The trade deadline is here
My team is standing pat
The glory years are done
Maybe waivers will get us free
Of the giant contracts
With so little return

And teachers are over paid?

A Being

The passions of people
Never fail to amaze me
Contrarians loving to argue.
Combatants loving to fight.
Collectors loving to accumulate.
Creators doing whatever inspires them.
These things and ways that people love…

How does it come to be?

Seeing what turns them on
Allowing their obsessions to become alive
Is an avenue into the wonder
Of individuality and group think
Where status and ego
Converge to make a person
Who they are

A Heritage of Stereotypes

Watching some cable
Wondering if Good Times, The Jeffersons, or What’s Happening
Could be made today
Flipping the channel
Watching some more cable
Wondering if the Dukes, All in the Family, or Chico and the Man
Could be made today

The crazy thing
Is that I loved all those shows
Granted, each had their stereotypical portrayals,
But there was something about the characters
That was so engaging

“Dynamite, Wheezy, ‘Hey, Hey, Hey'”
C’mon, those were great shows
Car chases, Meathead, living in the back of van
C’mon, those were great shows too
And each promoted positive values in
Their own way
Whether it was being proud,
Getting ahead,
Strong friendships,
Confronting bigotry,
Or accepting other cultures
They all played a role
Even if the characters were
More than a little stereotypical

Not Much Makes Sense

Doing a little research
To better understand social issues
Related to AIDS

Not much makes sense

The rhetoric becoming gospel
The dogma becoming policy
The science becoming religion
The conspiracy becoming the vision

Not much makes sense

The egos get in the way
The politics get in the way
The return on investment gets in the way
The hype gets in the way

Now it makes sense

Big business


The quest to find a cure for HIV
Need not be hung up
In all this quasi sensibility
No special interests should reign supreme


When doctors need the credit
When politicians are inclined to put votes above evidence
When conglomerates bottom line public health
When dissidents muddy the waters unscientifically

Not much makes sense

Conceptually Similar


Two books of poetry
Summed thoughts
On war’s idiocy


An alumni mag
Hailing the growth
Of an educational venture masking as college


Shrapnel tells different stories
When exploded over the pages
Versus the undercarriage of a Humvee


The donations solicited should suffice
But it seems the tuition and fees are detonating
Any chance of a student’s debt free learning


A common thread of literal loss
One writing propaganda full of heroic tragedy
The other of missions wrought with man’s macabre humor


Recent graduating years stocked full of
Weddings and promotions
My year thin with retirements, obits, and solicitations for “legacies”


The world continues on…

Clearing Clutter

We set out today
To an old hangout
In what feels like the country


The four of us
Were set for some relaxing fun
In a hidden playground


We started our walk
The beautiful nature inspiring


I know the play pen
Was not for what I thought
But I’m suspect of what people can do


We walked back on track
And I just focused on
My wonderful walking partners


Playing Chess

When I was a kid
All I wanted to do
Was decimate my opponents pieces
I took whatever piece whenever
The unfortunate one could be taken
Too bad my dad
Knew strategy
So my aggressive play never worked
I’ve never beaten him
Now I’m a lot older
And only a little smarter
I still like running rough shot on the board
But now I can see a little more of what’s going to happen
So I never lose
Because I only play
My young sons
Who play like I used to
Recklessly, cluelessly
Some day they will beat me,
Some day I’ll beat my dad

Half that statement is correct.

Hardly With It Half

He wrote of where I ran
Under the pagoda
Looking down on a hollow city.
His words sounding as desparate
As the clacking rocks
Under my heavy handed feet.
I trudged
Up the stairs dripping sweat no
Dike could corral
For August swelter
Cares little for restraining nature.
His little poem
About Reading
Was exactly in time
With my caustic experience on Mt. Penn,
But his words and my soreness
Made for a good read.