About This Blog

I don't mind a bit,
That some of my
Poems are shit,
Because others are
Not that bad, and it
Is just something
I cannot, will not, quit,
Waving my fist at the sky,
I exclaim: "Create or die",
My solitary battle cry...

A Matter Of Focus

Science has shown that
The mind which wanders less,
Is much more apt
To experience happiness...

Do not dwell upon the
Trail of a dreamy star,
Just focus on the now,
And be happy where you are.

Post-Fukushima

The car runs into the cow
On a road, where there
Are no people now,
To control the cattle,
Because of what happened before
In a complex event, involving
Cesium 137 and 134...

London Olympics 2012

Nationalism advertised through
Sport, sovereignty asserted
By the bodies of ahtletes, who
Gather in the Olympic village
For training, trysting, and eating,
All paid-for by Nike and Adidas,
Before going out and competing,
In the colors of their nations,
The young strong athletes seek
Championship and ovations,
While the countries' older fatter
Leaders, issue acclamations.

Pre-Java

I'm slowly enjoying it, feeling oddly refreshed,
That nice fuzzy moment in the morning,
When the gears in my head haven't meshed.

Our Enchantment

Is the magic gone, that sparked
Between us, like some kind
Of spell we would cast
At each other, never mind
That the buzz wouldn't last,
Our giddy magic moments
Seem a thing of the past...
Yet we still hold each other,
No longer young, we hold on tight,
Husband / wife, father / mother,
Still dream of magic, in the night.

Berth-12, Yokosuka, 26 July 2012

Standing, expectant, on the pier,
As the big ship comes in from the sea,
Inside she smiles: "He's finally here!"
She tip-toes and strains to see
Him, among the hundreds clad in white,
Lined-up along the deck, high above,
Most of them reunions waiting to happen,
Sailors coming home, returning to love.

Flesh Or Flush

I need to flush out an idea
From my muddled mind,
Then flesh out the idea
Into some kind
Of meaningful word string,
A composition thing.

Mirage From Space

It took six million years,
For light from a distant galaxy,
To reach us, looking up from here,
Under the exo-atmosphere...

The faintly rainbow-silver light
Delivered from an extinct star,
Seems so real-wondrous to our sight,
Rather than just nothingness from afar...

Celebrity

You worked so hard, and tried
To become famous, and then you
Are, and now you try to hide
From exactly the attention
Which you wanted so badly
Back then, not to mention
The money you make, which sadly
Doesn't buy happiness or peace
Of mind, only some pleasure,
Which evaporates too soon,
Leaving you alone to measure
Benefits versus cost,
And was it worth what you lost.

James Holmes Is A Symptom

A crazy man with gas and guns,
Imitating art inside his head,
Cruelly attacks the innocent ones,
Shooting, until many of them are dead...
A smart man gripped by insanity,
Could not yet realize that he,
Should have shot himself instead...
And all that remains at the scene
Of the killings, are bullets and blood,
And the cops who always intervene
Too late to stop the guns,
Which today will yet again be sold
To other random crazy ones.

For Whom The Locust Sings

The first cicadas of the summer heat
Are singing dirges over the dead
Hydrangeas, lining the side of the street,
Once vibrant blue and pink flowers,
Now wilted and faded, in complete
Submission to the hot Sun's powers.

Beloved

What sort of dictionary
Should be used, when
Words cannot describe
What I felt just then,
When you smiled at me,
So spontaneously...
Yes me, a word-loving
Rational fellow,
Reduced by your smile,
To a pile of jello.

Clothesline Epiphany

It's impossible to predict,
When inspiration will hit
Hard, and interdict
An otherwise normal flow
Of a Wednesday's thinking
That "this is all I know"...
It's like a blue blinking
Light which says "IDEA",
Announcing the arrival,
With mental tremors and shocks,
Of a really good solution,
While I'm hanging up my socks...

Neon Beauty

(Photo by Geoffrey Hamilton, 1955-2011)

In heaven there is no beer,
That's why we drink it here,
And when I'm gone from here,
My friends will be drinking all the beer.

(From an old German Bauhaus song.)

Solar Spirit

God could be the Sun,
Shining warmth on everyone,
The Sun eternally burning,
Lighting our way, our yearning
For an eternal being, above,
Who brings forth life and love...

God could be in that part
Of us which wonders and feels,
In the gut or the heart,
Which inspires, which heals...

God could exist, or maybe not,
Unlike the Sun, which all can see,
Trusting myths we've all been taught
We gamble on gaining eternity.

