DOES INFINITY PARALYZE TIME?©

MISSING FOOTNOTE

the morning dove in ebb and flow

sings as light fills silence

it's song fluttering down

and as the sun withdraws

embracing silence

music reappears within

to a parliament of senses with permeable borders

overlapping jurisdictions

language is the speaker of the house

the sound a murmur of caucuses

replete with criminals, jesters, poets and musicians

thunder trickles

tympanies are flecked with sacrificial screams and reason

it whispers secrets

laughs, sobs and grates

fingernails on a blackboard

lullabies

ululant hoots

violins play at love and treason

passing on improvisations

is it not amazing that even this catalog can do

without a rhyme and

rhythm need not be

prescribed

reading and writing preserve a community shy of pronunciation

words transcend themselves

passing a sunset from mind to mind

translating readers to writers who tremble at the source

naked in their time

the river flows

petals hint at storms

even politicians hint at points of light

cherry blossoms, Polish hot dogs, the scent of an evening song, taste of embarrassment, a sudden silence, all pushing that slow drift of sand

hidden from view

OFFBEAT

though harmony is an opinion

grand vistas have their place

there in the heart of wondering

on a shelf next to philosophy

just the right discord is necessary

surfing a rogue wave

this page is cramped

so let's be free

smash the barriers

crush grapes

the end is near

it wants a rhyme

arrhythmically

PORTALS AND RAILROADS

the day has come

when everyone can stomp the earth

without missing it

burrow down to

that which thinks it thinks

and makes up all this stuff

malnutrition, overpopulation, politicians, climate broils, arguments with your spouse, overdue library books, tires under inflated

excuse

a native state of

attention focused on nothing

which is always there

great portals of humanity are not temples or rivers

but simply this

without adornments

a quiet realization that speaks every language

put plainly

without words

SEA WEED

TREE EARS AND SCOTCH

erudition is the opiate of scholars

great temples are mausoleums

enjoy!

an infinitesimal calculus grain by grain

scours canyons to make rivers

deep roots

convolutions

a geology sketched in battles, agriculture, water canals, books, endless injustice, judgments and gold

cows are lawyers with horns

strolling through Kyo Po parking lot, a universal place

flurry of oriental faces

heirs to Buddhist tradition

soon Christmas will challenge The Great Recession

Safeway's speakers blaring good news

the melting pot

this sunny December afternoon

gets a boost from climate disaster

oh, a bag of peanuts salted in the shell

not very oriental

wasabi

soy sauce

gongs and clackers

where are the brightly colored little dolls

curried rice

the MG is running well

reminder of former dreams

and transitory good fortune

fueled by dead fossils

vampired for The Greatest Civilization Yet

I saunter

aging joints beg due consideration

but even more, why bother

with a pace ingrained through millennia of slavery

weeds grow

I pluck them

so what?

well

weeds grow

neatness is the order of the day

at least it harms nothing

not to mention quietness

the ultimate treasure

I drive to BevMo

first time in lots of years

gone!

in its place a new car dealership

oh

memories of camembert cheese, Wild Turkey

all dashed to transience

not to speak of Cutty Sark

which Discount Liquors, right next to Al's Arco

(come to think of it,  not an ideal placement)

didn't have, nor Scoresbys

but after twenty years of ignoring the store

it did have a bottle of Glenfiddich

single malt

freedom is a many splendored thing

surfs a language of its own origin

bringing, unexpectedly, the brass ring

whirligig life passing by without raising an eyebrow

a rainbow of brief showers

even though it's a damned hot afternoon

Kyo Po parking lot

weeds and all that

bright red head bands, dancing Taiko drums, leaves stalking Ninth Street in San Jose, a discarded chopping block in the alley by Soko Hardware, paper lanterns,

the tourist trade oblivious to a hard reality:

internment camps

chess and mathematics, the Manhattan Project, Highway 101, Dinah's Shack, Pear Williams, Kanno Do, all manner of things skirted by mass media

my father-in-law's memorable phrase:

"the masses are asses"

all rolled  into a snail shell

like a fortune cookie

sent on a voyage