Thursday, February 21, 2019

Journal note, 21 FEB 2019

Rambling bits-

I should have been a monk. That sounds wrong, though; I don't have any regrets like that. It's just that the idea of quiet days sounds nice. Meditation. A little work around the place. Some dharma study. Poems in an old notebook. A little more meditation. Not bad.

This is, let it be noted, a very bad day for knees, my knees, the both of them. Walking, getting up, sitting down, stretching -- it all hurts. Ugh. I suppose I'll need to send back the trampoline.

Still, see the good, right? Two damn fine coffees today. One is an excellent, rich, dark, French roast and the other is a smooth Hawaiian medium roast. I've been going back and forth, mildfully making pour-over brews. Maybe I could be a coffee barista Zen monk with special caffeine juju. Have you got a mojo working? Extra shot with that?

And tonight I shall have to miss a bilingual poetry reading due to knee pain. It just feels too bad. I have a Mary Oliver book of poems from the library that I haven't gotten to yet. I'll have that instead. And an ice pack.

One of the projects for me as Poet Laureate is free poetry stall in City Hall, you know, take a book, leave a book? You've perhaps seen one somewhere? There's three in my neighborhood. Well, this one will be all poetry. And it looks like the beginning steps for this one are underway. That's all I say for now. If I said more I'd just be guessing.

I wish it would rain.


'Sunlight is the smiling face of Life'

Sunlight is the smiling face of Life,
Just at the moment when Life begins a new day.

Is it unusual for a man to be in love
With the universe, just as it is?

Here is the water, the air, and the earth.
Here is the corner where I can pray.

A new day, the sunlight joyously returns;
The wren in the jasmine watches.

21 Feb 2019

Wednesday, February 20, 2019

'There are people among us'

There are people among us who have a lot of money and yet have no wealth. Likewise  there are people with absolutely no money who are truly the richest among us. Today is a fine day to wake up.

20 Feb 2019

Journal. Day #680.

Health matters. Both knees are shot. Osteoarthritis. They need replacing, and I have the health coverage, but they won't do it until I drop some weight. And I find it rather heard to drop weight when I can hardly walk at all. In fact, I can hardly stand. Walking, getting up and down, these things hurt like hell. Even doing nothing hurts.

Also there is Baker's Cyst in the left knee, causing a lot of swelling.

Also, since the vertigo of last summer I have fallen 37 times. I have been keeping count. Sometimes I trip, but sometimes I am just standing there and things go sideways. Must be funny to watch, but it isn't funny for me.

I will give updates on these things when I have news.

I would like to give more readings in Sacramento, the problem is I am busy on the most common nights for readings, Monday and Thursday. I just can't get over there then. Heckuva deal. And I miss my Sacramento friends.                                                                                                                                                                                                       I did a radio interview yesterday for KVMR in Nevada County, but I am not sure when it will air. When I know, I will post it.

All good things,
20 FEB 2019

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

'The crows of Vincent van Gogh look lonely to me' //final draft

The crows of Vincent van Gogh look lonely to me,
Sweeping low over the field of wheat
That is ready to be reaped.

We all reap what we sow,
The crows are no exception.

When I met you we were both lonely,
And I saw you across a dance floor,
Looking like it was the first happy night
In a very long time.
Your face had a glow to it.

In my animal brain, I knew I would spent this life
Trying to keep some happiness on that face.

If you look closely at the painting by Vincent van Gogh,
Wheat Field with Crows,
You will see mounds of paint, like tiny mountains,
As if the paint were sculpted instead of brushed,
Little hands, little fingers, busy at work,
Pushing paint into the shapes of a wheat field
Flown over by a murder of crows.

And so in this life, I keep my hands and fingers busy.
To please you, my wife, I will sculpt and brush.
And sow.
Our crows will alight in the wheat and eat.


(An earlier version was published, but I have forgotten where.)

Journal entry, Day #679

Sunny, but rather cold for Northern California's interior valley. This morning I baked biscuits and boiled some eggs. Strong, black coffee from Hawaii. I slept unusually well, but forget to take any of my meds. Alas.

I'll have to double check my calendar, which is a whole two rooms away, but I think I have a radio interview today, over the phone, about my poetry. That's not so bad, is it? If there is anything I like to talk about, it's my poems.

My second day away from Facebook is going well. Pretty well, not perfect. I still left a couple of comments. For the most part, what I want to do is just leave my poetry links and move on. Twitter is still a little fun, but Facebook is dreary and boring, a hole to pour my time into.

If you need me, email, or comment at the bottom of any blog post. Or reply to a tweet; anything but Facebook.

8 am, I have already written a poem I like and edited another. Time to hit the shower and do some shopping.


'In the morning I empty the old seed from my bird cages'

In the morning I empty the old seed from my bird cages
And give my parakeet and my conure fresh seed.
I do not throw the old seed away, instead I toss it
Out on my back patio, where the wild finches live
Among the jasmine and the crape myrtle.
Tiny and beautiful, they devour this meal with gusto,
Like loggers after plates of ham and eggs.
As the finches hop about, I admire them,
So full of life, just like you and I.
They bless the world with their smallness.

19 Feb 2019

Journal note, 21 FEB 2019