Saturday, March 31, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Story Teller
Now as spring light fades into a softly
blue evening I turn to you and ask,
If you can tell me more?
The river doesn’t flow as rapid as
before and the lake is dry, no breeze
blows away dust of broken dreams
if you can tell me more tell it now
before light is an empty space and
stillness has lost its echo.
Now as spring light fades into a softly
blue evening I turn to you and ask,
If you can tell me more?
The river doesn’t flow as rapid as
before and the lake is dry, no breeze
blows away dust of broken dreams
if you can tell me more tell it now
before light is an empty space and
stillness has lost its echo.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Freedom for some
Seagulls fill the air with joy
anchored sailboats tug want to be free
sail around the world alone,
just as a Japanese fishing vessel did
ending up on the shores of Canada.
Alas, caught by the coast guard as it
prepared to sail for Chile and Peru.
Anchored in a lonely bay
waiting for its captain to catch up.
This slavery of navigation, yet it
had a year of freedom.
Seagulls fly, sleek bodies white as snow,
a storm is brewing
and the ocean is theirs alone.
Seagulls fill the air with joy
anchored sailboats tug want to be free
sail around the world alone,
just as a Japanese fishing vessel did
ending up on the shores of Canada.
Alas, caught by the coast guard as it
prepared to sail for Chile and Peru.
Anchored in a lonely bay
waiting for its captain to catch up.
This slavery of navigation, yet it
had a year of freedom.
Seagulls fly, sleek bodies white as snow,
a storm is brewing
and the ocean is theirs alone.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
shadorma poem
Shadorma
Tiny steps
Ornamental pool
A cool eye
Summer’s day
A long ominous silence
Endless tears.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Sunday at the Marina
Water in the marina, clear as diesel
fish swimming close to surface
in peace of seagulls,
which know they stink of human
waste.
This is not the fish that
will feed the five thousand.
A child strews bread crumbs into the water,
ignored by the fishes.
Seagulls’ shrieks and fall from the sky.
A man drops a glass of gin & tonic, on
the deck of yacht,
claws at his chest.
Ambulance and a nervous doctor
tells him not to smoke cigars
too late.
Young widow,
I hope she sells the bloody yacht.
Water in the marina, clear as diesel
fish swimming close to surface
in peace of seagulls,
which know they stink of human
waste.
This is not the fish that
will feed the five thousand.
A child strews bread crumbs into the water,
ignored by the fishes.
Seagulls’ shrieks and fall from the sky.
A man drops a glass of gin & tonic, on
the deck of yacht,
claws at his chest.
Ambulance and a nervous doctor
tells him not to smoke cigars
too late.
Young widow,
I hope she sells the bloody yacht.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
thoughts about cars
Drifting thoughts.
Interesting article I read,
in a few years robots and the chip
can take over most manual work
and cars are so advanced they
don’t need a driver.
75% of the population will be
permanently unemployed.
Appealing, but who is going to buy
the clever cars?
I think we have to rethink the future.
And a last thought who the hell wants
to drive a car
that drives itself?
Interesting article I read,
in a few years robots and the chip
can take over most manual work
and cars are so advanced they
don’t need a driver.
75% of the population will be
permanently unemployed.
Appealing, but who is going to buy
the clever cars?
I think we have to rethink the future.
And a last thought who the hell wants
to drive a car
that drives itself?
Friday, March 9, 2012
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Friday, March 2, 2012
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