The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
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
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The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_