SHARP TOOLS©
SANTA'S GHOST
in the heat
the iPhones come and go
speaking of last year's summer snow
on Christmas day
the hummingbird arrived
inspecting fuchsia blooms
the gift card —
perhaps a trip
to Orchard Supply
the shelf is lined
all kinds of feeders
elegant —
that blue glass teardrop shape
shelf price: $29.99
sale sticker: $7.50
swipe the card: $0.01
O Philosophy!
your unearned bonanza
is a ghost in the machine
EMERGENT CHANGE
are we dodos?
human evolution affects everything
and naturally our civilization
cosmic consciousness is appearing
unshackled harbingers
joined by planetary Change
are the next stage of transformation
THE LAST SUPPER
the very absence of a tsunami is a big deal
flotsam and splintered houses
a mangled radio from high school days
bits of photographs, possibly false memories
which had all seemed so solid, so real
it's a good deal
life without all that stuff
is possibly difficult
but the nets and tethers and tangled debris
are returning to the sea
on the cliff a tree is undisturbed
people on the beach are setting up a picnic table
inhabiting a landscape painting
with sea gulls and a Ferris wheel
they haven't noticed it's the dream
of a lucid dreamer
free to sit at dinner
with hungry ghosts
exchanging pleasantries
CHECKPOINT CAIN
the open box declared nothing to hide
while going through customs
the overweight agent with a mustache
naturally suspicious
with an inaudible chuckle, the box smirked
ludicrous
the usual thing
hiding right there in plain view was nothing
almost a political statement
but a speech, under the circumstances, seemed unlikely
more to the point, if it could be brought to that
would be a meditation, possibly to begin
with the nature of cardboard, the dyes used and so on
there are few unintended boxes
accidents are the habitat of presumed chaos
and there are few security guards with patience for reality
invisible though it may be
and so the box was checked through, scot free
flies followed it
as though they knew it knew something
snowflakes fell on it
and melted
laughing all the way
NAME DROPS FALLING
numerous are those enmeshed
a duck paddles over memories
getting free
for those who would like to be
a trek through the forest
no telling what might appear
there are bonds with civilization
what if food were too difficult to get?
or perhaps it's like stalking an elusive feeling
that just dodged behind a tree
what if food were not tasty?
desires live within
but the journey continues
it doesn't matter if nothing appears
just walking, breathing, being part of the forest
birth, old age, sickness, death
violence, slavery, climate change
during recent deluge days, fresh air blowing
let's keep the storm drains clear
reports of flooding that might happen here
civilization is not preordained
earthquakes, asteroids, bursts of deadly gamma rays
butthis time
human activity is decisive
all kinds of reports
riots, North Korean hackers, taliban massacre
of grade school children
though the prime directive of power is perpetuation
continuity of destructive habits is not assured
institutions that enforce them are bypassed
a din on the roof
rain spout splatter
civilization can Change to meet the climate
but when assaulted with suicidal determination
violent momentum warns of nuclear annihilation
throngs of winter stars
bloom songs of our backyard jade plant
red chimney bricks
business as usual might bring
the sixth extinction or
the Change can support Self realization
a transformation
boundless, inherent in all, that goes beyond
the frightened “I” of perpetuation
vast dark roiling clouds move silently
unnameable, a slight flutter of attention
returning
opportunities remain:
a tech writer escaped the war machine
became a gardener
and sharpened his tools
for this
