Bookish ADVENTURE

took a trip somewhere
in the twenties
as opposed to the zeros
what glorious fun
dancing to the new hot
jazz - in a ballroom gown
dressed to the nines
murder and tiny mayhem
sex in an old well
drinking unknown cocktails
vividly described hangovers
in the crazed conundrum
of this current quagmire

To fall trees

Gentle generous trees
of blasting colors
I marvel at your hues
yet the mansuetude
of shining on my road
humbled at nature's foot,
pursued by the night's
lack of sleep and energy
and you hit fabulously
my dopaminergic neurons
slumbering - awakening
yes - I am alive
and gawk at the foliage
on this early fall morn

Crossroads

a straight line
running ahead
break
stop
two crossroads
another possibility
hmmm
which to grasp
if one then something
if another hence
two more branches open up
the third prospect
grows into four new options
the equation does not add up
but keeps entangling
the threads -
at that time you can
without looking back
incriminating
your choice
only pick one
intelligently,
intuitively,
or toss a coin

Lost key

lost a key
found tons of treasures
trying to locate it

lost a key
found old kids' pictures
trying to locate it

lost a key
the past haunts seeker
trying to locate it

lost a key
odds and ends thrower
found it not

To P who helps me forever

Harvest Moon

Harvest moon - hunter's moon
Samhain - Hallow's eve
we sow - germination - we pluck
only to acknowledge those
who came before who lived
alongside with us
those who live in the same hour
we are them, we are us,
our children shall remember
that they will also partake of
Harvest Moon - hunter's moon
Samhain - Hallow's eve


mors ianua vitae = death is the portal of life

Goodbye to an era haiku

walker in the dusk
hallows the hollow warfare
white lilies dubya

the coach's speech

sometimes I help too much
in the hope that I am modeling
at other times I help too little
inferring that you are lazy
I nudge - you choose - I root - you wait
you seize - I urge - you clinch - I pitch
I prod - you clasp - I cheer - you snatch
you slump - I goad - I lurch - you reel
on occasions I refuse to help
trusting you will wake up soon
on the grounds that sooner than later
the ball is in your court
ouch!

Fall's morn

listening to my own heartbeat
and the computer's purring
the heat system burping slowly
my autumn's early morn of
crisp frosty lawns
saffron trees baked in pale light
sprinkled with jalapenos
another fierce fall
how many more for my soul?

L'chaim

death
fall's motley message
far from spring
the brown worms
in the warm dirt
their soothing sleep
linking all
tombstones
to life

Thoughts of Ozman

In Aussie lands
where eucalyptus stand
where koalas climb the trees
where roos roam
near your home
my mind is filled with thee
so far away
and to this day
treasuring our potpourri
of youthful love
our friendship's glove
a part of my fleur-de-lys.

for Joel

A footnote

another day in YouTube sphere
reliving the youth in music
before my time too - doobedoo
some of the oldies and goodies

yesterday today and tomorrow
so our spring will be revived
in memories' swaddled lullabies
or youthful dreamed romances

swung to Viennese waltzes
in ball gowns - at proms
or in dust filled smoked bars
of Paris - London - anywhere

where melodies will take your
secret fantasies - only imagine
without Beatles - Elvis - Stones
a whole generation no relating

often I just wonder how the rap
could bring back such teen dreams
of today's youth - bang - boom - boom
thrill gone too real to dream

the sense of yourself - of you
will be revealed in your taste
of tonal combinations' recalls
dying with your visions - a footnote

Apolitical haiku

A bridge to nowhere
a wall for immigration
leaves falling from bush

Surreal economics

a tsunami slung around
the whole world
desperadoes trying to save
economies from foundering
in every body's interest -
but mostly its own
logic vanished
and as usual
feelings of me took over

Helllo Autumn

Snot - pouring out of my nose
Slime - behind the larynx falling down
Sleat - combining everything
Summa Summarum - I have a full blown cold
with soon to arrive cough -
guess what - it is fall
therefore it is time to serve

chickensoup - ah - with barley
- with
whiskey --- with anything....
cough cough sniff

Long Live Shakespeare!

