In Reality

nothing more each day
replete with pleasures
immersion in reality
natural human being
sufficiency and more

Just Notice

if I sound a mite exasperated
it may be because I am aren't
you aware of what you make
happen on the receiving end

no I know pay attention to my
own body enough to wonder
about my poetry and prose
affect exasperation to control

you be you and I'll be me just
notice who else is in a room
as full of thoughts feeling
fine about sharing the air

Drop In

one rose garden is enough
but it's just the beginning
drop in and check it out

or one good restaurant if
better than home cooking
we can relax and converse

one attraction per town
unless you live there then
you may want a lot more

Pure Idea

stone gives way to paper
mystery to the word as
paper gives way to pixels
the word interchangeable
with music and pictures
bodies live as pure idea
sensitized to all media
reproducing the sublime

Good Will

if I could but think
and say my knowing
I would be wise enough

what I might realize
inform my choices be
content for my verses

instead I am consumed
with maintenance tasks
undertaken in good will

trivial arrangements are
neatly realized careful
habits faithfully maintained

and within this fine order
freedom still one's friend
is ready to be romanced

Many Times

actually being there accounts for no thinking
that you were there before or will come again
one of many times when something happened
more important than was happening elsewhere

actually being yourself in the identical situation
you knew before and before that knew nothing
still this is now and that's all that matters just
you and me and the rest of the cast of our lives

Sure Enough

what I wanted to know was what I wanted to do
when anything was possible everything in doubt
now know better in fact am doing it sure enough
of what I like can manage and succeed in giving
gratefully accepted comfortable in my own shoes

A Palace

I would build you a palace
if I were emperor and you
wanted one I would do most
anything but I can't do much
each of us has our own life
to live as only we can do it
and one has to admire you
for doing it the way you do

Easy Drive

a blizzard in Denver
another day in Portland
ramen "The Big Short"
an easy drive home

circumstances change
and we must adapt
no sense in resisting
what happens anyway

Shared Values

our way each different no judgment
of each other / the power goes out /
then comes back on / my thought
barely in formation with Brussels
on my mind everything threatens

we want nothing to happen at all
different from what we arranged
agreed values bring us together in
love memory mutual appreciation

Flawed Logic

do I have to open up
more than the usual
accept flawed logic
I cannot understand
yes and yes contain
more than the usual
day's warm emoting
as formally as Bach
conveys all possible
heat of the moment

Leaving Now

what I do not say is all the basic
obvious that 80 does not feel the same
as 70 which I can't begin to remember

I don't say more or play Bartok
which would only add to the racket
bad enough with folk musicians

the fiddler blocks the path to the door
we are not the only ones leaving now
turn off the radio pick up a good book

This Desire

what or who is driving
this desire to continue
doing feeling knowing
sharing touching being

puppets without master
must act on their own
although mechanically
moved like all the rest

whirling through space
led on by gravity's tug
each with its own idea
explaining its own life

Yard Work

Phineas acquitted in Chapter LXVII
Trollope tries our patience nightly
as the winter gradually unwinds
flowers blooming mostly white
a little yard work makes me stiff
Julian is coming to visit tomorrow
the exciting season marches along

Equal Terms

he bear dances friends
give me a ride in the dark
after poetry and yogurt

everyone has plenty to say
if you can understand them
words and meaning too

earnest youth and age
meet here on equal terms
yearning to be known

Many Worlds

war all over year after year
nobody paying any attention
except people caught up in it
deliberately or plain unlucky
we don't really want to know
many worlds exist in parallel
happy that we love our own
nothing to say about others

In Retreat

light emotions light my verse
why anything else if you can
help it no one more seriously
than these easier acceptances
as long as the situation allows

dark days are in retreat even
if you wouldn't know it rain
inside and a bird trapped in
the skylight I couldn't help it
if I tried to therefore I won't

tragedy rises before comedy
no one laughs at suffering I
hope fate stays on my side
and my loved ones prosper
healthy loving enlightened

Felt Duration

musicians enter the chamber quietly
acknowledge applause wait for silence
synchronize minds bodies and begin
performance structures felt duration
once begun you are subject to its grip
thoughts wander nothing else happens
except the music 'til it climaxes finishes
releases performers and audience alike
to be repossessed by nonmusical time
pulsations of real life refilling the void

Good Time

while we're here appreciate
you are the only you be
good at it have good time

while we're here be good
to each other and yourself
wise enough to appreciate

while we're here observe
certain rituals of selfhood
see yourself in the mirror

while we're here we live
backward younger purer
ever closer to the real

C'est moi

say toot your horn
say what you will
then be that way
as if it mattered
where I am what
I may think or do
c'est moi c'est tout

Golden Age

nothing in The New Yorker I want to read
five percent of the Times does my sorrow
for South Sudan benefit either them or me
baroque music at Reed is too much trouble
in the pouring rain we prefer to stay home
never anything on tv that I care to watch
though I know this is its very golden age
can't believe I devoted my life to theatre
I wanted to be a connoisseur of everything
broadly deeply aware of truth in my time
changing world changing me some story

A Jolly Finale

emotion in music improves the real
so ambiguous I think I am happy
am I really when something may
happen making everything worse
life does not respect artistic form
which promises allegro after largo
a jolly finale after sighing lament
to be sorrowful in music is a joy
sadness and loss becoming beauty

Just Begin

if this is temporary
what is the tempo
who gets to decide
or do we just begin
and hope it works
as it probably willjust

All Idea

idea is all there is except the body
which finally is sure to defeat us all
and who exactly we are living with
which is other primary existences

where we are is little more than idea
unless comes revolution war famine
or natural catastrophe destroys town
and where we think we want to be

ideas about ourselves are who we are
until the body fails us suffering dies
ideas and chance decide what we do
what we do becomes what we are

all idea we are only bodies as ideas
thinking we exist in this dense form
that the universes around us are real
idea embodied winks out all gone

Perfect Principles

stop and do what you have to do
then you can do something else
wanting to be alive and have fun

being somewhere else entirely
then coming back assures success
if you've done what you had to do

then you can do anything you like
you're free free free remembering
perfect principles of musical style

Old Friends

music old friends
eating the ocean

don't we have fun
while we still can

out of the wind
the day was calm

Goodbye Again

he felt he was playing himself badly
not intending a personal appearance
he was surprised by people he knew
from an earlier chapter of his career
as a human inhabitant of the planet
continuing as they had always done
making art learning interesting facts
children growing up near retirement
then what he wondered stay on here
or still young in the middle of being
evidently he looked as he always had
although they all looked much older
I'm all right he thought aren't we all
good to see you and goodbye again

Show-Offs

what is music anyway
a career for show-offs
with superior abilities
a show for grey-hairs
who once loved it and
still love the idea of it
lucky I am not a critic
the fashion is changed
I don't like it anymore

Their Points

what can be said has been said again
who can be sad is even sadder later
the whole discourse paralyzingly dumb
who are the people who think like that

what was understood is now forgotten
discovery was only thrilling at the time
no one cares anymore if they ever did
emphasizing their points with gestures

what is the principal principle today
if everyone is occupied with texting
when the king is murdered no one sees
until everything is over and we're home

Still Me

still here hydrating
a normal moment
before I fly away

packed and ready
decisions made
I will actually go

I will still be me
taking here along
bringing it back

Close Enough

like me yesterday
suffering through
I am better today
a 24-hour virus
or close enough
to be comforting