Happiness?

I wonder about happiness, and whether
It is the same thing as having fun,
Or the like the feeling of a full stomach,
With a wine buzz, after a good dinner's done...
And I ponder on happiness because,
It occurs so inconsistently, as our lives unwind
In millions of high dramas and black
Comedies, dull reruns, all of it consigned
To the control of forces way beyond our ken...
So, maybe happiness is really a state of mind,
Always there for the having, the antidote
To pain and sadness, with which it is entwined...

Talking About Mutual Interests

O.K., so now we will negotiate,
Which is a way to fight
Using words, vice weapons,
And, could it be, we might
Find a way to concur, agree,
And thereby arrive at an
Arrangement, amicably...
Or otherwise, we surely can
Go off on our separate ways,
No harm, no foul, we'll claim,
All things being the same,
But the unsolved problem stays...

Three Pieces Of Toast

Limit your toppings:
I slice of ham, two of cheese,
But okra and broccholi,
Have as much as you please...

LDP Victorious

The evening of an election day
In Japan, where what was predicted,
Has, in fact, occurred, and a historic
Defeat was invariably inflicted
On those who had refused the mainstream,
But, also, were not smart enough
To to offer a valid, workable, alternative,
And so now they are lost, and will
Have to find a different way to live...

Better Than Before

It used to be the fifth lap around the park,
Dodging dogs on slack leashes and avoiding
The homeless emerging from the dark
Memory of their previous night of survival...
But now it's the third lap where the feel-good
Kicks-in, like some gassed endorphin revival
Originating in my thigh muscles, which flow
Up to my brain, the third lap does it, and
As I keep jogging, that's all I really know.

Not In

Out of ideas,
And
Out of options,
So I'm
Out of my head,
But also
Out of the way,
Ultimately,
Out of order,
Yet not
Out of luck,
Incidentally,
Out of gas,
This too, shall pass...

The Smart Ones

Some of those who have a knack
For mathematics, go on to jobs
In the New York fast track
Of high finance, making gobs
And piles of electronic money,
Never getting their hands dirty,
And it now seems quasi-funny
That they, who were teased as nerds,
Get uber-rich by the age of thirty.

Take Only One

Middle of the night, I am awake
And hungry, and there's two
Sesame bagels on the table,
But I only take one,
Because I know that if I
Eat both (very easily done),
There would be no way to mollify,
Her anger in the morning...

Arizona Tragedy

The fire came up too quickly,
And the Hot Shots could not
Adjust in time, and so they died,
At a place which burned white hot,
On an unnamed, nondescript ridge,
For long enough, to kill the men
Who had fought, courageously, the
Deadly flames, again and again...

Detroit 2013

The old brick warehouse's broken windows
Jaggedly, partially, sadly, reflect
The blue light from GM's headquarters
Towers, which loom, unreally, over a wrecked
City, now bankrupt and apparently dying
In a slow-motion spectacle, for all to see,
Mismanaged so long, it was not worth trying
To revive or restructure or resurrect,
And it's as if the vacant lots and crack houses
Have prevailed, and urban rot, unchecked,
Has achieved, over time, a rusty-rat-infested victory,
In a war which could have been won,
If "appropriate measures had been taken",
If only the right things had been done...  

Try Again

It was over before we really knew:
A love, hotly and brightly burnt-out;
Which, now that I am falling for you,
Makes me wonder if it will all repeat,
Stir the ashes of love, some kind of deja vu

Middle Aged Rant

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
Everything travels in circles,
Coming around to where they began,
Reruns, re-learning, the story of man.

Ashes to ashes, in god we trust,
Or being too busy, we don't,
Filled-up with food and forced laughter,
No one thinks of hereafter.

Ashes to ashes, love and lust,
Marriage is legalized rutting,
Women would rather be free, than mate,
But are tied by biology to their slavish fate.

Ashes to ashes, behold, with disgust,
The rich, and their carnal consumption,
For us, scraping by, it's sad but true,
The most and best belong to the few.

Ashes to ashes, cry if you must,
But tears will not salve the frustration,
Rather try to find joy in the small things,
The normal joys each day always brings.

Pamplona

Running down the street, barely in front
Of big crazed bulls, also running madly,
Hooves cracking against cobblestones,
And falling means things will end badly,
So we don't, and we try not to get gored,
Or trampled by the angry bulls, it is a
Total visceral thrill ... beats being bored...

Small Victory

"Now", she orders me, to get
An odd job errand done,
I say "Honey, O.K., O.K."...
(But here's how the match is won)
I find a good excuse for delay,
A reason for inaction,
Not too laughable, or lame,
And with the story in my head,
I go back to watching the game.

Sisters Of The Consolation Unbounded

Excitement and joy appear
Spontaneously, on each holy face,
Of the white-clad nuns going bonkers
Watching a famous bicycle race...

All This And Sunburn

Love on the beach,
Passionate, oily, pleasure-fun,
Except for the itchy sand.

Lorimer Burst (Redux)

One one-thousandth of a second is all it lasted,
A mysterious radio wave which was detected
About a billion, or so, years after it was blasted
Away, perhaps, from a distant revolving magnetar,
Out beyond the edge of our galaxy and our
Ability to comprehend that old, and that far...

Turkey, June 2013

Sometimes you have to do things,
It's like you don't have a choice,
Because not to act would mean
Ignoring the powerful inner voice
Which says: "This is wrong,
It must not stand", and so out into
The streets you go, with strong
Intent to take control and rearrange
Political affairs, only to find out that
Pain and blood are the cost of change.

蝉

The last days of the rainy season,
And something clicks-on in the brain
Of the cicada, who now has a reason
To dig it's way up from the dirt,
Under the roots of the maple tree,
Where it had been subsisting, waiting,
Seven years for this moment, patiently,
I suppose, but still wonder about
What, if anything, the bug was thinking,
All those years underground without
Air or light or motion, simply drinking
Tree-root sap and slowly growing,
Protected by being deep underground...
But now, a signal has been received
To claw and climb up and around
All obstacles, and emerge into the air
Of summer, grow wings, make sound,
With millions of other bugs also there,
The cicada sings mightily, under the sun,
For two weeks, then falls quiet, and is done.

The Gambler

It took me many years to realize
How to win at poker -- just be patient,
And watch their fingers, not their eyes...

After a while you come to understand,
An opponent's face reveals much less,
Than the grasping and twitching of his hand.

Remember 01 July 1916

Under a death-white summer's sky,
Toward the enemies' trench I run,
Too sweaty and confused to be scared,
A knife attached to the end of my gun,
Kinetics and luck will decide if I survive,
Or end-up as fly-food, under a cruel sun.

Elderly Realization

There is no new, things
Just repeat until you're old,
Shapes differ, substance the same,
The truth, already bought & sold,
Regardless of what you
May have been told...

The Unheard

A tree, falls,
In the forest,
And ...........

Hello, July!

Not quite noticing it, being
The busied-beings we have become,
Somehow, without our seeing
It, the year's latter half has begun.