One of the People:
Legislators, Fellow Americans,
and countrymen!
I come not the praise the bail-out
but to bury it.
The evil that men do lives after them
The money is often interred with papers
so let it be with the bail-out - the noble Feds
had told you that the bailout was needed
If it were so, it was a griveous fault
and grieveously had the Congress answered it
Here under leave of the Feds and the rest,
(but Congress is honorable
so therefore the legislators are all honorable)
Come I to speak at reason's funeral.
Reason was my friend, just and faithful to me
But the legislator said the bailout was needed
and Legislators are honest men
Wall street has brought many down in the dump
whose ransoms did the Wall street coffers fill?
Did this the Bail-out seem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, reason was swept,
ambition should be made of sterner stuff,
yet the Feds and the Prez said it was necessary
and the Prez ands the Feds are honorable men.
...
I speak not to disprove of what the Senate said
but here I am to speak of what I do know.
Greedy men all loved the interests so, not without cause,
what cause withhold you to mourn for your greed?
Oh, judgement! Thou art fled to brutish beasts
and men have lost their reason... bear with me.
My heart is in the coffin there with reason,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

Contemplation

The autumn leaves were falling -
leaving her fairy tale behind
her dreamless summer in the north
in her healer's healthy hands
Vigga the Volva went daily
to the wise woman in her hut
in her capacity as a seeress.
Her perpetrator - her henchman
had left the healer - seeking
new life - somewhere else -.

Sophia, her highborn, wise sister,
came from her Guernsey Island trip
paying her respect to the grandmothers,
the stone figures from eons ago.
Vigga's sibling extolled the island
and told her that on next year's Beltane
she, Vigga, should go and daven for this life
near the two steles on the Island
just as Sophia herself had done.

"Come with me, sister, to Yggdrasil
and sit in the last warm sun this year"
the vibrant Volva Vigga smilingly said.
The sisters gingerly wandered waywardly
to the Yggdrasil which had been tendered
by the Volva's tears and tutelage,
the tree now so healthy and high-broughed.
"Dear Sophia", the Volva began beguilingly,
her red mane shone so shimmeringly -
the sun behind her made her into the beauty
of womanhood which can only be found from within.
Her choice to bear the next generation
was hers alone - nobody should take that away.
"I am with child and I shall give birth
around Beltane, so either we should go
in a couple of weeks or it will have to wait
until the child is born. It was conceived in love -
not in hate - so even though I know you will
say I am too old to bear the child, I shall."
Highborn Sophia, looked luminously
and showered a sunshine of smiles on her sister
shredding any serious doubts of the volva.
"I shall encourage your fruit come forth
with the everlasting help of the wise woman.
Has she inspected you with her healing powers?"
"I am fine and fit to bear, and if I take
her healthy potions, there is no real danger!"
Walking would do me endless good and,
I think, that a trip to grandmothers' graves
would be well for me, I feel fabulous."

Just after the fifth season's cool morns
with spiderwebs and deftly dew-covered branches
the two sisters set off on the journey to
visit their foremothers, fulfilling Sophia's
prompt promise to the stones of Lilith' long lines.
Bringing her sister to her past and present
seemed to Sophia, highborn and wise, utterly urgent,
now that the Volva Vigga was with child.
That way they could mayhap get a divination
of what would become the child's future.
At least they would deftly doven at the markers.

Crossing the sea the Volva was viciously sick -
the waves welled up as the boat carried the sisters
the grey skies doomed their journey?
Sophia, no longer sure of her decision,
held a soothing cloth to her sister's brow
while the ship's bow hacked its merry way
through the greyish dark waters of the Channel.

