BIRD BRAIN©

END DAZE

how many will admit

the incredible wealth of the last instant

as the global Ponzi scheme reaches meltdown

the wall of debt mislabeled “stimulus”

about to collapse

fossil fueled populations slide into famine

a lack of water clean enough to drink

atomic terrorists with suicide bombs

depleted soil

a new race of robots that ignore humans

biological experiments run amok

climate run amok

live in a voting country?

your vote is scheduled for a tsunami

have a cup of tea

swallow carefully

enjoy it

NAILS

just beneath this page flows a rushing river

an accumulation of ages, trilobites

bacteriological days

muck stored in fingernails and fungal toes

this page is farts

perhaps heralding successors to human life

but what do I know?

the miracle that has scribbled this has not disappeared

the unexamined life is yet somehow known

life is a day at the county fair

where its origins are dimly celebrated

spun out of cotton candy

great singers and poets

village days with haggling wives and sword faced husbands

playing salt and pepper roles

on a rollicking stage

gnats in the setting sun

a glittering crowd briefly lifted

only to disappear again

DIRECT

though a creature is found in civilization

its fate is of no concern

forms and features will change

maybe its origin is a mist

then a panther

then a spark preserved from fire to fire

in a place that evolved to encompass the earth

a shower of sparks celebrated in chandeliers

then the shared suffering of existence

on down to mall shootings and robber banks

great cathedrals

armies

nuclear weapons

peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

coffles

Van Gogh, Pollack and Bach

climate disaster

nose to the embers, iPhone flash mob

and such

as usual

the business of suffering might have been saved

except for french fries

cholesterol clogs civilization

hospitals prosper

rulers rule

flies fly

no use trying to wake the dead

music began with birds and lions, crocodiles and farts

the sun is the first percussion instrument

morning zazen is a river raft toward an outlet to nowhere

can you tap your fingers?

make them snap?

will they hold a flower?

HOME PORT

not much to say

just a day's work ended

the lemon tree defended itself

long sharp needle swords left holes that bled

even after showering

with precious drought water

and muscles that remember sawing, lopping, clipping

a mind cleared of accumulated bramble

a bout of TV news to clock the current tangle

more to the point is the day's beginning

with a stick of incense and three bows

silence

the endless silence

that never left the day

and now this moment

not a return but a continuation

BIRD BRAIN

one morning it saw a roofing tile

a captivating sight

the dream nest

hand crafted

on a Spanish adobe in Menlo Park

but the tile was cracked

a replacement would be needed to complete the dream

and it would have to be hand crafted like the others

after a long search

over many lots of used building materials

just the right one was found

such a warmth of celebration

it served admirably

until the bird left

the memory of the tile

through half a life time

slowly receded

a forgotten tether

then unexpectedly on a certain morning

the tile came to mind again

without its tether

floating free as the breeze

going somewhere

hand crafted?

it didn't matter