all run under – yet no less urgent.

But we will not find out by sitting at home,

explore hidden caves by hovering outside,

behold vistas of outer space by staying on ground.

Rather must push the shaking corpus out there,

yet again, to be amazed, astounded, or at least amused.

Once more to that leaden Front Door,

to cast it open and inhale the outside,

draw energy from sun and air and hope inside.

Here goes nothing –

see you on the other side.

Is it cold enough to freeze a ghost?

 If I die when it is this cold,

will my soul freeze too,

maybe shatter, fall back

to the ground in shards

that await a passer-by to step on and

crunch the essence, like others did

self-esteem when I breathed in flesh?

I can believe it. Sure as I’m shivering

right now while typing this.

The cat snuggles on the bed at night;

offers to keep me warm if I keep her warm.

I take the deal, knowing she will not stay long.

Any warmth is welcome, human or feline.

If an animal dies, its soul tries to fly,

yet just may be frozen mid-air tonight.

A bit more white dust added to the flurries

that flutter down to cover windshields,

cover corpses and souls in alabaster shine.

In a few days the temps should moderate,

and the Sun will glow through the miniblinds.

Bodies and souls still intact will celebrate

with a vengeance:

Die, winter, Die! Now!