It;s not easy learning something new

You talk trumpet and alto sax
You talk blues soul attack

The soles of your shoes
have steel taps

You rap on my door
You rap on the windows

I would bid you enter
were you not already dancing

upside down dancing
on my the ceiling

Jack, Jill and The Hill

Jack and Jill went up the hill to scan the horizon below.
Up there, Jill was inspired to spew esoteric.
You see, she  has a doctorate from Harvard in divinity,
and is currently engaged as an Episcopalian minister.

This (in part) is what Jill consecrated
as she and Jack fetched a pale of water
on a windy day in late September.

If seconds from minutes could be deducted
and minutes from hours, likewise, could be deducted,
would it matter absent space and matter?
For none to witness, wouldn't time also be missing?

Jill's ideas often flies over her hubby's head.
He's more down to earth than she.
I reckon, opposites do attract, after all.

You see,Jack's an Aggie degreed in accounting,
who currently owns two Pizza Huts  in Midland.,
the figurative dead center of Texas.

What's this poem about really?  Beats me!
I suppose marriage can be likened to a hill,
a tricky hike top and bottom

Verse Curse and Blessed

Verse comes to her,
or maybe it is she
spirited to verse.

Verse is like rain
that wets the brow
and drips under umbrellas.

What's bugging you?

Compared to us of two legs,
an insect's life is simple;  no good, no evil,
no gods to whom we should plead innocence,
no heaven to imagine nor to wish for

no hell to dread or damn, only eat or be sandwiched.

No couch of Freud, no church on Sundays.

It's human bean's pursuit of happiness which muddles hope
...and then of course, there are bosses, spouses and taxes.
What really then is two legged happiness?  Seems to me,
 happiness - like prune juice - is an extraction.

Seems to me, happiness is an abstract,
but much less essence than it is filler.
Therefore, an insect's life is by far the simpler.
Still, I would not exchange conscience, (good or bad)
for extra legs and stronger jaws to kill with.

Is He?

Is God a mathematician, an author has asked?
I reckon He is in volumes of verse
no one quiet gets,
some have even gone mad.

We stand in awe stricken
before the numbers.
doubt which is science,
faith which is art.

Yesterday's Day Before

She grooms the woods vigorously,
gives the leaves tongues more audible.
She has bounded over the ridge with imprudence,
her petticoats flying, a broom of blue northerner in hand
she smashes the clouds riffs east of Appalachia.

Sometimes, you have the sensation
the world is spinning out of control.
Stiff winds are welcomed, doldrums are not.
On a day such as today, the world must have been created,
though probably not with air conditioned from heaven.

Kurasawa's Ikiru

Fear not death nor long for it.
Let kindness and generosity
be your sole ambition.

To live selflessly is to live.
The snow lands soft.
The swing arcs smoothly.