Magic Moment

Another day begins, and I drink
My coffee in a sweet suspended
Moment... I drift and think
Of plans yet to be upended,
Or influenced by the motion
Of the random things
Each new day brings...

George Burns Senryu

At my age,
Flowers
Scare me.
- - - - - - - - - -
Happiness is having a large,
Loving, caring, close-knit family
In another city.
- - - - - - - - - -
I can remember
When the air was clean
And sex was dirty.
- - - - - - - - - -
I spent a year
In that town,
One Sunday.
- - - - - - - - - -
When I was a boy
The Dead Sea
Was only sick.
- - - - - - - - - -
You've got to be honest;
If you can fake that,
You've got it made.

Easton's Logic

Why stand, when you can sit?
Why sit, when you can lie down?
Why worry, when you can quit
Consciousness, and drown
In the lake of sleep, for a bit...

Science Fiction

I don't which is stupider,
Green men on Mars,
Or lizard men on Jupiter,
Pulp fiction up in the stars;
Imagination out of compliance,
With the scriptures of science.

Japanese Superstition

Don't look into the crow's eye, 
All you'll see is black, 
He'll hit you with a bird curse, 
And never take it back.

(By Mark Harm Niemeyer)

Tragedy In Otsu, Shiga Prefecture

Forced to rehearse his suicide
By the bullies in his school,
The weak boy, with no place to hide
From the relentless and cruel
Pressure, now lies dead,
On the pavement, below
From where he jumped, instead
Of letting someone know...

Improvised Explosive Device

Mesopotamia is about as far
From Nebraska as you can get,
And in the middle-Aughts,
When our commanders had yet
To learn how to fight,
Or to get things right,
Bringing in the tribes to be on our side,
And our Humvees had yet to be
Improved, with steel plates applied
To protect us from the blasts of IEDs,
That's when I lost my legs,
Both of them, below the knees.

Lonely Optimism

The many kinds of peace,
Which we all seek,
We, who know no rest,
We, the harried meek
Inheritors of the messed
Up world our parents left...
What peace can be found
When greenhouse gases abound,
And too many people are around...
The kinds of peace we need
Are provided in pills and bottles,
In the null of sleep, indeed,
We long for a peace which throttles
The bilious place where anxieties breed...
We hope, that hope will not betray,
We hope, that hope will yet succeed.

Leopard Man

It could be me
Looking down at you
From up in a tree...
Might I change my spots?
If required, yes I can...
Part chameleon, part
Joker, I am Leopard Man...
It could be me
That sets you free,
I exist in art,
Where I can start
Psycho-creative thrills
From pterodactyls,
I can summon dream birds
To fly in your head,
I can write rainbow-colored words
Or purr a song instead...
It could be me
To Leopard-stalk your tired
Empty days, and pounce on
The boredom-pig, make you inspired...
It could be me, it's true,
Or, it could be you.

(Art by Mark Harm Niemeyer)

Particles At Play

Leptons lying in a Higgs field of grass,
Quarks busy putting their clothes on,
The forces are playing, but what about mass?
Ask mysterious Mr. Boson.

The Eye Of The Beholder

The village idiot,
May be as dumb as he seems,
But he has the most
Incredible dreams,
Which, could they be displayed,
Villagers would see and realize
Assumptions made
Were misled by their eyes.

Eyeball Liberty

Look surreptitiously, but do not touch,
Honor marital ties and trust...
Touch me, and think of another,
If you really must,
For our love will always smother
Your daydreams of lust.

4th Of July, Yokosuka, Japan

Standing next to an old memorial stone
For a Battleship sunk by the Americans,
I see Stars and Stripes raised, not alone,
But aside Rising Sun, above the dull black
Steel of a Japanese submarine moored
Across the bay, and it makes me think back
To the awful burnt and bloody fight,
Often to the death, against implacable attack,
Which ended in ashes and pain and blight,
Now, here, decades after, this wondrous sight
Of the flags of former bitter foes raised,
Flying side-by-side, Japan honoring an ally's
Independence Day, leaves me touched, amazed.

Manning The Rails

I stand on the edge of the deck,
With dozens of others, faced
Outwards, each a white-clad speck
When seen from ashore, each braced
In the position of Parade Rest,
As our big gray warship enters port
Flags raised high and fully dressed,
My arms really hurt, as do my knees,
But there's no relief yet, for me, or the rest
Of the sailors, flapping in the breeze.