They arrived at St. Peter Port, the busy habour,
surrounding the seeking sisters with life.
It was market day and the wares of the vendors
seemed inviting to the sisters, specifically
to the now vacant Volva Vigga, her stomach growling
for food - and feeding - so they found a tavern
near the market to sit and devour the sights
and fill their bellies with fine food.
The Volva was quiet while eating, she relived
her summer of love with her merry merchant.
Was she doing the right thing by having his kind?
Each woman wonders and ponders the perpetual problem.

The two sisters rested in a timberfilled hostellerie
and set out the next morn to visit
the two grandmother steles from eons ago.
Sophia, highborn and familiar with the roads,
having just visited the island in the summer
led the way to the first of the stunning stones.

Vigga the Volva having slept well the night
after their full fill of morn repast
embarked on the rocky road to Saint Martin
in high spirit and good mood, walking briskly.
The sisters were admiring the cliffs' clearings
and the sea's deliciously carefree meanderings
on the beaches along the Fort Road
the pale autumnal light over the shimmering sea.

They reached the Church of Saint Martin
and found the first of the two ancient stones
she truly had a face of a grand mother.
It was not the angry ghost' countenance
but the stern serenity of years passing
and both Sophia and Vigga dovened there.
Quietly, the graveyard spoke to stillness,
and Vigga felt a quietness well inside her.
Listening to the millennia's women's fates,
she found herself stretching gently
touching the old stone stele with the womanly face.
Both sisters spent a long time in contemplation.

Sophia, the wise and highborn sister,
showed Vigga the Volva some of the other sights
of the fey island - descending deep down
under the earth where concealed caves craves
anybody's overt and obvious curiosity.
Henceforth, the two seeking sisters' fairy tales
of their fey foremother's, alas came up short -
for them the hollows were nothing, but holes.
"Strange, sister, I feel nothing" Vigga mused.
"Neither did I this summer, so these are not
for our kind, only for the fair fairies!"

After two days of mulling around Sophia took
her sibling to the other grand stele.
The Volva broke no fast in the morn
because sometimes she felt whoosy and weak.

In Castel near St. Peter's Port at St. Marie
a small church yard overlooking the village
stands the other grandmother, great rooted
in the graveyard, comtemplating her church
away from the village - thinking inwardly.
The Volva Vigga and her sister Sophia, wise
and highborn headed towards the granite stone.
The wind had died deftly down - almost noon
the sun was out casting autumnal shadows
the colors of the trees radiantly shone
not a sound, but waiting for the noon bell.

Vigga the Volva looked upon the village
behind the grandmother stele - Bing - bing
bing - the sun suddenly hid - bing - a gust
of wild wind blew some leaves off the trees
bing - the grandmother started to speak -
the Volva and her sister davened - fell on to
their knees - praying - bing - "You have come
to hear your child's fate" - bing - the Volva
almost could not breathe - bing - "it will be
silent" - "yet follow its own nature" - "guiding
life" - bing - "earth born" - "craftiness reign"
bing - bing - bing - the wind calmed clearly
the sun appeared scintillating suddenly
the sisters searched to compose themselves
rised and stood before the still stele.
The Volva thanked the stone and placed next
to the other trees on the outskirt of the graveyard
a seedling from Yggdrasil as well as a pebble
- a tiny rock she had found in Scotland -
perfect round and white, but with a greyish sheen -
she had put it in her cape and it almost forgotten.
Vigga had found the gem on a beach after a night
in lush lovemaking with her traveller-knight.
The Volva bade the grandmother accept the humble
but well travelled stone as a symbol of love
placing the stone just touching the stele
on top of the earth - and as she watched
the stone magically disappeared - embraced.

Vigga the Volva and her sister stayed the midday
and into the afternoon - but no more - nothing
was said. They observed how a few others came
and looked at the steele, gawkers and non-believers,
yet, when these folks came upon the stone
they became quiet - if only for a moment.