Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Esprit de Corps

I’ve spent some time on life’s roof tops,
A few times in the basements of danger…
Lifted high on the deeds of old friends
Been dragged down by the random stranger.

My circle of friends oft raise our fists,
Towards the sky to show life what for…
Alone we’ve achieved very little,
Together an esprit de corps.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Stockton Redeux

In Berkeley we played in alleys,
Ivy covered, with steps on steep hills;
Sliding down grass slopes in boxes
While ‘egg head’ fathers paid the bills.

On Oahu, we ran like natives,
Barefoot from store to shore;
"Hawaiians" from Samoa,
Taught us "Sailor speak" galore. 

In Carmel, we followed movie stars;
Riding waves on a white sand beach.
Embarrassing clarinet lessons,
Pushed me far from my parent's reach.

In Stockton, we lived with farmers,
My friends, both Okies and Mexican…
Oh that I could gather them all,
To reside in the delta again.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Clarence's View

This morning, pure Penn Cove splendor;
I noticed all of your shades pulled down…
You missed your beloved sunrise,
Your wife, with the kids, left town.

The eagles you named and cherished,
Frolicked and tangled in the air…
Seagulls and crows fought one more battle;
Life continued, though you weren’t there.

I walked the cliff with no audience,
No conversations along the way…
Earl ran thru the stop sign again,
Oblivious to the obits today.
Dedicated to Clarence Ness,  d.  Jan 24, 2013

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Art 101

Art 101 drew a human face,
Shading the nose just right…
Painting a full moon in perspective;
Inventing the colors of midnight

Art 102 was drawing a flower,
More beautiful than anything real…
Every painting in an art museum,
A life history lived to feel.

A PHD in art is my window;
The world, so majestic to me…
No signatures on the canvas
An ant is larger than me.

A master paints a sunset,
Confidently boards a departing plane,
Knowing he will return someday,
To paint that sky again.

A connoisseur loves the artist,
It is beauty that he hunts…
Knowing paintings are the legacy,
We see the artist’s world but once.