Accidental Email Poetry

I received an email this morning from our accountant/interior designer, who is purchasing chairs for my office. After a few exchanges, the line breaks became random, resulting in this:



I just asked Sheri if your space could hold two
chairs, would she be good with purchasing two

and she said, "see what he prefers". Personally, I
think two would look better, but, let me know what

you think.



I'm hearing bongos and snapping fingers...man.

Learning to Fly

I had a dream
I was learning to fly
I could fly as high
as the sky would allow
But if no one was there
to direct me
I'd end up in a tree
in the highest bough

Feeling Like You

It's Not All Snark and Smug Scorn at Where's My Jetpack?

This was the scene at an Orange County Public Library on my way home this evening. Voters standing in line in the late afternoon Autumn sun, a kaleidoscope of American colors. I had to pull over and take a few pictures. (And add my two cents worth in verse. Click images for larger.)


From the forthcoming Telegraph Canyon

Feeling Like You

When in the course of human events
it becomes quite evident
that something’s happening
well, that's just fine
Water's well past the floodline

I won’t care and why should you
And besides, what could we do
The shine got dull
That's not a crime
The moment is here and now's the time

Yeah, there’s something in the air
It’s like fall all the time
Crisp, clear, brisk and bright
Sun dancing on the shore in a festival of lights

If we can stand the picked-up pace
Maybe we can find some grace
We know the way
We’ll be on time
and I'll trust you to read the signs

When in sight of things so clear
I know you can’t care to fear
Winds of change
won’t block the sunshine
It's theirs and ours - It's yours and mine

Yeah, there’s something in the air
It’s like autumn all the time
When the world’s 3D and layered deep
Clouds marching for the shoreline like they’re walking in their sleep

Eight Eight Eight

If you turned this day upside down
it would still be the same
And when you look at it sideways
it goes on without end
and what is a game
played between enemies
anyway
but a metaphor for war

The rain outside blows sideways
trash cans are turned upside down
There are things to do again today
that we do without end
And what is a game
played between friends
once again
but a metaphor for harmony

Please celebrate our triumph
Feel free to wince when we fall
and do try to mind your tongues
We love the gold, the spoils of war
and turning worlds upside down
and what is a war fought overseas
to me
just the game we play

Such Stuff as Dreams are Made On

Grayscale Babylon
A Dream in Black and White

The bodies of giant angels, rotting in the woods
We climbed upon their corpses while the ants crawled underfoot
Fallen from a skyward battle
On whose side we couldn’t tell
But their peaceful faces seemed to say that they’d never been to Hell


There’s a rush of refugees always slogging through my dreams
down lonely roads and darkened streets or fording swollen streams
The pictures come in shades of grey
and I know the scenes by heart
A spoiled people now afraid in a country in the dark

It's more of that sleep twilight stuff.
Picture stolen from.

Sleep Twilight Lyric

Ever get inspired in that moment between wakefulness and sleep? Me too. It's a mystical place. The first stanza of this came to me as I was drifting into a nap after a morning of glassy non-waves at the beach.


I could use a word from you
Something simple, just a clue
A whispered word or two

You know, I thought I made it clear
I can take direction

All those boats up on the shore
I guess I could build a few more
Not even sure what they’re for

But they’re more than they appear
It’s not just a collection

I’ve got a field of dried-up wells
Dug myself halfway to Hell
To the point where I can’t tell

I can’t see and I can’t hear
where to make the connection

Drift away to another land
Forget trying to understand
Nothing’s done and nothing’s planned

I can wait another year
For the next rejection

Did I make too much of nothing at all
Missed the cue and dropped the ball
Ran too fast when told to crawl

It’s your wheel, you can steer
I trust you’ll make the correction

There’s so much you won’t let me say
Saving it for another day
It’s a game I’ve learned to play

You won't let me doubt or fear
Won’t let me raise an objection