Category: Art
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The Path Was Alive
The Path Was Alive the path was alivethis morningshimmerin’, slitherin’wavin’ to and fro OH! plethoras of skinksand prairie dogsplus the occasionaljackrabbit and roadrunnerdartin’ across the pathfrom the shadowsto the riverbankand away there were alsothe mandatory fence-sittin’pigeons and crowsout for the mornin’show –LE – 5/31/24
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‘June is Bustin’ Out All Over…’
JUNE Deep in emerald foliage, barky black and gray,moss frosted, giant, vine cloaked, arborealchia-pet Druids, the forest in repose. Hit-n-run Gemini rains leave the misty moorflush with flowers, flies, and toads.And the “real world” with its deadlines,dead-ends, and deadheads, screams“LIES, LIES, LIES.” Overhead, darkening skies adorn themselveswith plundered treasures of unicorn and dragon riders,the last…
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A Delinquent at Six – A Memoir Memory
I published this in my memoir last year, but I thought it would be fun to bring it back to show what a cool cucumber I was at age six–NOT! A Delinquent at Six I had been walked to school a couple of times by my Mom. After that, I was expected to walk with…
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Bird of Prey
Bird of Prey sitting in a dead oldbuzzards’s tree, preeningchecking-out the pathnorth and south, thenstaring keenly into the wash I’m not sure what it wassomeone said buzzardlooked more like a largehawk to me, buttoo far to clearly see four times the sizeof the strutting pigeonsI’ve seen in the parksand sitting the power-lines along city streets…
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Memorial Day 2024
A reprise of a memoir memory for today’s remembrances. During WWII, my dad was a radio operator on a Merchant Marine Tanker supplying the US Navy’s War Machine in the south Pacific. During wartime, the Merchant Marine becomes an Auxilary of the Navy. Dad received his training to become a radio operator at Great Lake…
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Typical Day on the Loop
A reprise from this time last year. Typical Day on the Loop Riding the Loophalf reclinedsun glintingoff side mirrormy two front wheelshugging the curvesback-wheel gearingdrives me easilyup hills and downpowered by legsand feet on pedalsupfront and raisedalmost eye-level Roadrunner scootsacross the pathchasing a skink lone coyote matchesmy pace butdown in the washoccasionally looksmy way as…
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Stream of Consciousness
Stream of Consciousness Here, there, everywhere, and nowhere – in my mind –and out, I’m thinking, dreaming, scheming – and learning to enrage everyone, perhaps even myself. I am not going to proceed with this because I’m not goingto deal in negatives – especially about myself.I leave that nitpicky shit to everyone else! I will…
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April’s Last Morning on the Loop Tucson
April’s Last Morning on the Loop Tucson horizon to horizon, a cerulean domenot a cloud in the skySol’s long, warm morning rayscast another perfect day a slight breeze bobs the heavyOleander blossoms up and downside to side on their long green stemsarching toward the ground all around Silverbell Lake is placid and stillfishermen snoozing in…
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No Do-overs
No Do-overs some old people complainabout where they endedin their journeys around Sol saying, if they had it to do overthey’d choose different directionsmake better decisions; but I beg to differ all things being equal (same conditions), everyone does the best they can, given their knowledge and circumstance-compulsions no matter their committed determinationtheir lives would…
CynOp 