Poets

Poets recorded

We poets,

the Watchers,

perched upon the edge

observing,

not judging,

listening,

not condemning,

delving the meaning,

reading the signs

traversing the Web of Life

without being caught in it.

Oh yes, at times

jumping in,

immersed in and

drenched with Life ---

so easy to be lost

in the maelstrom

and forget who we are.

Yet, we poets,

perched on the rim,

sometimes wading in,

but wary of the tides,

knowing when to return

to the safety of the ledge,

‘til wings will grow

to carry the senses

across the oceans of Life,

observing,

listening,

reporting,

reading the signs,

journeying the Web of Life

without being fooled by it

‘til the hour tolls

and I punch my card

and go home,

only to return

once again,

to observe

and watch

and pray.

Selah

agd 4.19.2020

Up A Tree

Sound recording:
https://soundcloud.com/allen-dec/up-a-tree

Up a Tree

He followed me

down the country lane,

much farther he came

than ever before.

My protector

my pal,

my walking buddy

meowing as he went

as if to say

“Wow, look at this!

Look at that!

Who knew?”

Then from the

fenced yard

the monster George showed

roaring aloud

arriving in a cloud

of dust.

Instincts flared

and George dared

the cat to run.

And terrified

Whitey fled up,

straight up,

and up and up

the old majestic pine.

But have no fear,

Whitey finally dared

to climb down

and then found

his way home.

agd 4.18.2020

agd 4.18.2020

For Nandu

https://soundcloud.com/allen-dec/for-nandu

For Ñandū

What would you do

if somehow you knew

someone from Kathmandu

had a dog named Ñandū?

What would you do?

Would you invite him to

share a brew

somewhere soon?

Or at night under the moon?

And would you buy a new

ball for Ñandū

and play anew

so he won’t pee on your shoe?

Oh that Ñandū  !

He goes out for a poo

without a clue

if the weather’s warm or cool.

Does  Ñandū bark falsetto

for being castrato

tho big and tawny

and clearly brawny?

So, what would you do

with a dog named  Ñandū ?

Let’s teach him to sing

with the harp or the flute!

agd 4.17.2020

The King

The King

 In the guarded pale castle

the would-be king plots and plans.

He whispers to his minions:

“Tell them some wild stories

so they’ll think they have juicy ‘news.’

You know what I mean.

Then I can rant and rail

of their evilness.

‘Fake News!’ ‘Fake News!’

You are all evil people!

You only want to hurt me!

Why don’t you like me?

I’m the most likeable person on earth!

Why don’t you believe me

like all the scarecrows?

Why don’t you love me?

I only want the best

for all American….. businessmen,

my cronies, my pals.

We do run the world,

you know.

We do.

You can’t have a life

without us.

We do run the world.

Why don’t you love me for that?

Why don’t you love me?”

The would-be king

will leave the pale castle…

but not without

leaving this country

scarred and reeling,

‘til we who love the Good

will work hand-in-hand

to right the wrongs,

to heal the sickness,

to console the grieving,

to rebuild the spirit

of the most amazing nation

on this planet, Earth.

So it is said.

So it will be.

agd 4.16.2020

VOICE RECORDING - THE KING Link might not work - copy the url below
https://soundcloud.com/allen-dec/the-king_4162020-agd

The Light

John was a harper

looking for copper

and Judi just wanted to read.

So he melted the wire

and fashioned a spire

of bright light so that she could see!

agd 4.15.2020

The Dork

There was a young man from Cork

Who was a lazy kind of dork.

He loved his malaise,

Flitting away his days

Watching reruns of Mindy and Mork!

agd 4.14.2020

Cover Me!

Squared off prints

in cotton and chintz

a colorful cover

to put over

my chilly knees.

Carefully planned

by a great fan

of crafting

and stitching

of cloth and thread.

A quilt

carefully built

from an inspiration

with a destination

to a friend’s comfort.

agd 4.13.2020

For Life

He is Risen!

Gray skies,

wintry air

not the Eastery scene

we would like ---

churches closed

(synagogues, mosques

and temples, too),

a time to lay aside 

the material coverings,

reach deeply

into our being

and meet with

the Source of All Being

and  listen,

and pay attention.

Though families are afar ---

we must still

have gratitude,

gratefulness

for the Life,

for the Life,

for Life.

agd 4.12.2020

Green Spring

The myriad greens

of Spring –

fresh, clean,

minty,

ocean foamy,

new ferny,

olivette,

cedarling,

tulip sage,

lowly sedum,

hardy grasses

and more,

and more,

and sooo much more!

agd 4.11.2020

Aging

Aging sucks,

For some…

no pains,

no banes.

For others…

a slow fading,

a sense dimmed,

a strength diminished,

a freedom lost.

Time becomes a swirl

of hours, days, weeks, months

carried along

til the corpus fails

ad I am freed

to return home,

and soar once again

into heaven’s gate.

agd 4.9.2020

Rains

Rain-washed morning

Storm-swept night

a calm breeze

greets the Great Star.

The above-water

floats by,

gray and white

and then --- Blue

Blue skies coming our way.

Starlight illuming my way.

What can I say?

It portends to be

a lovely Spring day.

agd 4.8.2020

Tick Tock

Tick Tick Tick

Tock Tock Tock

an invisible timer

on an invisible fob

invites each generation

to worship the

illusion of time.

There is no tick tick

tock in Nature.

Life is constantly, constantly,

constantly flowing,

arising,

growing,

doing,

dying,

arising again,

birthing,

becoming,

attracting,

repelling,

reproducing,

doing,

dying,

and birthing again,

constantly, constantly,

constantly flowing,

becoming,

an ecstatic, eternal Dance of Life

upon a river we like to call “Time”!

And all within

the Mind of God.    

(I don’t care what you call Her.)

agd 4.7.2020

TuAp7

TuAp7

Green grows the grass

greeting the great star

this mild April morn.

No breeze hinders

the morning chorus –

the chirping redhats

the screeching bluejackets

the whistling chickadees

the trilling warblers ---

and suddenly

a gobbling turkey

hidden in a thicket

greets me –

“Good morn!”

Then, rudely interrupting

roars an iron beast

spewing  toxins,

pushing, gouging the earth

within the cedar grove ---

the sounds of groaning nature ---

splintering wood,

crushing branches,

the scent of cedar blood

and upturned earth

fills the air.

One day it might be

a welcome fragrance,

this cedar and dewy earth –

but today it is

the stench of death and an

audible, odorous genocide

of countless biomes.

For what? I wonder.

agd 4.7.2020