POETRY FOR SPRINGING

Like a good rendering, life has simmered down to its essence.  I only seem capable of the very basic tasks that get me from day to day - simple functioning exercises, making sure there is decent food to eat daily, getting dressed when I have to go out, computer chores of keeping up with on-line shopping and emails, reading some news in the NYTimes and the Guardian, on-going apartment repairs and organization, doctors appointments and tests.

After all that, I only have energy for diving into a movie or series, stay up late watching and finally sleep by around 2 am.  An aide or housekeeper or assistant comes 4 days a week for a couple of hours of help with shopping, laundry, cooking and by Friday I am on my own for the weekend.

Except for these monthly newsletters, there is little in the way of initiation or progress. My best practices elude me and I am largely shaky, unsteady on my legs, and have to be especially careful not to fall. There does seem to be some sort of inner balance, now that the arthritic shoulder has been repaired, and I don't often fall prey to anxiety or despair, even as our country is careening into Fascism. Somehow I believe there is enough truth and light still functioning to eventually overcome these dark forces, but I may not live to see it.

There is nothing specific threatening my health, but on-going circumstances of old age include challenged skeletal, respiratory, digestive and circulatory systems. My kidneys are borderline and I have an aortic aneurysm that has to be watched.

Aside from all that, I feel fortunate and possible and somehow beyond the reach of all the forces seeking to bring us down. As spring comes, I offer a couple of poems from recent years.

BORN IN 1943, I AM FROM …

a long line of wasps

void of ethnic flavor

riding privilege into poverty

wasting my advantage

shadowed by disappointment

into my ninth decade

zero tolerence for bullies

scant means of defense

siding with those who fight

for a right of respect

in this world rife with neglect

and ignorant indifference

humor’s my refuge

stoicism my crutch

to laugh and endure impossible odds

in this, the only moment we have.

ORIGINS OF WORK

while raking topsoil

in this unlikely 'garden of one's own'

we turn over

mundane daily facts

on necessary tasks

and surprise!

a plethora of raw words

bubbles up

begging me

please!

apply an alchemy of change

create another succinct filter for this life.

BREATH ALERT

you breath life at me

I listen, inhaling, taking still-time

before I sigh again

and respirate, rhythms shared

just a sense of a breath of a hope

just some common zeal

lookin' out at the end of the rope

enjoying our last meal

who is to blame in a spiritual world

when a ball is dropped

an awareness undetected?

blame it all on some god?

oh for a love that doesn't crumble

if I breathe too fast

erratic, non-erotic people

drop into the abyss of infrequent

whispers reduce the air

clear as a bell pierces contemplation

heart and head listen, battle to agree

there is no more quiet in breathing

body - demands attention, focus and discipline

spirit - wants only to be stroked and encouraged to fly

mind - when it's not preoccupied with musings and

smiling about information (that Richard Foremen, for

instance, considers stupidity a pre-requisite for creativity)

these great gaps

these distances

between

one encounter and the next.

WHEN UNCOMFORTABLE WITH PEOPLE - IMAGINE THEM EMOTIONALLY NAKED

entering Washington Square Park from 4th Street

my ears pick up this thread of conversation

"the only thing that drags me back down

is my ego

it's the only thing that drags me back down"

I don't see the man

only his voice

ringing out, lamenting

choice and inevitability

so I keep walking

through an autumn evening's bustling mosh pit

people parade in costumed flagrancy

trying to be anyone they're not

a desperate need to exercise individuality

as though humanity

is trying to evolve from

a kind of limited trapped insanity

one person at a time

a beautiful light skinned

blue eyed black girl sits close

I watch her apply exceptional skill

in great detail and focus

carefully, meticulously rolling a fat blunt

I compliment her on her expertise and she replies

"you made my day"

everyone needs a little validation for simple things

they happen to be good at

partial to cruising dogs

I quickly recognize,

opposed to human animals

these joyful creatures

wear their souls up front

for all to see

while people hide their depths

and show diverting masks

of "leave me be."

Glass art by Chihuly